Vertigo

Moving for the sake of motion, thinking for the sake of clarity. It all seems so contrived as the world revolves again. It's a foul habit, but alluring nonetheless. So here I stand atop the world and yet my thoughts are on the ground. It's just my endless endeavour, the pinnacle before the plunge. Some might say that my demeanour is appalling, a reckless pursuit of a swift and inevitable demise but if that was so, I must ask, why don't I just leap? Were it not for the looming gorge, the rush of balancing on life's edge would be laid to waste. When faced with the abyss, the solicitude abates. It's a transient high but nevertheless ephemeral. It's to be expected as you bypass Death's clutches once again. It may be your tightening grip that holds you to the ledge but with eyes closed you're hovering above the world and the restlessness you can't elude. I'm clearly mad, a raving lunatic, ever gambling life away. But here I stand atop the world, and I wish not to come back down.