My family embarked on a journey through the heart of the New
Republic of Florida, its gleaming capital rising before us like a monument to a
new era. A city transformed, where the name of Donald Trump loomed large, and a
palpable sense of change crackled in the air. It was a landscape shaped by the
hands of ironworking cowboys, defying gravity as they constructed towering
behemoths that scraped the very heavens.
As our car traversed the immaculate streets, we gazed upon
the colossal skyscrapers, still in their embryonic stages, reaching skyward
like giants awakening from a deep slumber. The symphony of construction echoed
through the air, a testament to the indomitable spirit of progress and the
promise of a brighter future.
In the midst of this architectural metamorphosis, a newfound
hope settled within our weary souls. We embraced the dawning of an era that
held the promise of change, of possibilities yet untapped. A collective anticipation
swelled within us, like a chorus of whispered dreams, as we eagerly anticipated
the marvels that awaited us on this journey into the unknown.
Amidst the towering structures, we glimpsed a glimpse of the
future, a tantalizing taste of the yet-to-be. And with every passing moment,
our anticipation grew, fueled by the belief that within this city of dreams,
anything was possible.
Only time would tell. For now, we embraced the intoxicating
allure of progress, embracing the vision of a city that dared to dream big. And
as our car continued its journey through this evolving landscape, we carried
within us a mix of excitement and trepidation, our hearts filled with the
anticipation of the things to come, be they blessings or curses in disguise.
I wake up
