Chronicles of the Indescribable (II)

Many years ago, a wise woman confided me that when it came to fill the so-called ‘backpack’ of struggles, constraints, and hapless events we are bound to carry from cradle to grave it was entirely down to us to decide on its weight. “Why?” I asked. “Because we are absolutely confident we can carry it”, she replied with a warm smile.
Still I cannot fathom how on Midgard could my preborn me be that overconfident in my future capabilities.

As Ernest Hemingway once stated, it is good to “write hard and clear about what hurts”. For even though it might be utterly useless, it also has proven to be hauntingly comforting.

The image above is taken from George Miller’s masterpiece Mad Max Fury Road. For those familiar with the film no more words are necessary, and for those who are not I firmly believe that the picture is eloquent enough by itself.

Dear TheLadyFosca,

In response to your annoyingly insistent enquiries regarding the amount of hamingja we plan to allocate for your long awaited second weekend of October, please find attached our final determination below.

  1. You get first row at that Wardruna concert you have been so yearning to attend for the last 5 months, countdown and all. Yes, just like each one of those lucky dudes on YouTube you helplessly envy when watching random HD videos, usually loop mode.
  2. You make it to the subsequent meet & greet. No, there is no way you know in advance but yes, there will be one. Thus you would be able to both overflow your Instagram account with gleeful tags like #luckiestladyever and such, and rejoice over the moment whenever everything else in your life seems about to come apart at the seams. Besides, nice place to recoil deep(er) within yourself now and then from then on and relive the experience, huh?
  3. You make it to the airport on time after being procrastinating all Sunday long because of your fondness for cloying beverages in trendy coffee shops, fine museums—do you really need to take a photo of every Scandinavian pattern inside the Orsay?, and your recalcitrant gluttony, not to mention the aftermath of the glorious previous night—again yes, there will be an aftermath, and brace yourself. So you manage to get on board and avoid the fascinating and highly educational experiences of sleeping in a French low cost airport and having to invest a painful amount of money on…well, getting back home.

Rein in your joy, gleeful lady, for your own good. Only two of the above are eligible. Therefore directions are clear—chose two, and chose wisely.

Yours sincerely,

Urd, Verdandi, and Skuld

P. S: Before choosing, you might take into consideration that you are utterly poor and we might have great plans for you throughout this winter, and that said plans may not include any further increase of your current funds whatsoever.

P. S. 2: Chose wisely.
Said wisely.
Meant wisely.
There. We choose for you.

Hence the doom of my wretched life.


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