The Mountain’s Judgment So, it’s you, your best friend (also you), and the both of you are in a hard place we can all relate to even if we’ve never been there. Why? Because we’ve heard about it, seen it, thought about it. We’re on a mountaintop. Who was the asshole here? Was it me, for taking your sacrifice? Or was it you, for offering it? Was it both of us, for climbing a mountain we weren’t prepared for, knowing full well what could happen? Or was it the mountain itself, for existing, for standing there like a challenge we couldn’t resist? It doesn’t matter. The mountain doesn’t care about blame or fairness or morality. It only cares that we came, that we tried, and that we failed. They’ll tell stories about us, the people down below. They’ll say we were brave, that we reached higher than anyone else dared to, that we fought until the end. They’ll call us heroes. And they’ll be wrong. We weren’t brave. We were stupid. We didn’t plan. We didn’t think. We let our pride and our egos drive us to a place we couldn’t survive. And now, we’re paying the price. If you’re reading this, if you’re hearing this, then learn from our mistakes. Think more. Live longer. Don’t climb mountains you’re not ready for, and don’t drag your best friend to the top with you just to die together. Because dying on the summit isn’t glory. It’s failure. And the mountain doesn’t care. So, it’s you, your best friend (also you), and the both of you are in a hard place we can all relate to even if we’ve never been there. Why? Because we’ve heard about it, seen it, thought about it. We’re on a mountaintop.
