Okay, here we go… focus… speed. I am speed—

Wait, wrong movie. I need something motivating for this almost impossible climb. What was it again where some very optimistic people climbed a snowy mountain and most of them froze to death?

My fingers… I can’t feel my fingers anymore. The cold, it's—

“Ah, fuck it”

Time to concentrate on the obstacle course again. I’m limiting my idiocy to a few thoughts per day now, and what can I say? I’m making progress. Miniscule progress that sometimes gets derailed from the objective, I might add. But still, it's progress.

I took a few calming breaths and then felt for the rocks above me, not daring to look down and destroy my budding accomplishment. I’ve already made it half way to the top and I definitely don’t want to stop while the glass is half full. See? I’m more optimistic now, too. If not, then the downer, me, from a few days ago would have said ‘glass half empty'. The correct mindset for achieving greatness and success, as they might say.

My right hand stretched forward and then my left foot found its footing. After finding success, I mirrored what I did using the opposite limbs in a mechanical motion that I hoped wouldn’t malfunction because it’s made in China. Me? Chinese? Some part of me, like, one-sixteenth or something. I’m not sure of the details, but I’m pretty certain my grandfather had slit-like eyes, was a swindler back in the day with an iron-like grip on money and had dreadful family values that didn’t waver in front of criticism. So, I assume that I have it in me to make low quality products that would last for a few days. Or maybe he’s Japanese, to which I say is a Grand Slam for me. Quality rules them all with glorious nippon steel. Banzai!

On the way, spider webs littered what little vision I had left besides rocks and soil. The little, cute critter made things harder because I couldn’t see much anymore and that’s why I needed to feel the places underneath the web before I could dedicate my hands or feet to move up. I think he thought easy mode was for pussies and decided that he needed to increase the difficulty by a notch.

“Picasso, can you, I don’t know, settle down for a moment?” it seemed as though he wanted to play. Showering me with affection, aka his webs, and crawling all over my body with much gusto. Laughable as it may seem, it’s somewhat distracting when you want something to get done. Not ‘want’, but ‘need' to get done.

He didn’t listen and continued to scamper like a maniac on drugs. But from experience, I know that the euphoria doesn’t last long and soon after, the consequences and guilt would kick in. Not that I did any drugs besides the prescriptions my doctor gave me, but those things in the void of darkness are close enough. And if it doesn’t end, well, happy days. Happy days, indeed. See you in the afterlife, because that just means you’ve overdosed.

He grew bored after a while and went off to wherever direction he pleased, unlike me who’s only possible way out is up. Correction, there’s also the river right below me. Don’t think about it, just ignore the image and move on. Yes. Move on. Just keep swimming, just keep swimming, just keep swimming, swimming, swimming. Wrong reference again, but who cares? It’s not like there’s a catchy phrase from some kiddie movie about climbing. The closest thing I got with accordance to climbing is the ‘Eye of the tiger’. And what comes to mind when that song plays in my head is an American celebrating like an idiot atop a flight of stairs as if he just won the Olympics. Not much to work with, see? In the first place, I didn't even like the original and its sequels. Just a bunch of scripted fights that made you think of how bad they portrayed boxing back then was because if you looked attentively, most if not all of the punches that they threw out didn't even land on the opponent. Don't even get me started on those over exagerrated movements from getting hit.

Stop dawdling and lift yourself up! Push those legs, pull with your arms! Let’s go!

This is so tiring. My limbs are getting heavy. Why am I still doing this? Just to suffer? No. It’s to sate my curiosity. And nothing’s a more noble of cause than finding answers to the nagging questions of man. Pineapple or no pineapple on my pizza? Besides, I’m one pull/step away from the finish line, so there’s no point in stopping where I’m at.

I yelled at my triumphant grip of dirt and grass. My hands trembled in glee when I finally pushed myself up at the top. Also, a passing dance with a wiggle of the hips is mandatory for a successful venture. I finally made it to the other side.

“Picasso, let’s go!” I called for my arachnid companion to come forth.

With a flashy entrance of jumping up high in the air (I don’t know how) while rapidly spinning like a top, he landed gracefully on top of my shoulders like an acrobatic genius.

Dazzled at the marvelous acrobatic display, my eyes opened wide at the spider who gave me a questioning look thinking why was I staring so intently at him. He must have done some montage circus training while I strived to climb a fucking sixty-feet drop. Someday, I’ll also have the spotlight like a shining star. Until then though, I need to fix my nerve-wracking stage fright and have a training montage of my own that would hover me over and beyond the prodigies that I’d like to call Nature’s blessed normies.

Man, I really do have a lot of issues.