My Birthday? I'm bearing up quite well, thank you: Bingo Bolger Baggins

[bingo_bolger_baggins]

. . . but I've been having a little trouble sleeping of late. I have been having so much more vivid ringkoalabearing dreams the past few days, though my experiences have been of the koalafied variety, I suppose. I feel like everything I see is so clear--as though through my waking eyes--I can see it all now . . .

I remember standing up in Rivendell, in the Council:

I will take it! I will take the Ring to Mordor!


. . . though I do not know the way.

Then I'm in Lothlorien and I'm standing before Galadriel:

Will you look into the Mirror? What will I see?

Then she's giving us gifts:

I give to you, Bingo Baggins, the light of Earendil, our most beloved star.

Then she kissed my head:

And, well, we got a little carried away, I suppose. I know, I know, not in the film or the book, but this is my draftstory, not Frodo's, you remember.

And then we're climbing Mount Doom--oh dear Sam:

I can't carry the ring for you, but I can carry you! Oh could he now, let me tell you!

And then the end. The ring is gone. And I can't hold on, but for Sam:

Don't let go! REACH! And I did.

So those were my dreams last night--I can hardly bear thinking about it. It's making me feel sort of fuzzy. I suppose it wasn't wise to try those mushrooms Sancho sent for my birthday before I went to bed, knowing Sancho. So for your mathoms today, I am not giving you any of those mushrooms--you will thank me for it--trust me.