Nothing

I am feeling obliged to write something, but can think of nothing.

I saw a balloon fly overhead yesterday, floating gaily ever upwards, but low enough that I could see it was bright, cherry-red on one side, silver on the other. I watched as it went higher and higher, eventually becoming a black speck which disappeared into the clouds.

I want to be that balloon. Somewhere, a child was no doubt crying, but the balloon looked exuberant as it headed out towards open ocean.

Wouldn't it be nice to be that free? But our human frailties betray us; eventually we need sleep, water, food, company… Given a certain amount of time, there is always something we have to do. Somewhere we have to be. There is no freedom.

I need a drink.