25 ml valerian away from certain self-destruction.
how long or when. wherefore. whereto.
as it is said: Ne mæg werig mod wyrde wiðstondan, ne se hreo hyge helpe gefremman.
[The weary cannot stand against doom, nor can the troubled procure help (think of being helped)]
whtever the wyrd is. its just this all-exhaustive tiredness, endless palaver to no benefit, impossible communication or lack thereof, duty sine rights and al that that constitutes one’s existence in a post-something world.
or maybe it is something specifically latvian, i wonder?