My days are spent like I'm challenging Mt Everest these days...

I started off the journey, happy and excited, and then I get scared, I felt like chickening out because I've gone through many failed attempts. I remember telling myself I'll never try to climb another mountain again. Stay on flat ground, SAFETY FIRST!
And then I get hopeful as the journey gets smoother and weather got a little more bearable. So I thought to myself, maybe this time, it's different. You've learnt from your past experiences and you've a set of different expectations. Even if you tumble again, it'll be less painful. You are prepared to bear the consequences. You know what's in it for you - it could be NOTHING at all. Plus the Everest doesn't feel as daunting as what others have spoke about. So maybe, just maybe, I can still get there...

And then as I get closer and closer to the peak (or so I thought), I happily anticipate the day I could stand on top of the mountain, looking down at the rest of the world. The view would be panoramic, breath taking and splendid... That is when I'll know that the little bruises and scars I've accumulated along the way will be all worthwhile. This thought keeps me hanging there.

And then all of a sudden, I felt the earth beneath my feet shaking... The ice got too slippery and I lost my foothold. I slided down the steep slope and suffered multiple abrasions all over my body. Lucky for me, I caught hold of a huge rock that stuck out and I managed to save myself. I'm at the bottom of the mountain again.

I wanted to throw in the towel. It's too painful, it's too dangerous. Remember how miserable it was the last time round you had to pick yourself up from that terrible fall?? Why don't you just spare yourself the unnecessary pain??? What if this time round you don't survive????

But knowing me and my thick numb skull, none of these are reasons enough for me to give up. I kept reminding myself this is a choice that I've made. No one told me I'll make it there. No one promised that the weather would be kind. No one told me the view would be as wonderful as I imagined.

But this is what I want and I know I wouldn't want to live with any more regrets in my life...

So I took a deep breath from my depleting oxygen tank and got my arse moving again. Step by step, inch by inch, I start the climb again, with only one thought in my mind -- it's worth all the while.

People tell me, want a view from the Everest, take a helicopter or at least, take the cable up as far as possible. I guess everybody gets a different scenic sense of beauty from the Everest. And no one else but myself will ever understand the beauty of what I see through my own eyes as I stand on the peak of the mountain when I get there, the way I want to. If I ever do get there...

It's scary becos this entire process seems to be repeating itself over and over again... Every time I breathe from my oxygen tank I'm wondering how long more would the air last me. Every time I tell myself to be strong and to be fine even if I end up broken again, I fear I can no longer find the strength in me...