Bubbles

My nephew has been out for holidays for a week and only returns in another. I miss that kid a lot! With this said, missing him reminded me of something I wrote back in 2014, when he was 2, about us playing with bubbles.

Today I picked up the text again, rewrote it and translated it to English. I hope you like it as much as I do.

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I like to play with bubbles. My mom says that it is childish and that I’m not a kid anymore, but she should already know that some things will never change. Such as the joy I get when making bubbles or exploring places I’ve never been before.
And I shoot bubbles, with those ring-shaped wands full of soap that children love so much. I shoot them while playing with my nephew. He smiles and giggles because there are so many bubbles or a giant one! I find it adorable and keep shooting them, smiling as much as he does.
So many bubbles are blown, big and small, reflecting the sunlight that pierces through them, turning into rainbow orbs. They rise or fall until they burst with a small, almost inaudible, plop; some of them are glued to each other, like a couple. And they rise and rise until they burst.
They rise as I listen to a happy song, Dialogue With The Stars by In Flames. After another plop, there I am again filling the wand with soap. I concentrated all the air in my lungs to create a giant bubble, which ended up bursting before even releasing itself of its circular prison. A sorrowful song is playing now, Misery’s Crown by Dark Tranquility. I try to make another huge bubble, this time succeeding only to have it burst a split-second after, exploding with all the effort put in its creation.
Just the same as in real life. The same happens with the lovey-dovey bubbles, bursting when going against a table or simply because that’s how it is. Just like in real life.
And the song keeps playing with the singer growling “don’t bring your misery down on me!”
The kid smiles and I get thoughtful. I think about why am I thinking with such negativity regarding a children’s toy, or about any trivial thing that makes me think this way. I don’t know, I’m just like this. It’s not like I am sad, everyone has their ups and downs; I just happen to have this vision of the world.
A great part of my inspiration comes from sadness and other negative feelings, it has always been like this. Maybe it’s because I unconsciously don’t think it makes sense to write about happy things all the time, or maybe it’s because I believe feelings like pain and yearning are felt stronger than the others.
As I come back to real life, ready to blow more bubbles, I happen to see myself smiling. I smile because of the joyful toddler and I smile because the bubbles are a portal of nostalgia to the time when I was his age. When things were simple and I had fun in an innocent and naive way. The fun is still the same, I just experience it differently nowadays.
I’m blowing bubbles right now, as I write. Not only it is fun, it gives me time to think and relax. It’s a way to kill the routine, too, at least until I get bored.
I’m smiling again, this time because I’m thinking about how silly am I to have so much fun making bubbles, enough fun to be writing about them. These bubbles of various shapes and colors are some of the small things that make my monochromatic life shine a little bit more, however.