I have no secrets left. I once knew you but you no longer remember. After this rainy season, perhaps even I would forget. I saw each face I knew become bigger, firmer, more mature, harder but ultimately an array of loose skin and fragility. Between the fold of these wrinkles I can count my heartaches, but there is always the night with its solace of forgetfulness.

Once as a child I could hold onto a moment. When my mind was not polluted enough to constantly think about time. The world passed on, ran away, and as I started running with it, everyone I knew walked their own paths. Each of us terribly alone in this journey, finding our own illusions to believe we have someone with us. Someone who can look over our shoulders, someone on whom we could lean. And we do, until they slip away like a wave.

But there is always that moment in our childhood, before we are pushed into the boxing ring to fight out for our survival, when just standing with a balloon was everything the world was about.