I stood on the mountaintop. And when I looked to the East and I looked to the West and contemplate the sun moon and stars---I saw the moon, basking in its earthly glow---Its shadow self rested on the clouds that was blowing to the left and to the right, past it---I felt a blast of air rush over my body from the forces of wind. My body was naked except for my skis, the air was cold---my nipples hardened, a gentle rustle of air through my chest hair and through my pubic hair bush. My penis---my penis became fully erect. It was so hard and felt so tingly---it pointed up at the stars. My balls was shriveled up towards my body. I wanted to come but I couldn’t stroke it because I had ski poles attached to my hands---my dick quivered, it hesitated, tense with anticipation---I could rub it on a rock? No, I said to my soul. Have some self-denial---after all, my nudity was all of a sudden embarrassing. My dick was leaking pre-cum because of my excitement at the world---I could peer into the mysts in every direction for thousands of miles---I could see other lesser mountaintops, covered in snows---I could see the great outlays of the cities of the world---Paris, France; London, England; Tokyo Japan; Moscow Russia; and Milan, Italy. I could see the United States of America, my home country, in its splendor. The sun was rising over its eastern seaboard---I saw Atlanta, Georgia, just waking up---I saw New York City---with its Statue of Liberty, its Freedom Tower, Its Empire State Building, its glimmering harbors. And I saw Portland, Oregon---shrouded in the lengthening shadows of excessive liberalism---my dick went soft. A drop of pre-cum fell on to the snow---like a tear for lost opportunity. A crowd of hikers and Sherpas with trains of pack animals and little helicopter drone helpers crested the mountaintop, I quickly put on all my clothes---my ski pants and warm parka---it felt good---it was warm on my soft skin. I hit the slopes---my skis kicked up a spray of snow that showered the band of climbers with ice crystals. My skis jumped off a rock and I went flying right over their heads. They felt surprised and knew that what I was doing was impressive. I couldn’t stand to have all that commotion around me which is why I had to leave. I cussed a liberated swear word at them and also at my own soul. In that second that I caught air, I glanced up at the moon---and I knew that you must be looking at the moon in that instant too. I could tell. When my skis landed with a crunch and a swerve---I did a Triple Slalom right next to the Donkeys---The people stepped aside in shock---I smiled to myself and in my reverie, I knew that I would probably never come to the top of Mount Everest again. I hit sixty miles per hour---then seventy, then eighty---I jumped over a whole ridge. My eyes had frozen tears from the friction of the wind and the mist---I hit one hundred miles per hour---I knew suddenly that there was a good chance that I would die right there on the slopes of this mountain---this great, awesome, terrible mountain---oh rocks---oh stones---oh snows---oh crevasses! I spoke these words to my tenacious soul. My tongue was like a piece of leather---my teeth were like chattering glass, I tried to breathe but it was like my mouth was stuffed with cotton balls. My adrenaline was maxed out---it coursed through my body and stabbed through my veins like so many knives---my body all of a sudden felt like a lightning bolt---powerful jolts of energy animated my limbs as I thrashed wildly with skis and ski poles--- pointed in different directions. I became like a five pointed star---then like a triangle, then like the letter Y---and then like a star again---my crotch had turned into an icy sludge---I had urinated myself---my prick, not wanting to be left out of its share of the excitement, and animated too, by the adrenaline, poked eagerly at the hardened underwear---it nudged itself out the left side of my briefs, which were be-studded with crystals of yellow. Its tip---broke through the icy barriers with abandon like a helmeted stuntman---it now stood at full attention---waiting to see---along with my body, my brain, my face, and my eyes---what we were going to do next, what fate was about to befall us. I shit my pants, a curl of shit emanated out of my anus---displacing the tension energies out of my body---through my final chakra---my chakras got tensed up and mixed up because now I believed that I was truly about to be smashed on a sheet of ice that I was approaching at high speeds---one hundred and sixty miles per hour---one hundred and eighty miles per hour. A surge of dopamine washed through my body now---stimulated by some final optimistic innuendo---the situation seemed funny---not a big deal. The dopamine became like suds foaming up my lymph nodes and bursting through my lung tissues with gladness---I laughed aloud---my anus felt like a ring of fried calamari---my hands sprouted chicken strips---the finger tips was like french fries in a chicken strip basket lunch---in other words, my hands became ineffectual---limp. The ski poles flew from my grasp. My feet turned to roast beef and my ski boots flew right off---I was ready to die. Just a man hurtling through the ether---coming down off mount Everest in great haste---a man who is ready. A person on the verge. And then to my bestartlement---my great surprise, my parachute opened, I had forgotten all about it. My ski fail had turned into a base jump which quickly shifted into a para-sail motion when a wind gust of warm air caught my flailing body and my pink and green striped parachute in its bosom. I was carried over sunlit foothills and canyons now at approximately one hundred miles per hour---the towering mountain now far behind me. I reached into my North Face pack, and pulling the Columbia cords and straps, I unleashed my snacks that I had stashed---Red Bull Energy, Power Bar, Fruit Leathers, Juice Box. Upon devouring these in flight the littered packages flew gleefully out of my grasp and landed on the Tibetan Monks’ bald heads and went down monasteries’ chimneys---Florida’s Natural Fruit Chews’ packages got snagged in prayer flags. Breezes were blowing up and down the pant legs of my snowsuit as I cruised over the grassy fields, forests and streams, at about eighty miles per hour now---the warm sunlight evaporated the urine from my pants. My cock was small and soft---the spirit of my crotch and anus chakras was chill---my dick head was like a little smiling Buddah, no hair. I reached into my pants---my dick jumped---all the pubes was gone---it must have fallen out during my moment of angst---however now all was smooth. Smooth sailing---the sky was clear, I saw many birds and butterflies—I heard a Tibetan Monk’s Prayer Horn---I saw a pack of California people preparing for the climb---they said for me to look out---I thought that they must just be jealous to see a man in such a successful flight. I flipped them the bird just as to my dismay I landed with a skidding splash into a roaring river, my parachute quickly wilted into the river behind me like a great leaf of spinach hitting a hot skillet. The parachute strings quickly wrapped around my limbs as I attempted to swim amidst the violently churning waters---whoops---a jagged rock came and gouged me good---oh my goodness I can barely feel the lower half of my body. The wet wilted parachute fabric wrapped me up like a mummy---my North Face Gear straps choked me out, my face was turning blue, and I thought of you. Soon we approached a great waterfall---my body---almost a corpse at this point shot over the edge like a torpedo---my last flight. Then I landed into the vortex of a great whirlpool---as great a whirlpool as anyone had ever seen. On my way down to the bottom, round and round, I was able to get a little air to breathe, because the hydrodynamics had carved such a cavity in the water. I only had a few moments left---I quickly masturbated, then I died---secure in my knowledge of the uniqueness of my accomplishment---as an American.