display | more...
In many ways bungee jumping is much like an execution.

They take your dignity, shackle your ankles together, blind you and march you off the edge into a volcano. Okay, maybe not the last bit.

This is shuffling timidly to the edge, an animal chained to sweet, blessed terra firma. Hands involuntarily reaching into the air for something to hold on to. Staring into blurred infinity, the curse of myopia, squinting in the harsh daylight with photochromaticless iridium. Wear your bionic eyes.

Now what? Swan dive? Hop? Jump? Skip?
Just step.

This is everything. The first girl you ever loved. The Santa Maria. Your first dead pet. The theory of relativity. Your first school dance. 9.81ms-2. Your first funeral. This is eternity. Now and never.

You're pointing south. Swimming headfirst into the void. Mute. Silent. Deaf. This is incredible!

Please stop. Please stop. Please stop. Please stop. Please stop. Please stop.

The river meets me on the way down. The riverbed does not. The vector changes. I am not hanging upside-down with a wet shirt hanging inside-out over my face right now.

Rescue is by two angels with a long pole and a rubber dinghy. Check the wings, it's sometimes glare from the water. I am unshackled, my eyes returned and settled back on the earth.


He screams like a little girl the whole way down.

We walk back up the cliff, we don't feel the burning in our thighs or the heat of the sun. Our pupils as big as dinner plates, blood furiously rushing, shirts sopping wet. We wear the same fashion of crack addicts or long-distance runners. The same look.

Holy shit. I'm alive!

Stepping off the edge of the world requires great faith in technology. I'd do it again in a heartbeat.

Log in or register to write something here or to contact authors.