Salty caramel in my mouth, washed down with cider, while blue ducks weather the storm. I stand beneath the pouring rain and I am free. A world that doesn’t need me but that’s open to me still. Sitting underneath the walnut tree, watching beautiful women with flower reefs in their hair dancing on the most opulently green grass. Apples fall from the trees surrounding me, a walnut hits my head. Nutcracker, the other way around. In the village, the people are cooking and decorating the table, there will be a big feast tonight, the bonfire is ready. The starry night sky shall function as both a protective blanket over us all as well as a reminder of both our great aspirations and our relative insignificance. Drink and dance and laughter and lust. It is all a must. The harp and the bag pipe, accompanied by a roaring voice; to live to the fullest is a wonderful choice. The restraints of roman civilization, they fall off my shoulders like a loosely fitting cloak. Celtic freedom for all the folk!

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