A while ago I wrote a short story about a guitar player walking down a dirt road toward a crossroads late at night. It was a long, excruciatingly painful walk, because he was about to get the thing he wanted most in the world: the ability to play the instrument like no other human being.
Of, course, he had to pay a price.
I think that agonizingly long walk towards a tangible goal is part of the price he had to pay in order to reach that certain goal.
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