The inner torment of Chris Christie, based on recent photographs

Jason O. Gilbert
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Hello. I am New Jersey Governor Chris Christie. Once, my approval ratings were sky-high, and I was viewed as a legitimate Republican presidential contender with huge crossover appeal.

Today, this is me. 

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I stand behind this Loud Man as he mocks my every accomplishment and dream.

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I must wave to his admirers, who abhor my presence.

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Sometimes I try to hide behind him, so that the cameras will not capture my pain.

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But always they are there, documenting my torment.

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I hear the Loud Man's words, and horror stirs inside me. 

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He shouts about his genitals, and I contort every muscle in my face into an approximation of a smile. 

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When no one is focused on me, I fantasize about escaping to the mountains.

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But sooner or later it hits me that my fantasizing is just that; it is fantasy.

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Because of my sins, I have been cursed to endure this endless humiliation.

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Let my obvious agony serve as a warning to all politicians.

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This could be you.

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This IS me.

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My name is Chris Christie. And once, there was joy in my life.

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I cannot say this out loud, but: Please do not vote for the Loud Man this November.

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Free me from his iron grip.

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Please. And thank you.

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