So sometimes when we go about our daily lives we find interesting things that make us put down whatever we're doing at the moment, maybe it's a good book, or a trip with others, something that stirs the heart and compels abandonment of all that is life and yet burdensome, and seek out that fresh new thing, or perhaps it's an old flame, perhaps it's being in love with the mountains, surrendering your very soul to the mountain, to let you and mountain become one, forever and ever, and then when it ends there's this addiction, compulsion to find again, to get the same adrenaline rush and you know you've been hooked, to reach a goal, or goals, your very own, and it doesn't matter what other people say, perhaps we're all living this dream, seeing the same world yet all of us through different lenses of our own, overcoming any obstacle, like a blizzard, or rain beating down, or slogging through a wall that's so dense and suffocating and makes you crawl and get down to your knees but whatever it is still carry on and move forward, and you know it isn't about what others say, be they good or bad, because those are all extraneous and the only thing that matters is you and it, and to close the distance and become ever closer, closer and yet always far, beating you down and posing questions of why, but then all is silenced with continually trying and climbing and trying and maybe, just maybe, this is what they call passion, this word, love, that refuses to be bound by definition and objectified and exists unique and known only by those who are infatuated.