Massive Earthquake Strikes Japan—Days After Tsunami Warning
Source: Newsweek
https://share.newsbreak.com/g9ko2niz

https://x.com/kuhnsteven90717/status/1998769695365697989?s=52

They say what’s happening in Venezuela is about drugs.

That’s only half the story.

Drugs are the cover.
Money is the target.

Private banks.
Family offices.
Offshore cash.

Trillions in drug money keeping a globalist system alive.

Trump isn’t hitting governments.

He’s cutting funding arteries.

And the globalists are losing their minds.

👉 patreon.com/steveneugeneku…

10 December 2025

#FollowTheMoney #FinancialWar #Globalists #Truth @joerogan @patrickbetdavid @Bannons_WarRoom @BowesChay @the_irascible

🔥BREAKING: Governor Ron DeSantis just proposed a $117 billion Florida budget for 2026-2027 with a 2ND AMENDMENT sales tax holiday

The $117B is LESS than New York City's annual budget, despite Florida having nearly 15 million more people.

And it's more than $100B less than New York STATE'S budget - despite Florida having more residents.

"We're really showing HOW IT CAN BE DONE."

"We have the lowest number of state government workers per capita, and are the lowest or second lowest in state spending per capita of all 50 states."
🇺🇸Join👉 @SGTnewsNetwork
📎 X  (Twitter)▪️Truth Social

❗️Kiev openly admits ANOTHER TERROR ATTACK on civilian tanker in Black Sea neutral waters

SBU source claims 'navy drones hit 'Dashan' vessel, part of Russia’s 'shadow fleet''

Ukrainian media parading video evidence of the terror attack itself
@MTodayNews

Fostering The Future – Melania Trump
https://www.melaniatrump.com/pages/fostering-the-future

The night my husband almost froze to death outside, my phone sat on the nightstand acting as if everything was perfectly normal, quietly flashing cheerful ads about home renovations.
The clock said 2:41 a.m. when I reached out in the dark and touched nothing but a stretch of cold, empty blankets.

I didn’t scream.
I didn’t shout his name.
I just… stopped breathing for a few seconds.

Then something else registered.

The dog bed in the corner of our room was empty.

“Daniel?” I called softly, even though a voice inside me already knew I wouldn’t hear a reply.

My husband is seventy-eight now. There was a time he could finish a ten-hour shift at the paper mill, come home covered in dust, and still make it to every baseball game our boy played. But these days, some mornings he wakes up confused about which doorway leads to the kitchen.

Dementia didn’t arrive like a storm—it crept in. First, a wrong date here and there. Then he started mixing up names. Then came moments that might’ve been funny if they didn’t hurt so much. Just last month, he tried spreading butter on his coffee.

We live right on the edge of a small Wisconsin town. Winters here aren’t simply cold—they can be deadly. That night the temperature hovered around three degrees.

When I walked down the hallway, I saw the front door cracked open, leaking a thin ribbon of sharp, icy air into the house.

My stomach dropped.

Daniel’s boots were still neatly by the door. His heavy coat still hung from its hook. But his slippers were missing… and so was the faded blue robe he always wore before bed.

And the dog bed remained empty.

“Scout?” I whispered, my voice trembling.

Scout is our old yellow Lab—sixteen now, with gray around his muzzle and joints that creak when he moves. His eyes have gone cloudy with age, and he walks slowly, each step deliberate. He and Daniel have always had a quiet understanding between them.

Every day, Scout curls up beside Daniel’s leg. When Daniel rises, Scout rises. When Daniel sits, Scout lowers himself to the floor beside him. He stays near him as if he somehow knows Daniel needs someone keeping watch.

That night, the leash still hung by the door. Which meant Scout hadn’t waited to be taken out. He had simply followed the man he’d loved all his life.

I grabbed my keys—no shoes, no jacket, nothing but cold fear—and bolted to the van. As I reversed out of the driveway, the headlights swept across the yard and revealed two sets of tracks pressed into the thin snow.

Slow, uneven footsteps.

And next to them, dog prints—one dragging.

I followed the tracks in the van, easing along the shoulder of the quiet two-lane road. Ice glistened under the streetlights. Cars fly down that road during the day, but at night it feels like an empty, dangerous stretch. Just beyond the shoulder is a deep ditch that fills with water in spring and freezes rock solid in winter.

While I drove, memories played in my head like an old film reel:
The first time I saw Daniel leaning against a jukebox.
Our wedding day beneath a cheap string of lights.
The porch he built board by board.
His gentle way with neighbors who needed a hand.
And then the doctor quietly saying, “Lila, these are signs of Alzheimer’s.”
And the night Daniel looked across the dinner table and asked me, “Have we met before?”

People often say, “You’re so strong.”

But the truth is, I’m exhausted. I’m heartbroken. And I love someone whose mind is slowly drifting away from me.

Half a mile from home, my headlights caught something in the ditch.

At first it looked like a heap of clothing.

Then I saw the familiar blue robe.

“Daniel!” I slammed the brakes and slid down the icy bank, my knees hitting frozen ground.

He was curled on his side, slippers half fallen off, his face drained of color, lips blue.

And stretched across him—like a living blanket—was Scout.

Continued 👇

"QUANTUM PHYSICS 'Crash Course' with Godly Truther Rob Cunningham connects the Puzzle Pieces with GOD's 'Frequency' Spoken Word and His Creative Resonance"
👇
https://x.com/KuwlShow/status/1997713665269858438?t=2XkXmo4EFk36to9D_Vc3mw&s=19