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A mountain of books surrounds me. I climb in so as to climb out of myself. I ascend the many precipices of my unknown potential. I boulder now, ascending if you will, without the safety of my ropes of fear; those very same ropes that have always ended up hanging me. I move along scaling my dreams sometimes leveraging my greatest thrusts only by a small sliver of hope. I propel with the body of my entire being knowing that at some point, some moment, I will look out to see ever more mountains to read.