I have done many exceptional things in my life. I have traveled to far-away worlds with effervescent seas. I have fought alongside rebels and mutineers: against oppressive dukes and deities. I, so vividly, remember the times I danced on the tops of skyscrapers. Thereafter howling at the moon with my fellow gypsies. But more than that, I remember the gentle laughter of friends. I remember the soft hands of those I love on mine, while the sunsetted on an entirely unforgettable day. I find my grandest adventures after the sun has dipped down out of sight, and the moon has risen to illuminate my so out of focus world. I find them as I’m hunched over in my bed. I find them as my fingers are trembling over the keys of a laptop; the glow of the screen burning in my eyes. As I rip post-it notes full of ideas off my walls and mesh them together, I become some sort of enchanter; thus beginning yet another journey. Although I may have not truly gone on such adventures, the feeling would remain the same if I had. Because, as I’ve come to realize, the truest of grand adventures starts with simply a single blank page and the desire to tell an earth-shattering story.