Ups and Downs of Being A Balloon

Once again I woke up feeling deflated and depleted.  Like an old balloon trapped high in a tree somewhere.  I can’t recall the moments when I was young and must have felt hopeful and full of life, rising higher and higher like a helium balloon. But what goes up must come down.  Eventually even these iconic examples of hope find themselves sagging from the branch of some ancient oak. Or, the unlucky ones wind up in a dumpster or some limitless landfill in nowhere America.  I guess I should feel lucky that I’m feeling like the sagging, deflated sort, and haven’t yet been taken out with the trash.

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