prelude to a great and epic battle

What does the hoop mean to us? What is the riddle of the hoop? What is the riddle of the object? What is the power of the thing? How many men put it here? A small number? A multitude? A champion? A great champion? A bearded champion?

questions questions, look into me with large wet eyes, asking, you know, don't you know? Sweetie?

My bed is smeared with chocolate, and I'm surrounded by druids chanting vague nonsense. I don't even like chocolate. I don't even like druids! I don't like my bed, and I don't like thinking too hard about the origins of nonspecific items.

Similarly, I detest the blending of years blinding me, causing me to say foolish things. I say such foolish things.

I bought pants that are just way too big, and I've been wearing them every day.

Tomorrow I will head right straight through the neck of the forest, with a cargo of fresh linens and clear ambitions. My home is filling up with flies, large wet ones with lots of potential. It's time to go.