Pre-Election Essay: My Life in Trump’s America



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Writing about the Trump presidency as a correspondent? It often feels like a fever dream. A personal balance.

Too much news: US President Donald Trump speaks to reporters on the South Lawn of the White House.

Too Much News: US President Donald Trump speaks to reporters on the South Lawn of the White House.

Photo: Chip Somodevilla (Getty Images)

What’s left of time with Donald Trump?

The answer is a sigh, a long, deep sigh. I have been reporting on the United States as a correspondent for almost three years, but as far as my work is concerned, these three years are long gone. Russia business, children in cages, lockdown, trade war, fake news, soldiers against protesters, Supreme Court, impeachment, tweets, tweets, tweets, every day, every hour, always. Everything fades, everything is shreds and tones and fragments, like a night full of feverish dreams.

I saw Trump in the White House and on the lawn beyond, shouting phrases to reporters in the noise of the helicopter rotors. I saw him appear in election campaigns and i saw her appearances on tv. But I met Trump much more often elsewhere: in the pushmessages on the phone, in hysterical debates on Twitter, auf the same hysterical tv stationnorth, in the bookstore’s ever-new tell-tale books, Trump is even on stickers at traffic lights.

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