Сhеr Sаys Shе Will Lеаvе Аmеriса… Whаt Dо Yоu Sаy То Неr?

The “Believe” singer also addressed her anxieties about what the future for trans people will look likе in an interview with ‘The Guardian’Cher might not be “strong enough” to survive another Trump presidency.

In an interview with The Guardian released Wednesday, the “Believe” singer opened up about how “horrified” she’d feel if former President Donald Trump was once again re-elected.

“I almost got an ulcer the last time,” she told the outlet. “If he gets in, who knows? This time I will leave [the country].”The actress/musician is particularly concerned with what the future for trans people looks likе. It’s something likе 500 bills they’re trying to pass,” she told the publication. “I was with two trans girls the other night – and of course my own child [Chaz is trans]. I was saying ‘We’ve got to stand together.’ I don’t know what their eventual plan is for trans people.

I don’t put anything past them.”

Cher has been a longtime critic of the 45th president calling him a “f—ing traitor” on X (formerly known as Twitter) in 2016 and saying in a 2018 interview with The Washington Post that he had done “so much damage” to America.

The pop legend, whose birth father was Armenian, also addressed the tensions between Armenians and Azerbaijan in her conversation with The Guardian, which she has been tweeting about lately as well. She began to identify strongly with her heritage once she took a trip years ago when she visited its capital, Yerevan.

“When I got there, I thought, ‘Wow, everybody looks likе me! How could I not have strong feelings about this?’” she told the publication. The album is a 13-track project, which features collaborations with pals including Stevie Wonder and Cyndi Lauper, covers of classics likе Chuck Berry’s “Run Rudolph Run” and original tracks such as the dance-pop single “DJ Play a Christmas Song.”

I Allowed a Homeless Woman to Stay in My Garage—One Day I Walked in Unannounced and Was Shocked by What I Saw

I tapped the steering wheel, trying to shake the weight on my chest, when I spotted a disheveled woman digging through a trash can. I slowed down, drawn in by her grim determination.

She looked fragile yet fierce, fighting for survival. Without thinking, I pulled over, rolled down my window, and asked, “Do you need help?”

Her response was sharp but tired: “You offering?”

“I just saw you there,” I admitted, stepping out. “It didn’t seem right.”

“What’s not right is life,” she scoffed, crossing her arms. “You don’t strike me as someone who knows much about that.”

“Maybe not,” I replied, then asked if she had a place to stay.

“No,” she said, and I felt compelled to offer my garage as a temporary home. To my surprise, she accepted, albeit reluctantly.

Over the next few days, we shared meals and conversations. Lexi’s sharp wit broke through my loneliness, but I could sense her hidden pain.

One afternoon, I barged into the garage and froze. There, sprawled across the floor, were grotesque paintings of me—chains, blood, a casket. Nausea hit me.

That night, I confronted her. “What are those paintings?”

Her face went pale. “I didn’t mean for you to see them. I was just… angry.”

“So you painted me as a monster?” I demanded.

She nodded, shame in her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

I struggled to forgive her. “I think it’s time for you to go.”

The next morning, I helped her pack and drove her to a shelter, giving her some money. Weeks passed, and I felt the loss of our connection.

Then, a package arrived—another painting. This one was serene, capturing a peace I hadn’t known. Inside was a note with Lexi’s name and number.

My heart raced as I called her. “I got your painting… it’s beautiful.”

“Thank you. I didn’t know if you’d like it,” she replied.

“You didn’t owe me anything,” I said, reflecting on my own unfairness.

“I’m sorry for what I painted,” she admitted. “You were just… there.”

“I forgave you the moment I saw that painting. Maybe we could start over.”

“I’d like that,” she said, a smile evident in her voice.

We made plans to meet again, and I felt a flicker of hope for what could be.

Related Posts

Be the first to comment

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.


*