One of our neighbors from next door died around 6 or 7 pm. From what could be ascertained, he died peacefully. He was, if I’m correct, in his 60s, just like his sister (who owns the house) with whom he lived for the last three years.

Continue reading Sad, but calm night →

Do you get balloons?

If so, how do you feel around them?

How do you feel if or when that balloon slowly floats away from your grasp?

Mom bought a balloon (the type that’s all chrome-shiny on the inside) for me from the giftshop at school when she came to pick me up.

While its a nice balloon, with colorful “HAPPY BIRTHDAY” and streamers on both sides, it still reminds me of a nagging feeling that I get whenever I see a balloon.

I have a fear of balloons floating away.

No, I don’t think its a phobia, but its close.

Even I don’t know why I have such a thing concerning balloons. It’s like, even if the balloon is weighted down by the string just enough to keep it from making its oh-so-inevitable ascent into aerospheres unknown.

See, if I see a balloon escape from some 4-year-old’s hand, a desperate urge to grab the balloon before its too late wells up inside of me.

I’ve grown in recent years to ignore the impulse, but it is still aware of the sight of a balloon (even if the balloon isn’t in any “danger”).

And even if I ignore the impulse, I still watch that balloon with a great deal of internal despondency.

It’s like….I just let that balloon go, I couldn’t save it from forever floating away from the grasp of that child.

Or is it because that balloon is a persona of some kind?
Is it because it is going to a place to whence I cannot go?

Is the balloon somehow tied to my fear of death?