As you emerge above the clouds, the world spreads out before you. You are struck by the eternity of it all. A sphere, a circle, a loop, a constant ring of feedback and repetition, an echo. You could search eternally and never find satisfaction. The itch in your chest is worse. Your need is worse. Your obsession grows ever stronger.

The hopelessness pushes you on, rather than detracts. To see the world, eternal and repeating, but also somehow finite? Finite space means that only time and effort could stop you finding it. Time is thin and waxy here, and your effort is infinite. You will find it.