I found a hill once and ascended it to find a fountain of ecstacy. The trip was exhilerating, I met some peeps with the same intrigue and fascinations I was all about. "My body tells me noooo, but I won't quit, cause I won't knooooow..." The shit hit the fan on the down and when the hill concaved and deteriorated completely a Mount Circle and 2 O'Clock Arrow, tried to show me a new horizon. Skeptical as I've always been, I shrugged it off, not in disbelief but in quality concern of the peak's stability. It's slope was most slipery but my gloves seemed to have the mandable friction needed to keep up and I gave in. I'm in a limbo stage now, where peaks below me rumble and shift, and like low elevated clouds, peaks protrude down from above. They're clinching like carnivors, and it's getting harder to determine which peaks will revert back to the path I planned around. Change is my necessity and while some rocks crumble and sift through my imperfect grip my feet hold strong beneath me. The rock solid stability keeps me levitating toward the essence of others, to their liking or dismay. 50/50 is worse than 10/90 in any situation, specifically making predictability normal and unpredictability negative. If I knew everything about Mount Circle and 2 O'Clock Arrow there would be no incline, no personal intrigue, no misinterpretations, nothing to find pleasurable about the experience of emotions and motivations for reaching the Mount's summit and whatever truths relevant, waiting to be collaboratively shown to both of us. So through all the gorges and endless pits and cranies and the avalanches waiting to be shook, the obstacle not physical but mental, is the pathway I tread through for my ultimate sacrifice of self. Curiosity gave the cat character, choice gave it direction, and chance gave it hope.
Bow -Chicka -Wow- Wow, what you gonna say?..
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