When you look down and understand that the ground is rushing towards you and you have nothing to hold on to, the world around you starts morphing into something else, into one unified idea that you don't quite understand.
You start feeling things more intensely.
You fly down letting the wind blow the layers of emotions away until you are naked in your freedom and you are, finally, excited. You stretch you arms wide apart, you open your mouth and start drinking the freedom, inhaling it, letting it get to your groins till you emotionally orgasm and touch the blue cool surface that swallows you whole. You plunge yourself into it deeper and deeper savoring the "after-pleasure", salty water sipping through the tiny slots between your lips.
When you surface again, waves start splashing against your face, toying with you, laughing at you, and you start laughing with them. You raise you head and see how small the mushroom of the cliff you've just slipped off looks from down here. And you think how lucky you are that your unintentional base-jumping has had a good outcome. And then you think that you will be careful next time and will never let it happen again (won't you?). You swim to the shore, get out of water and feel the cliff burning a hole in your back with its invisible eyes, excitement starts rising again somewhere from below your belly-button. "Fuck me!" - you say in despair and start climbing the cliff again.
...I've never jumped off a cliff, but it happens to me all the time, the whole process over and over again.
You live your life, mind your own business, and all of a sudden you see a cliff of your own sex that attracts you like hell, you see a cliff of the opposite sex that makes you wail with longing, you see a cliff that you'd like to taste, a cliff that smells of happiness and eternal joy... and on and on and on. You come to the cliffs again and again, you slip off, you fly down, and after some really nasty falls you thank God you are still alive.
So, that's my life: getting down and up again.
...I like metaphors. They make the shit of life look beautiful...