The thought of reaching up through the blue sky is half the journey. Grasping at every corner in the factory of ideas, removing the dust and webs to uncover the simple thought. The lone thought, the first rung of the ladder. No place for a man who doesn’t carry boldness in his legs to stave off the fear of new heights. The previous travelers leave remnants of lost courage along the way. Strewn in stretches throughout the climb like the shells of insects below the spider’s table. Keep your eyes forward, breathe steady and ascend. The pattern will change from familiar to new. The story writes itself the higher you climb.