Living there would be hell if they were in such a place. There is no place like the edge. It is the place where you imagine. Very few return to tell their stories, so the story continues. See you there on the edge, or nearby. Obey my instructions, and you'll improve your chances of making it out.
The edge is a non-compromising place to be at any time. With a dead drop into infinity, you disappear in front of your own eyes. It can also disappear in the mess, then you find yourself in no-man's land.
In my young life, the onslaught was against me of becoming an adult from the day I was born on the 24th of January 1941. The Garmand torpedoed a ship in the harbor in Bridgetown, Barbados, WI. I was less than a year old when those torpedoes were launched; I would have heard the Explosion. The odds were stacked well against me of making it into adult life. But as I am here, I know I've made it this far. I've been lucky, and I know my luck. But it wasn't luck alone that got me here. It was hard work and believing in myself and in others whom I thought.
Food was scarce in Barbados when I was growing up due to the German blockade of the island. I was very thankful for the lack of food. It was when my upper body was too heavy for my knees, so they went inwards due to the weight. Still, I went on to do one of the most challenging courses for young men that men designed. I did P Com, and I passed with a few flying colors. I became a regular soldier in the British Army in 1960, having crossed the Atlantic to do just that. I became part of the rebuild. On the other hand, the immigrants of England, Scotland, and Wales thought that we had come to take what was theirs. But I can tell you we already had it taken from us; what was ours?
Jumping out of an airplane was fun, but getting there was hard work. In my six years, I have jumped over Salisbury Plain in the day and at night and in the deserts of Shaza, Middle East. I was a UN soldier in Cyprus. I'm standing on guard for one of its leaders. The 1960s were a healing time, but the wound was not healed.
In my young life, the onslaught was against me of becoming an adult from the day I was born on the 24th of January 1941. The Garmand torpedoed a ship in the harbor in Bridgetown, Barbados, WI. I was less than a year old when those torpedoes were launched; I would have heard the Explosion. The odds were stacked well against me of making it into adult life. But as I am here, I know I've made it this far. I've been lucky, and I know my luck. But it wasn't luck alone that got me here. It was hard work and believing in myself and in others whom I thought.Food was scarce in Barbados when I was growing up due to the German blockade of the island. I was very thankful for the lack of food. It was when my upper body was too heavy for my knees, so they went inwards due to the weight. Still, I went on to do one of the most challenging courses for young men that men designed. I did P Com, and I passed with a few flying colors. I became a regular soldier in the British Army in 1960, having crossed the Atlantic to do just that. I became part of the rebuild. On the other hand, the immigrants of England, Scotland, and Wales thought that we had come to take what was theirs. But I can tell you we already had it taken from us; what was ours?Jumping out of an airplane was fun, but getting there was hard work. In my six years, I have jumped over Salisbury Plain in the day and at night and in the deserts of Shaza, Middle East. I was a UN soldier in Cyprus. I'm standing on guard for one of its leaders. The 1960s were a healing time, but the wound was not healed.
