Can I get directions to...?

She wrote and she wrote til her fingers grew weary from the well-thought out process of picking adjectives like dandelions, her hands familiar to the soft fuzzy nouns floating off into the unknown to fill expected wishes. Her words unfolding like a crisp rose opening its eyes for the first time to this huge world. Reading in between the lines of a world that exists only to those who search. Explorers endeavor the cold ridges of conflict, true explorers survive the mountainous climb of rising action and dive head first into an emotional conclusion.Words a world in itself, my world exists somewhere scattered among scribbled poems, leeching quotes, and page painted stories. Where might I find your world?