To me the wall is like a hymen. I am like a clumsy teenager bumbling in this mountains pantie zone. I spend time with the mountain, I warm up and put myself into a position to achieve glorious one ness with the mountain. I am confident, cocksure. I think I am pretty cool, moving along up the gradient, following the luscious smell of seduction ever closer to my peak. Then I meet the hymen. The wall that stops me reaching my goal.
I am sure that I will soon come to a nice silky smooth entry that bypasses this wall. But in the foreseeable future I will be forced to soldier on, work harder and prepare for the bloody moment of triumph, but it will hurt. There will be embarrassment on my journey towards defeating the wall. I will get advice from my more experienced peers and calculate my next manoeuvre. I will try again, I will be left limp and defeated many times before I bust the wall.
One day I will look at the mountain lovingly, insert myself into a nice rhythm and stride confidently to euphoric completion. Until that day wish me luck and hope for the best. For I have taken up one of mans greatest challenges, a noble task, a right of passage, one that I hope will leave me wiser. More mature. But until then expect the wall enforced virginal drivel to continue to flow forth in the misty zone.
