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| layout | title | date | categories | images | ||||
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| post | Chasing the Edge | 2018-07-07 |
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The Edge is that which lights. That which sets the blood pumping. That which sparks the soul.
The Edge is the edge between life and death.
Chasing the Edge leads to the Rush.
The Rush is the fire lit from the Edge. The thump of heart pumping at the Edge. The blaze of soul sparked at the Edge.
The Rush is adrenaline, nothing more — nothing less.
It is also the only way I know how to Live.
I don’t know how to feel other than the Rush. All I have is the Edge.
The Edge makes me feel alive. Always have…always will…
Of course, the thing about the Edge is it has to be dangerous. Else it wouldn’t *be *the Edge!
Chasing the Rush is just like chasing the wind. Exciting, but ultimately futile. Each time it hits just a little less. Boosts just a little less. So I push closer to the Edge. One step, one step at a time. Chasing leaves on the breeze, head wired upwards. Couldn’t see the cliff coming up if I wanted to.
Addiction.
Addiction and…craving.
I cannot feel satisfaction. Even at the Edge, there is no satisfaction. Always demand for MORE, MORE, MORE. Ever greater hits, ever greater heights.
Sooner or later, it’ll kill me. Maybe then it’ll be satisfied. The Edge will have drawn the blood it demands. Maybe then I’ll be satisfied.
Originally published on Medium