5.9.11

:: the edge


now there's no sound except the wind,
the needle leans down on 100,
wind-burned eyeballs strain to see down the center line,
no room at all for mistakes,
that's when the strange music starts,
the edge...

there is no honest way to explain it because the
only people who really know where it is are the
ones who have gone over.”
hunter s. thompson