There’s an edge to everything.
To life.
To death.
To fiction.
To reality.
Do you see it? It’s right in front of you, it always is.
Reach out your hand.That disturbance you feel? That’s the edge. Right there. You don’t even realize what it is.
Remember that. You’re always on the edge of life. Be careful. Because who can tell what’s beyond that?
the edge of desire
slips upon the cliff
spiraling down
ino music and hope
we are all forgotten
We are lost
What we may remmeber
we don’t seem to perspire
there is nothing
and everything
There was a time in the fifties when people in their living rooms were closer to the secret of existence than we contemporaries now can ever hope to be. If you are one of the lucky few in possession of a television that isn’t the receptacle of a $95 a month cable package with 750 channels of which 700 go unwatched, you should turn it on and find a channel that doesn’t receive signal and you will see there, static. But it’s not static. The static is the pickup of radio waves being sent to us from the outer edges of the universe, just beyond quasars, the most distant visible thing in said universe. As you stare into those scratchy sporadic lines and cracks, a hundred million static ants crawling across the screen at the speed of lightning, remember, it’s so much more than that. It is history. That amorphous static will outlive all of us, holds more weight than any greatness any of us hope to achieve, and with this revelation, it’s hard to imagine that everyday we still wake up and work 10,400 hours a year and spend the rest of the time tuned in to any of the other 749 channels that aren’t really saying anything outside of what’s happening in existence right now, that none of it will mean anything, that all of it is transient. Why do we do these things to ourselves? Why?
From the edge of his vision, lying as he was on the sandy playground, Jensen could see a black boot planted firmly. Then the braid was suddenly shipped out of his view and a delicate voice said, “He’s coming to. Let’s get the van ready and get him out of here. It worked!”
“What worked?” though Jensen as several sets of hands grappled his supine form and lifted him off the warm ground. “Here I am floating again…”
As I stood on the edge I knew it would be the last time I ever saw my own feet. I knew it would be the last time I would ever think of my family, friends, of, you.
I knew it would be the last time I would ever do anything so I finally took your advice and I prayed. For the last time in my life.
She stood on the ledge, her thin cotton skirt clinging to her as if to add a layer of protect against the weather, but it hardly mattered to her now. She felt nothing.
edge., im on it. so close im about to fall. but you dont care. you never do. you hurt me every freaking day. but why? I dont understand. im so angry all the time. i need help but dont want it. im over your crap. leave m alone.
The edge of the water was down a steep slope. It must have been high tide, I don’t ever remember being so far from the water on that beach. We sat on a log and threw stones. They bounced and rolled down into the ocean. The island was across the straight. It was a cold day.
To lose yourself in life
Is to find yourself at the edge of the world
Where there are no people
And there are no rules
But the emptiness begins to consume you
And the days seem to grow longer
Until you are trapped on the edge
There are those who like to live on the edge. Living just so they can take risks, so they can feel alive, while others like to keep safe and not try anything new and exciting.
The end of some object, as defined arbitrarily (when does the object actually stop? at the visual representation, at the force it exerts onto another object, at contour lines, at thought of the object, maybe thought is the object, i.e).
The edge of a nightmare. he could feel it, in the fading consciousness of sleep. He tugged at it, seeking the memory. When the memory finally hit him, he wished he had left it well alone.
“But it wasn’t my fault!”
“I don’t care. Who cares about you, anyways? You’re secondhand to your siblings. Your parents overlook you. You’re nothing but a spineless little wimp who has never defended yourself in your entire life. Go back to where you came from, you stupid sidekick.” He started to walk away with a smirk on his face.
She tapped on his shoulder, then punched him in the face. He lie in a lump on the floor.
She crushed his hands with her heels.
“Who’s the sidekick now?”
She liked living life on the edge. It was in her blood. From the time she was little, it defined her. Sharp and cutting, it was her best characteristic.
Living on the edge. We all wished we did it. But most can’t and will not. For the most part it is impossible. No one wants to be pariah, and most everything has already been done before. Oh well.
I was walking along the road when suddenly it came to a stop. I was scared, but I leaned over. Beyond the edge of the road, there was a dark hole. I couldn’t see anything. Someone came out from behind me and pushed me down. While I was falling, I felt like it was going forever. It wouldn’t stop. Finally, I had reached the bottom. It was like nothing I’d ever seen before.
there is an edge to the mountain, you’re pushing to the edge. There’s someone of the edge of te chair, she is holding on so much because of the movie. The edge od the river. There are rocks. Somone has an edgy dress. You’re
I stood on the edge of a cliff, not knowing what was below. I considered jumping off, because I had always wondered what it was like to fly. I kicked a stone over the edge, being careful not to fall over myself. I heard nothing for quite a while, and then it hit the ground below.
The edge was right there. Only a few steps away. Her heart hammered with fear, with adrenaline. She was so close and it would be so simple.. it just, step off.
Do you have an edge? Don’t we all? Whether they’re steep, like a cliff overlooking the sea or as razor sharp as a butcher’s knife, we have them. complicated, dangerous, precise, unique. they are ours and they are only leading to something new.
the edge of life. struggling to hold on to what’s behind you afraid to jump because of what may be in front of you. paralysed. Stuck. nowhere to go. it’s too dangerous to move forward or back. the edge denotes danger, fear, life hanging in the balance, excitement, adrenalin, LIVING!!
we hung on the edge as the ran and got closer
i almost fell as you almost pushed me over
dear shall we jump or stay here and wait
we’ll wait and they’ll watch as we meet whatever fate
hanging on the edge
hanging over the cliff
i didn’t wanna say goodbye dear
not like this.
Alex hung over the edge. Francesca was about to push him over. She didn’t understand. No one did. Alex needed to tell SOMEONE. She was just going to have to do.
“I can change my age.” Alex sputtered. “I can go back into time, and forward as well.”
the edge of a cliff just standing over top of a mountain ,looking down and seeing all the sharp edgess the madness of thinking you’re about to jump. Are you going to hit any of the pointy ends , bloodiness.
On the edge of a cliff I stood there waiting for my prince to save me. I waited for him to come and wisk me off of my feet but the longer i waited, they farther away he seemed. That’s when i knew my fate, without him I was nothing, so nothing I became.
The razor’s edge is a common enough place to live in this day and age. A strong gust of wind, a breath of malign or indifferent fate, and you tumble off into oblivion, perhaps getting knicked on the way down. There’s no safe haven.
She sat at the edge of the high-rise rooftop, swinging her legs in the air.
She was leaning back on her hands, looking up at the sky–so close, but infinitely far away. She looked like a girl without a care.
Im on the edge, of glory.
I dont know.. Edge of a knife. Fighting on the edge of my life, can’t keep loving my wife, just keep causing this strife im ending my life. Casual rhyming there. I Love you all.
im on the edge, the edge of darkness, the edge of sanity, the edge of existance. i edging away from all those i love and all that i believe. my brain tells me to stay, come back, receed from the edge,
There’s an edge to everything.
To life.
To death.
To fiction.
To reality.
Do you see it? It’s right in front of you, it always is.
Reach out your hand.That disturbance you feel? That’s the edge. Right there. You don’t even realize what it is.
Remember that. You’re always on the edge of life. Be careful. Because who can tell what’s beyond that?
I am at
the edge of desire
slips upon the cliff
spiraling down
ino music and hope
we are all forgotten
We are lost
What we may remmeber
we don’t seem to perspire
there is nothing
and everything
There was a time in the fifties when people in their living rooms were closer to the secret of existence than we contemporaries now can ever hope to be. If you are one of the lucky few in possession of a television that isn’t the receptacle of a $95 a month cable package with 750 channels of which 700 go unwatched, you should turn it on and find a channel that doesn’t receive signal and you will see there, static. But it’s not static. The static is the pickup of radio waves being sent to us from the outer edges of the universe, just beyond quasars, the most distant visible thing in said universe. As you stare into those scratchy sporadic lines and cracks, a hundred million static ants crawling across the screen at the speed of lightning, remember, it’s so much more than that. It is history. That amorphous static will outlive all of us, holds more weight than any greatness any of us hope to achieve, and with this revelation, it’s hard to imagine that everyday we still wake up and work 10,400 hours a year and spend the rest of the time tuned in to any of the other 749 channels that aren’t really saying anything outside of what’s happening in existence right now, that none of it will mean anything, that all of it is transient. Why do we do these things to ourselves? Why?
I’m on the edge, of glory! and I don’t remember the words…kudos Lady GaGa, you seem to pop up everywhere in all different ways
From the edge of his vision, lying as he was on the sandy playground, Jensen could see a black boot planted firmly. Then the braid was suddenly shipped out of his view and a delicate voice said, “He’s coming to. Let’s get the van ready and get him out of here. It worked!”
“What worked?” though Jensen as several sets of hands grappled his supine form and lifted him off the warm ground. “Here I am floating again…”
As I stood on the edge I knew it would be the last time I ever saw my own feet. I knew it would be the last time I would ever think of my family, friends, of, you.
I knew it would be the last time I would ever do anything so I finally took your advice and I prayed. For the last time in my life.
She stood on the ledge, her thin cotton skirt clinging to her as if to add a layer of protect against the weather, but it hardly mattered to her now. She felt nothing.
edge., im on it. so close im about to fall. but you dont care. you never do. you hurt me every freaking day. but why? I dont understand. im so angry all the time. i need help but dont want it. im over your crap. leave m alone.
This was what became of him. The once great hero that had saved so many lives.
The edge of insanity.
Everything he had gone through, everything he had suffered for, all that pain, all the love…
And it all led down to this.
This was the edge of insanity. The edge of him.
The breaking point.
A feeling one gets that puts them on the brick of internal explosion.
The edge of the water was down a steep slope. It must have been high tide, I don’t ever remember being so far from the water on that beach. We sat on a log and threw stones. They bounced and rolled down into the ocean. The island was across the straight. It was a cold day.
To lose yourself in life
Is to find yourself at the edge of the world
Where there are no people
And there are no rules
But the emptiness begins to consume you
And the days seem to grow longer
Until you are trapped on the edge
There are those who like to live on the edge. Living just so they can take risks, so they can feel alive, while others like to keep safe and not try anything new and exciting.
This was what became of him.
The edge of insanity.
Everything he had gone through, everything he had suffered for, all that pain…and it all led down to this.
This was the edge of insanity. The edge of him.
The breaking point.
The end of some object, as defined arbitrarily (when does the object actually stop? at the visual representation, at the force it exerts onto another object, at contour lines, at thought of the object, maybe thought is the object, i.e).
The edge of a nightmare. he could feel it, in the fading consciousness of sleep. He tugged at it, seeking the memory. When the memory finally hit him, he wished he had left it well alone.
“But it wasn’t my fault!”
“I don’t care. Who cares about you, anyways? You’re secondhand to your siblings. Your parents overlook you. You’re nothing but a spineless little wimp who has never defended yourself in your entire life. Go back to where you came from, you stupid sidekick.” He started to walk away with a smirk on his face.
She tapped on his shoulder, then punched him in the face. He lie in a lump on the floor.
She crushed his hands with her heels.
“Who’s the sidekick now?”
She liked living life on the edge. It was in her blood. From the time she was little, it defined her. Sharp and cutting, it was her best characteristic.
Living on the edge. We all wished we did it. But most can’t and will not. For the most part it is impossible. No one wants to be pariah, and most everything has already been done before. Oh well.
I was walking along the road when suddenly it came to a stop. I was scared, but I leaned over. Beyond the edge of the road, there was a dark hole. I couldn’t see anything. Someone came out from behind me and pushed me down. While I was falling, I felt like it was going forever. It wouldn’t stop. Finally, I had reached the bottom. It was like nothing I’d ever seen before.
there is an edge to the mountain, you’re pushing to the edge. There’s someone of the edge of te chair, she is holding on so much because of the movie. The edge od the river. There are rocks. Somone has an edgy dress. You’re
I stood on the edge of a cliff, not knowing what was below. I considered jumping off, because I had always wondered what it was like to fly. I kicked a stone over the edge, being careful not to fall over myself. I heard nothing for quite a while, and then it hit the ground below.
The edge was right there. Only a few steps away. Her heart hammered with fear, with adrenaline. She was so close and it would be so simple.. it just, step off.
Do you have an edge? Don’t we all? Whether they’re steep, like a cliff overlooking the sea or as razor sharp as a butcher’s knife, we have them. complicated, dangerous, precise, unique. they are ours and they are only leading to something new.
the edge of life. struggling to hold on to what’s behind you afraid to jump because of what may be in front of you. paralysed. Stuck. nowhere to go. it’s too dangerous to move forward or back. the edge denotes danger, fear, life hanging in the balance, excitement, adrenalin, LIVING!!
we hung on the edge as the ran and got closer
i almost fell as you almost pushed me over
dear shall we jump or stay here and wait
we’ll wait and they’ll watch as we meet whatever fate
hanging on the edge
hanging over the cliff
i didn’t wanna say goodbye dear
not like this.
Alex hung over the edge. Francesca was about to push him over. She didn’t understand. No one did. Alex needed to tell SOMEONE. She was just going to have to do.
“I can change my age.” Alex sputtered. “I can go back into time, and forward as well.”
the edge of a cliff just standing over top of a mountain ,looking down and seeing all the sharp edgess the madness of thinking you’re about to jump. Are you going to hit any of the pointy ends , bloodiness.
fun punk racy. falling off, losing balance. plates tables cliffs paper mountains relationships strings breaking terrible feelings, end
On the edge of a cliff I stood there waiting for my prince to save me. I waited for him to come and wisk me off of my feet but the longer i waited, they farther away he seemed. That’s when i knew my fate, without him I was nothing, so nothing I became.
world
she is on the edge.falling apart. she doesn’t know which way up is or where she’s headed. all she know’s is she’s on the edge.
The razor’s edge is a common enough place to live in this day and age. A strong gust of wind, a breath of malign or indifferent fate, and you tumble off into oblivion, perhaps getting knicked on the way down. There’s no safe haven.
standing on the edge. nothing to care about. holding a breath, fighting slight discomfort of vertigo. and looking, just looking.
She sat at the edge of the high-rise rooftop, swinging her legs in the air.
She was leaning back on her hands, looking up at the sky–so close, but infinitely far away. She looked like a girl without a care.
“I want the edge of glory tonight baby”….oh gush I’ve suffered a whole brain wash with that song last summer !
Im on the edge, of glory.
I dont know.. Edge of a knife. Fighting on the edge of my life, can’t keep loving my wife, just keep causing this strife im ending my life. Casual rhyming there. I Love you all.
i live on the edge: the mirror’s edge.
im on the edge, the edge of darkness, the edge of sanity, the edge of existance. i edging away from all those i love and all that i believe. my brain tells me to stay, come back, receed from the edge,