🪣💧🐖
Some people genuinely enjoy bathing in mud. They’ll tell you it’s soothing, natural, grounding. And hey – if that’s their preference, who am I to intervene?
But let’s draw the line clearly: mud is still mud, no matter how passionately someone insists it’s a spa treatment.
That’s exactly what’s happening at Blenvale.
🐖 Some residents are perfectly fine rolling in whatever filth the board dishes out.
Lies? Shrug.
Breaches of the Act? Ah well.
Financial concealment? “Don’t worry about it.”
A building run like a half-collapsed barnyard? “Everything is fine!”
They’ll wallow in it, splash in it, defend it, even smear it on others – and call it leadership.
💧 But I prefer clean water.
Clarity.
Facts.
Law.
Transparency.
Accountability.
Clean water doesn’t hide anything. It doesn’t smell. It doesn’t stain. And it sure as hell doesn’t leave you wondering what disease you just picked up from stepping into it.
🐖 Mud-lovers will always try to convince you their bath is normal.
They’ll even mock the person who insists on washing the dirt off.
They’ll insist that sludge is “just how things are here.”
They’ll argue that wanting cleanliness – financial transparency, lawful governance, basic competence – is somehow unreasonable.
Mud-logic:
“If we all sit in the mud together, maybe nobody will notice the stench.”
💧 But some of us still believe in clean water, and we’re not backing down.
We refuse to accept mismanagement as “tradition.”
We refuse to normalize incompetence.
We refuse to pretend that bathing in mud is the same as living with dignity.
If others want to marinate in decay, that’s their right.
But don’t demand that the rest of us pretend it’s refreshing.
