top of page

The Brink

There is something about the edge. That feeling of teetering ever so fragile on the fine line between night and day, between black and white.

It's like the pin line of the horizon, that walking on this point is the only place where you are able to feel properly alive.

Oh god, I'm so exhausted.

I honestly don't really know what this is about.

I have so much to say, a recent trip to the Middle East, a wild overland mission to a surf contest, but all I can think about is that feeling of sitting on the edge of a cliff and being unable to look away. Staring at the chasm with such fear and ecstasy.

Why don't we throw ourselves off?

Why do some people?

Why is that line in between so addictive?

Sometimes though, I want to close my eyes and wish the addiction had never began. Wish that I could pinch myself and wake up at my mum's house with her nagging me to mow the lawn.

That I had never thrown myself blindly into the horizon, never learned how to fly. Sometimes my wings just get so tired. How long is this flying thing supposed to go on?

Trust me the view is amazing up here, and maybe this is just fatigue, but sometimes I wonder what would happen if I just let go. Let myself plummet into the sea, to plunge uninhibited into cobalt depths, to say hello to some fish down there and then just keep sinking, down down and down.

Until I wake up in the wrong bed, or declare my love for the wrong person (again) or perhaps sprout a mermaid tail and keep on flapping until I find Atlantis, and only then will I wish for the surface and once again, be willing myself back to my mum's house to clean the bathroom on Saturdays and ride my push bike around.

Maybe this whole adult thing is just not for me.

Maybe it is not for anyone.

Maybe I am only writing this because I just lost round one of a surf contest, or maybe because I am just tired. So tired. That I now wish I had all the sleep I have missed on buses, planes and Friday nights.

That all this time I have spent going out on my own has me feeling just that. Alone.

That I have displaced myself. Almost on purpose.

Almost not.


P.s. I promise I'll have real stories from my recent adventures, but right now I am slightly preoccupied on a beach in South Africa. Thanks for being patient.

bottom of page