The man was on the corner of the city street and appeared to be selling balloons. He was known as the balloon man,and people have claimed to once saw him w/ his balloons floating right along.
The big red balloon drifted its way above the heads of the small children it’s great swollen skin a mystery and a shame, because it was beyond reach, beyond control. There above the heads of the adults it went unnoticed as a girl cried and reached for it.
I held tightly to the balloon string, even though the balloon itself had long ago floated away. There was a dot in the sky, I thought maybe might be my balloon, but no, it was a bird and disinclined to be tied to my string, anyway.
The boy in the balloon was a stupid media scheme that I, like many other people, frown upon. I was at work when this happened, waitressing at a pizza parlor that hosted several televisions that had ESPN or CNN on all the time. Everyone was transfixed on that stupid story. I knew it was
I don’t like when balloons pop. It’s sad. I mean, I know the balloon isn’t alive. It can’t feel pain or anything. But it’s like a stupid meaning to me, of life. Everything ends. The balloon is, for some reason, a childhood symbol. And when it pops, does that mean that we have to grow up?
The small red balloon bounces lightly as I tug it behind me, walking through the streets of Orthodox. I never thought that something so small, so weightless, could seem so powerful. I can see the red reflection on the sidewalk as I look down, and I just can’t help but smile. I look up at Ellen, a large grin on my face, happy that he bought it for me. Happy that there was peace in the city.
I walk down the street with my hand in Ellen’s, the balloon bopping behind us.
The city is at peace.
“You know, I’d love to have a hot air balloon.”
“I don’t know if that’s less practical than a boat, but it sounds like it.”
“But wouldn’t it be wonderful? To float up and up in a craft that’s open, not a metal box where you can only see as far as your window.”
A ballon in a child’s hand outside of a carnival with a tall ferris wheel. It is evening and there are lanterns making a golden glow through the black bare trees of autumn.
there was a red balloon against the blue sky, striking and strangely sad. there was a child below it, looking up, not sad, just resigned. the balloon was out of reach, floating away.
there was a girl with a red balloon. she let it go into the sky one day without a thought of regret that she may feel. the red balloon was her best friend but she let it go so it could experience greater things than her small hands. she could only give so much.
up. i NEED to see this movie. several people have promised to watch it with me, one of them being him. oh him. he who doesn’t realize just how much i sorta really love him.
balloon, balloons float and when you draw faces on them can become your new bestest friend..ive drawn a face on a ballon.. it had a mustache and its name was guspacho
Fathers grasp in my left,
balloon ribbon in my right.
One bright summers day,
a breeze took my balloon away.
Dark eyes peering skywards,
goodbye my red balloon.
To the surprise of the adults, the Brick Man was more popular with the children than the Balloon Man. The kids understood why, though. Bricks didn’t float away or shrivel up like balloons. And they knew they could keep their bricks forever.
It’s the hardest thing when you look up into the sky and can’t help but feel like you’re lost and insignificant. There are so many bigger things in life; in the sky, on this world, in the universe in general. And you see this small little dot start to drift off into and become as insignificant as you and me.
when i was younger i had a fascination with balloons it was crazy i would just sit there with my balloon all day thinking it was one of my best friends i would talk to it like if it was real.
Blue, yellow, red, green. Balloons of all sorts of colours flew around the room at her birthday party. It was a surprise party, and boy, was she surprised. She was supposed to be in shock, and she was, as none of them knew that she had been afraid of balloons.
I could never have you, it is really distracting when you are listening to music while doing this. But i wish i could float away like a balloon sometimes. Lovely.
there once was a boy with a red balloon. This balloon followed him every where, it even followed his moods. Up and down. Up and down. One day when they boy got extremly depressed the balloon popped right in his very childlike hands.
balloons are simply the imagry of clowns and of carnivals
they express the thoughts of small children and they remind me of a way to excape this hell of a world
they can just float away, and never come back
and every time you come closer
closer
closer
i feel my heart expanding
chest expanding
lungs expanding
like a balloon
i could just float away
watch me go
watch me fly
watch me fly on by
as i inflated by your love.
i love balloons. i love watching them float up in the air far off into the distance. theres a sadness seeing those balloons float away knowing that they are never coming back. being a kid its like you lost a present when you accidently let go of the string.
Although her family had spent years scolding her for lack of ambition, Allie could not help it. She was aimless in nature – like a balloon floating free on the wind currents.
Red, floating, innocence. Kid like. Now my child likes to fill them with water and drag them through out my house and ruin my hard work. Herion wasted remains of that child-like dream…
And it drifted higher. I didn’t even get to say goodbye. I didn’t get to say goodbye to the life of the afternoon, or the sun on my face or the cake still buzzing on my tastebuds. it just floated away. . .a ghost on my fingertips of this day.
The balloon popped with a large bang. As the thin white string fell down, the little girl began to cry. Her precious toy was gone, exploded by a single gust of wind.
poppity pop. it flies higher. but i know its gonna end some day. it cant survive forever. i know why. science taught me why once. but not anymore. im too old. i cant remember. i just know it will end.
balloons are full of air, if you squeeze them they will pop, if you fill them with light substances they’ll rise up to the top. balloons are for an occasion.
Balloons are a mixed blessing. On one hand, they are hella fun to play with. On the other hand, you have to blow them up, and that can hurt your cheeks. A game I played with balloons in it was Spider man 2 for xbox, and you always had to save the balloons for some stupid kid.
It drifted away from the grasp of her fingers but, carefree, she didn’t mind.
The balloon floated into the heavens, joining the white, puffy cotton candy clouds. And as it soared, she couldn’t help but to tell him that it represented her, floating higher and happier than ever before.
I saw the red balloon. It saw me. I know it did. It dipped and dived and grazed the top of my head making strands of my hair dance. They danced together in the air.
The man was on the corner of the city street and appeared to be selling balloons. He was known as the balloon man,and people have claimed to once saw him w/ his balloons floating right along.
The big red balloon drifted its way above the heads of the small children it’s great swollen skin a mystery and a shame, because it was beyond reach, beyond control. There above the heads of the adults it went unnoticed as a girl cried and reached for it.
I held tightly to the balloon string, even though the balloon itself had long ago floated away. There was a dot in the sky, I thought maybe might be my balloon, but no, it was a bird and disinclined to be tied to my string, anyway.
I love to blow balloons up for my niece, she has so much fun with them but she always cries when they fly away. Balloons are so much fun.
The boy in the balloon was a stupid media scheme that I, like many other people, frown upon. I was at work when this happened, waitressing at a pizza parlor that hosted several televisions that had ESPN or CNN on all the time. Everyone was transfixed on that stupid story. I knew it was
I don’t like when balloons pop. It’s sad. I mean, I know the balloon isn’t alive. It can’t feel pain or anything. But it’s like a stupid meaning to me, of life. Everything ends. The balloon is, for some reason, a childhood symbol. And when it pops, does that mean that we have to grow up?
He watched it float up, away.
Blue and gold and purple. Helium,
the kind they give you on
your birthday.
His birthday was over now, anyway.
The small red balloon bounces lightly as I tug it behind me, walking through the streets of Orthodox. I never thought that something so small, so weightless, could seem so powerful. I can see the red reflection on the sidewalk as I look down, and I just can’t help but smile. I look up at Ellen, a large grin on my face, happy that he bought it for me. Happy that there was peace in the city.
I walk down the street with my hand in Ellen’s, the balloon bopping behind us.
The city is at peace.
“You know, I’d love to have a hot air balloon.”
“I don’t know if that’s less practical than a boat, but it sounds like it.”
“But wouldn’t it be wonderful? To float up and up in a craft that’s open, not a metal box where you can only see as far as your window.”
Imagine our house floated into the sky by a bunch of balloons peeking from the roof. Imagine soaring over the earth while you looked out your window.
a fun way to spend your time with friends. let your thoughts fly and remember that sky is were we aim
A ballon in a child’s hand outside of a carnival with a tall ferris wheel. It is evening and there are lanterns making a golden glow through the black bare trees of autumn.
there was a red balloon against the blue sky, striking and strangely sad. there was a child below it, looking up, not sad, just resigned. the balloon was out of reach, floating away.
there was a girl with a red balloon. she let it go into the sky one day without a thought of regret that she may feel. the red balloon was her best friend but she let it go so it could experience greater things than her small hands. she could only give so much.
up. i NEED to see this movie. several people have promised to watch it with me, one of them being him. oh him. he who doesn’t realize just how much i sorta really love him.
balloon, balloons float and when you draw faces on them can become your new bestest friend..ive drawn a face on a ballon.. it had a mustache and its name was guspacho
Fathers grasp in my left,
balloon ribbon in my right.
One bright summers day,
a breeze took my balloon away.
Dark eyes peering skywards,
goodbye my red balloon.
To the surprise of the adults, the Brick Man was more popular with the children than the Balloon Man. The kids understood why, though. Bricks didn’t float away or shrivel up like balloons. And they knew they could keep their bricks forever.
It’s the hardest thing when you look up into the sky and can’t help but feel like you’re lost and insignificant. There are so many bigger things in life; in the sky, on this world, in the universe in general. And you see this small little dot start to drift off into and become as insignificant as you and me.
when i was younger i had a fascination with balloons it was crazy i would just sit there with my balloon all day thinking it was one of my best friends i would talk to it like if it was real.
Blue, yellow, red, green. Balloons of all sorts of colours flew around the room at her birthday party. It was a surprise party, and boy, was she surprised. She was supposed to be in shock, and she was, as none of them knew that she had been afraid of balloons.
I could never have you, it is really distracting when you are listening to music while doing this. But i wish i could float away like a balloon sometimes. Lovely.
there once was a boy with a red balloon. This balloon followed him every where, it even followed his moods. Up and down. Up and down. One day when they boy got extremly depressed the balloon popped right in his very childlike hands.
balloons are simply the imagry of clowns and of carnivals
they express the thoughts of small children and they remind me of a way to excape this hell of a world
they can just float away, and never come back
The balloon goes flying into the air
I reach and reach
but,
it just keeps going.
Where does my balloon go?
Will I ever know?
and every time you come closer
closer
closer
i feel my heart expanding
chest expanding
lungs expanding
like a balloon
i could just float away
watch me go
watch me fly
watch me fly on by
as i inflated by your love.
i love balloons. i love watching them float up in the air far off into the distance. theres a sadness seeing those balloons float away knowing that they are never coming back. being a kid its like you lost a present when you accidently let go of the string.
higher and higher
into the sky
higher and higher
reaching it’s limits
higher and higher
never stopping
higher and higher
my lovely
heroin.
Although her family had spent years scolding her for lack of ambition, Allie could not help it. She was aimless in nature – like a balloon floating free on the wind currents.
floating puff of plastic rising up into the stratosphere, eventually ending up in the gut of a bird.
Red, floating, innocence. Kid like. Now my child likes to fill them with water and drag them through out my house and ruin my hard work. Herion wasted remains of that child-like dream…
And it drifted higher. I didn’t even get to say goodbye. I didn’t get to say goodbye to the life of the afternoon, or the sun on my face or the cake still buzzing on my tastebuds. it just floated away. . .a ghost on my fingertips of this day.
i like the balloons in the movie up
The balloon popped with a large bang. As the thin white string fell down, the little girl began to cry. Her precious toy was gone, exploded by a single gust of wind.
poppity pop. it flies higher. but i know its gonna end some day. it cant survive forever. i know why. science taught me why once. but not anymore. im too old. i cant remember. i just know it will end.
balloons are made of plastic and can be filled with air. they come in different shapes and sizes like a big blue whale.
balloons are full of air, if you squeeze them they will pop, if you fill them with light substances they’ll rise up to the top. balloons are for an occasion.
Balloons are a mixed blessing. On one hand, they are hella fun to play with. On the other hand, you have to blow them up, and that can hurt your cheeks. A game I played with balloons in it was Spider man 2 for xbox, and you always had to save the balloons for some stupid kid.
It drifted away from the grasp of her fingers but, carefree, she didn’t mind.
The balloon floated into the heavens, joining the white, puffy cotton candy clouds. And as it soared, she couldn’t help but to tell him that it represented her, floating higher and happier than ever before.
I saw the red balloon. It saw me. I know it did. It dipped and dived and grazed the top of my head making strands of my hair dance. They danced together in the air.