Donald Trump is a Clone (the real Donald is gone)

In a meeting Donald Trump was forced to go in, they say he was in the room for two hours and exitted the room looking like a ghost. This is because it was a clone that exitted the room…Since the clone lived a life of isolation with minimal human contact or entertainment, the clone looked like a ghost. I am 90% sure the new president is a clone. The real Donald Trump may long be dead.

Have you noticed that “Donald Trump” no longer makes jokes or has a funny personality, and has a new style of clothes and different posture? This is because it is not Donald Trump anymore.

The purpose of my life may be to inform you all of this.

Now you all may say, cloning is not scientifically possible. You may say cloning has been banned. Of course it has been banned to the general public, so that the secret elites can clone politicians and replace them. It’s been 20 years since they cloned a sheep…you really think they can’t clone a man? It’s simple science.

I don’t know about Trump being a clone…

BUT!!!

In one of my hells, the gatekeeper (controller) was a man named “mr. Black”. I assumed it was death.

Before I got spit back into this world, he shapeshifted into Donald trump with Donald Trumps voice perfect in a secret meeting I had with him and said “you will take medication”

My theory is that Donald Trump is death.

I have bigger issues than this though.

Tell me more about this incident. How long did this incident last, and did you wake up to find yourself at a hospital of sorts?

There was a hospital involved.

It was solely a realm to torture me with music, rap, rape and football… It’s hard to explain in words.

The only other thing on TV was clips of Hillary as Secretary of State, even though John Kerry was…

Death leaned over to me and stated “you don’t know what were trying to do here”

Wow… I could go on for days about this particular hell.

Basically, they opened my spirit up and tormented every part of it, and death wrote my next life on a peice of paper that he handed me…

He seemed annoyed by it though…

I think he liked me.

There were demons and angels there.

Hmm. So it was at a mental hospital.

Not quite. Some of the sequences involved one. The outside of the hospital was controlled by death as well.

I was outside of space and time here; time dilated portal.

They kept talking about Russia too…

Basically, I was psychically connected to the controllers in an alternate reality and got to hear their plans…

And then I spat back out into this world.

Well, what did your therapist say about the matter?

I have physical proof…

A friend of mine came to the hospital (I was locked up because I hadn’t eaten in a couple weeks - totally lost my belly). She came in and I joked about how we used to have big bellies so we could belly busk on the street for money… She said she missed my belly and touched it and left. As I walked down the hall, within about 15-20 seconds my belly grew back, she visited the next day and couldn’t believe I had gained about 40 pounds in one day!

I have confirmation from several people of what would be called a miracle.

I had no therapist.

Trixie, I’m telling you things that are the very, very tip of a huge iceberg…

It almost means nothing, and yet you are trying to pigeon hole and define it from scraps.

This entire world was recreated!!

Actually it’s simpler, he knew the Trump the promoteri is not the Trump of the actual sale, the art of the deal is only relevant until the ink dries, after which, its all like where do I really know you from.

Ink drying is like sipping on 100 proof.

Its more than just salesmanship for a deal and an awkward feeling after, I think he is an actual clone.

Ecmandu, what is a belly busk?

And yet I think he may have won Really, but he was probably more concerned with the art of the deal then the deal itself.yoir right,he may have won his wager already but I wouldn’t bet on ot, it’s almost like acceptance in the most obvious way, after the orgasmic barrage of words fades, and there remains the objectless idiocy of all simulacrum, yet, at the last analysis there remains a trace of rationale: the reticence to acquiesce what remains of the original guilt.

Big Deal!

Busking is a slang term for street performers for money… We’d play our bellies like drums …