Image by Tamsin Slater via Flickr
The longer I’m in the mud, the more the mud covers me.
The more the mud covers me, the more I start to feel like the mud is a part of me.
And then I start to believe the mud is where I am supposed to be.
The longer I am covered in mud, the more distant the memories of life without the mud.
The longer I stay, the deeper I sink.
Now the mud and I are one.
Perhaps I can be happy covered in mud...
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