There is a fine line between pain and pleasure, hate and love, heaven and hell.

We walk it daily, searching for that little adrenaline rush that will catapult us into euphoria.

We search for ways to make that edge just a little sharper, a little more scary, a little more dangerous. We search for more meaning, more enlightenment, more power.

I want to push that line further. Test it. Walk it without fear and cross over as often as I can. I want to walk in a new realm of being.

I want to fly.

—

Three: Stanzas
Emily Brontë

Often rebuked, yet always back returning
To those first feelings that were born with me,
And leaving busy chase of wealth and learning
For idle dreams of things that cannot be:

To-day, I will seek not the shadowy region;
Its unsustaining vastness waxes drear;
And vision rising, legion after legion,
Bring the unreal world too strangely near.

I’ll walk, but not in old heroic traces,
And not in paths of high morality,
And not among the half-distinguished faces,
The clouded forms of long-past history.

I’ll walk where my own nature would be leading:
It vexes me to choose another guide:
Where the gray flocks in ferny glens are feeding;
Where the wild wind blows on the mountain side.

What have those lonely mountains worth revealing?
More glory and more grief than I can tell:
The earth that wakes one human heart to feeling
Can centre both the worlds of Heaven and Hell.