Whisper gently.
Add extra vowels.
Look into the distance like you’ve lived for 3,000 years.
Say something that sounds important.
No one will question you.
Head east past fields that feel too safe to leave. Cross the Brandywine and try not to look back.
Cut through the Old Forest if you enjoy poor decisions. Survive the Barrow-downs. Meet a suspicious ranger in Bree. Trust him anyway.
Travel south through wild lands, over hills that never seem to end, and into places where hope feels thin. Pass the Argonath. Resist dramatic speeches.
Continue east into Mordor. Ignore the part where the sky turns red and everything smells like regret.
Climb Mount Doom.
Throw the ring in.
Do not put it on.
Go home.
Choose the one you want.
Then sample three others “just in case.”
Then order the original choice.
Then ask for a second scoop.
This is called emotional decision-making.

1. Pick it up.
2. Admire it.
3. Decide it’s special.
4. Put it in your pocket.
5. Forget it in the washing machine.
Technically: 12–14 hours including a ferry.
Emotionally: 3 ice cream stops, 2 deep life talks, one “we should move back here,” and a promise to come back next May.
A page is locked, the key unseen,
Hidden where soft melodies lean.
Spotify David Gray and let it play,
‘Babylon’ will show the way.
Watch the loop and you will learn
Which Terrace holds the word to earn.

Yet Another Year in a Lifetime of Adventure