Edges

Sometimes life is about trying to get the edge.

Trying to steel something. Ahead maybe.

Some people live on the edge. 

Some need their edge knocking off them. 

Some people will do anything to find it.

Some will do anything to avoid living on it.

The edge gives you energy.

Or it drains your life force.

It gives you strength or it saps it.

Age may make you lose your edge. You might hope as you age that things are cosier, rounder, warmer, altogether less edgy. That's all fine, if your methods are sound and if your diagnosis of your life is accurate and not deluded.

Or you may intensify your search for it, wonder where it went.

Or the interactivity of your life might equally have given you that edge, perhaps even made it permanent.

We often admire most those with the energy that their edges bring. But some edges beg to be smoothed, trained. 

Some people have edges that are too sharp for their outside world. They may not suit society. They may not suit a functional life.

Some edges arrive already cut, already meaningful. You may not have chosen the design but you may appreciate their symmetry and shine. Edges that reflect at the right times yet cut like the hardest material on earth when required.

Other edges may needs to be romanced. There may be altogether too sharp for you. Or you may not have the tools. Or the time. Or you may.

Some people might use drugs or alcohol to get the edge. Creatives in particular.

Some might use tactics - bullying, cheating, lying.

Big parts of a unique life involve having the edge or giving it away.

The point is to know where the edge is. So you can inform far you might push it and still keep a fingernail on it.

You may learn to dance astride it like a game of schoolgirl hopscotch.

Or one tentative jump may send you into oblivion.