This is the story of a child. A child either. Probably as many. And as it grew he and his relationship with balloons. I hope you enjoy this story and everything in it.
was the early sixties and was still very young. I was that age where his father was a god and his mother everything.
With an extraordinary imagination and ingenuity to play, maintained, nevertheless, a strange relationship with balloons as the object of the game. He was fascinated by the magic of his slow movements, seemed not of this world. That allowed him to emulate many fantasies as a goalkeeper football. Lunged for him as his brother threw it high up to the couch. Or simulate moves in slow motion like a star of such style that his talent and deserve to see action again and again.
But ... There's always a but. In this case two. On the one hand still had the fear, to grasp, that it exploded. It was still very young. And that caused him some concern. On the other hand, always fell. Yes, he had seen in movies of children who had a balloon with a rope and he always kept up. And the balloon was proud, erect. Maybe even with a certain cockiness. Or the cockiness is what he would have in the case of someday one of those. But in the Spain of the sixties, of those, no. Had to comply with these.
took, but it got the desired day. How little he imagined that this would be the constant in his life! : To see things taking longer. Always try to work under the patient. And never sufficiently worked: always need more.
There was the novelty dress event. And so to pay, as their parents cried to buy it. About
younger than the subjects in that place, had several children who had already made your purchase. Some other, crying because her parents did not have access to the expense. Others, even without balloon, also crying ... ... while the balloon away into the sky and amid outrage from parents which stated the fleeting effect of spending.
It was no longer a child. In fact, had long since stopped playing with balloons. It was probably automatically after missing the fear of being exploited in their hands. Stopped fearing it and stopped playing with them. Play is exciting. When you take away exciting game that you're opening the door of boredom, he found.
But in that plaza opened a new era.
His parents had to buy another balloon to the little brother. This is tied to the wrist in leak prevention. But he .... He soon became clear that it wanted to take in hand: Grasp it. At the end of the day was old! And so, not without the constant pressure from her mother's threats of consequences that escape him.
At ten minutes (which seemed to him an eternity) he realized that his hand was on the verge of gangrene. Or at least I was starting to not feel it. Such was the force that held the line, barely noticed the claims of his younger brother to take him also untied balloon.
As expected, the younger brother escaped the balloon at first sigh. ... With the subsequent tears.
him, stunned, expectant, contemplated the situation. How wonderful, he thought. Were futile efforts to comfort his brother. Although he said: - Do not cry! Hush! Because if you can not hear you crying and crying because the balloon away from you.
Years passed. The child grew and balloons too. As an adult, had the opportunity to attend a hot air balloon festival. He turned his magic.
could only go from the ground. But his head, since that time, began to be in heaven.
went for it, at least one day, get one of them.
And fly.
and see what is ballooning. By their silence. As you can hear your thoughts on this silence!
And be flying. Magic.
Very special.
Later, driving in the train. Barcelona reached deep in thought. The trip had been mulling over things. Projects, future difficulties, some satisfaction .... All those things that one would put in the waking state when accompanied by the torpor of an early start.
train's arrival in Barcelona I never know if it occurs between a few clear that between tunnels ... or if there are tunnels between the gaps. The change in light input bothers both cases I thought. The train slowed
his march to the ISS. Enough to be able to entertain reading some of the many graffiti that abound there. And suddenly, he read:
with dreams never do what a child does with his balloon ...
That to play you lose ...
... and losing ... ... Cry.
This reading struck him to wake him at all:
- Dreams move slowly, just be patient and enjoy them as if your talent was at its height.
- should not grasp the dreams because you prevent them rise, that's how you enjoy them: seeing up, grow.
- And little you can, ride over them. And fly.
I hope you enjoyed this story. The story of a child. A child either. Probably as many. And as it grew he and his relationship with balloons.
I embrace.
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