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.