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Description
THE BALLOON PEOPLE.
Written by Kiara Mignone
Copywritten too bitches, so dont steal!

Picture yourself as a balloon.
You are a shell, an empty thing, until you recieve air or helium blown into you...giving you life.
It matters which kind of gas is blown into you, so think of this as potential.
If you get air, something common, then you sink to the floor; being normal and ordinary; an unnoticed being.
If you are lucky enough to get helium, then you rise through the air, and try to amount to bigger, and greater heights.
But sometimes you are held down, by a string that is tieing you to something... something that keeps you down, keeps you from your "destiny", your sky.
The balloons try to sail through the air, to get as high as they can, trying to achieve their goals; may it be happiness or wealth, fame, anything.
But as you think you have made it, and finally beat the system... you pop.
Sometimes you escape from the things that hold you down, and start rising through the air, you get jerked down and startled from a force that you have no control over.
Sometimes from the thing you are being held down by, finds it amusing to pop you. Murdered.
As you pop, or die, your air, your soul, leaves your form and rises to the clouds, to the heavens.
You find yourself joining back with the other air, or souls, you are not trapped in the form you once were, and shall never be again.

Description
THE BALLOON PEOPLE.
Written by Kiara Mignone
Copywritten too bitches, so dont steal!

Picture yourself as a balloon.
You are a shell, an empty thing, until you recieve air or helium blown into you...giving you life.
It matters which kind of gas is blown into you, so think of this as potential.
If you get air, something common, then you sink to the floor; being normal and ordinary; an unnoticed being.
If you are lucky enough to get helium, then you rise through the air, and try to amount to bigger, and greater heights.
But sometimes you are held down, by a string that is tieing you to something... something that keeps you down, keeps you from your "destiny", your sky.
The balloons try to sail through the air, to get as high as they can, trying to achieve their goals; may it be happiness or wealth, fame, anything.
But as you think you have made it, and finally beat the system... you pop.
Sometimes you escape from the things that hold you down, and start rising through the air, you get jerked down and startled from a force that you have no control over.
Sometimes from the thing you are being held down by, finds it amusing to pop you. Murdered.
As you pop, or die, your air, your soul, leaves your form and rises to the clouds, to the heavens.
You find yourself joining back with the other air, or souls, you are not trapped in the form you once were, and shall never be again.