Taking the Blame for the Mud

Mud March

 

I will refrain from saying I am sorry that the journey

began with so much mud. It is time that I stopped accepting

or assuming blame for acts of nature, though my nature is to

open with an assumption of being the guilty party.

 

Help is not on the way, but a few false comforts will be joining

us shortly.  It is hard to discern if they are failing to provide true

comfort or on some more acutely disturbing level are pulling us

deeper into the mud.  We are all just visitors.  Don’t blow the visit.

 

What if you woke up in the morning to discover it was not a

dream at all but that all of this really is happening.  Rosemary

in the basement with all of those old people coming to cheer

and taunt him on.  What if we woke up to discover we are the

old people, the unrecognizable weathered faces in the

mirror.  When did that happen?

 

Perhaps I should apologize in advance for the next 20

years of my life.  How far can an apology extend to provide immunity?

We need someone to blame for the mud.  Everyone  is angry

about it and would welcome a guilty party.

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