It dances and pirouettes beyond your reach and there is nothing for it, you surge forward, you must surge forward, and you so do with reckless abandon. Attainable or otherwise, too much has now been sacrificed for any other endevour to be anything but insignificant; The prize is all-important.

Onward and onward you press unabated, the cost irrelevant. The flesh is flain, your viscera laid bare and this is but the beginning. The material is inconsequential; the prize is immeasurable.

And so it is that no expense is spared, every inch of you dedicated to the struggle. It would be said that nothing is left, but there yet remain resources. Now laughter is employed, then anger and whimsicality. Sorrow next is expended, joy, isolation. Following these, first wit, then wisdom are both spent and still the reward eludes you. But it is justifiable for there is nothing beyond the prize and any sacrifice is reasonable; the prize is absolute.

It is so close and you have come so far. The road behind you is littered with all that was procurable, was briefly yours and then was spent. They were but commodities, each merely another in the long line of expenses and all paid gladly for, as you cut the last tenuous thread of reality, you are free from all that held you back.
You have forfeit everything and the game is won. I bid you dance and pirouette and it pleases me greatly to watch you perform. Far away, a new prize leaves its mundane world and makes the first sacrifice.