But truly. It isn’t sardonic I am being, or too clever by half, as sometimes some folks protest this space is. One dares, one pushes but one dares and one pushes that much and not more. These are not times to dare or to push. Consequences follow, not good consequences. Sometimes unmentionable consequences.

Sometimes consequences for the unmentionables even. Who knows? We never know the full story. And those that know the full story seldom tell it. That too is a thing booby-trapped with the possibility of consequences. Do not complain. This is nothing that is new. It is probably not fair to suggest that we are the consequences of consequences that predate us. Like sun and cloud and rain and crop. Or sun and torrent and flood and no crop. That sort of thing, you know what I mean. I mean, you get the drift, don’t you?

Not that I wish it upon you, this drift. It’s nothing to wish upon anyone, not even your darnedest foe. What would be the point of giving your foe an opportunity to rain feral curses on you, hain? A foe is there to be handled, not to be given a handle. Absorb the curse, never pass it on. It could come to fall on you, who knows? I am never sure, or seldom sure, so I keep popping the question now and again. Who knows? Who’s to tell? Wherefrom? Where to? What about? I have more questions than I have answers and I have no envy towards those who may have more answers because if you do have more answers, what do you do after? I mean, you got the answers, it’s over, nothing more to do, goodbye time, nai?

Anyhow, where were we? Chance would be a fine thing if we knew. I mean do most of us really have a sense of where we are? Why would we need people telling us, then? Why would we folks go pleading we are lost and begging to be shown the way. Which, at the present moment, I cannot see. Can you?

I can feel one thing and see the opposite of it. Which is why I am saying I may not be seeing right, there are things in the way. Or some such. I can feel this burning, the kind of burning there is no getting away from, I mean where do you go? It’s a bit like the match stick you see somewhere around here. There is no way to hold it and not catch the burn. There is no getting away. The more you run away from the burn, the closer you get to it. But it’s not the burn that’s in the way. I see water, not fire. There’s so much fire, and so much shimmer it has caused that it is shimmering like water in the distance. Bathe in it, this thing.

Recall how badly you this crave

When the degrees get a shave

You curl and shiver and shrink

And there isn’t a drop of sweat to drink