Base Jumping Is Scary. A Joke.

"We've lost our way,
And if we could only see us now...
The words of the dead ring in our ears,
But its only a lie.
The voice in your head brings you to tears,
But you don't know why.
Yes, it's only a lie...
Isn't it?"

"So Strange I Remember You"
- Thrice


I have this funny feeling that I get when I feel that an era of my life is over. Clearly and obviously, I'm only twenty years old, and life is just beginning, and there have been very few "eras" of my life that I have passed through, save junior high school (R.I.P. Five Iron Frenzy), and yadda yadda yadda. Still, the feeling of a coming completion haunts me.

Do you know the one? It's the one accompanied by that powerful scent of nostalgia noxious enough to knock over a cow (I realize this is an odd allusion at best, but I feel it works to give you a sense of the oddness of the previously mentioned feeling). The one that signifies that everything you've ever known is coming to a close, and leaves you wondering, "Where the crap did everyone go?" Yeah, that one.

And yet, while this funny feeling tells me that I'm sitting on the precipice of something incredible, I am for some odd reason failing to comprehend that I'm sitting on the edge of that incredible cliff. A good cliff, mind you, a wicked awesome cliff... but the fact that I can't seem to see an enormous cliff right in front of me bothers me. Although, I suppose my saying that completely negates the previous statement and the statement that I notice that I don't notice that I'm sitting on an enormous cliff itself is completely self-defeating... but yet I am still bothered. Humph.

So perhaps I do see the precipice, but am bothered by the fact that I can't see what treasure lies at the bottom of the canyon. This is a better proposal for certain. I suppose, then, that I can rule out that I'm NOT bothered by the notion that I might hit the ground and go splat; no, I'm more-than-fairly-certain that my parachute IS in fact inside my backpack and WILL in fact come out and open when I pull the cord. But, then I have to wonder: "Am I seriously bothered by the fact that I don't know if after having what could be the greatest experience of my entire life I'll land and not have a Nissan Xterra to take me right back to Suburbia and a Double Mocha Frappichino to sip along the way?"

One doesn't base jump in order to see what's down there, that's for horseshoes and hand gre--oh wait, wrong euphemism. Eh, maybe it still works...

Base jumping is done for the sheer sensation of falling. And you know what Van Halen says about it: "Might as well...JUMP!"





I have this funny feeling that I'm weightless.

Do you know the one?

It's the one where you feel like you've left both your stomach and your sanity back at the top, and you hope to God that you sprout wings and fly.

It's the one where you feel like you've surrendered to the wind, being okay with it blowing you this way and that.

It's the one where you've let it all go.

It's the one where you have this gnawing, ravenous feeling deep inside you.

No wait... I'm just hungry.