"Happiness is Nessnessnessnessipha, A Bubble is A Bubble"

In the memory, happiness became emptiness
In the memory, sadness tend to stay awake
In the city I was born,
where everything was artificial, the trees, the hills, the people..
I once was lying on the artificial ground, called floor, with her
another piece of the floor right next to the ocean, on the harbor, under the sight-seeing balcony...
looking at the roof, through the gaps, there was the sky
the sky that consisted of different shapes of sky-high buildings

People were walking by
but we could be careless with the help from alcohol...
still we saw them... so did they...
they were my neighbors in this city,
in which no one wanna be the next Einstein...
maybe it's too hard, or they thought it would be easier or wiser to be a millionaire.
or they would be better off, cause that man was once labeled as an idiot.
or they had given up...
only the time reminded me how long I was asking myself who they were...
I couldn't locate the answer... because they didn't know the answer...
they did not want me to ask

"Would you hold my hand?" I whispered to myself and to her
"Where do you wanna go?" she replied

A guy with the joker dress came around and started his business in this harbor,
because this harbor was a famous place in this city
tourists, residents, wanderers, would all come down to this place..
we all would like to have the ocean view for our background of conversations,
the faces showed the content.
tricks after tricks, and the tricks gathered people around to watch
money was his living necessity
Appreciation was his soul, he would never be tired by the smiling faces
Clapping and more Clappings as difficulties increased, stopped while the security guards burst in
he didn't have any paper work to continue his show...
All he had were a bubble making stick and a bottle of soap mixed with water.

bubbles floating around even after he left.
What were bubbles.. a layer that divided air, inside and outside,
so light that they would follow the wind, or they were part of the wind
I had seen him before, a sudden recall, these long lasting big bubbles looked familiar to me
sometimes, a small one inside a bigger one...
or he could just do the same trick as my old friend could...
an old friend who was always good at bubble tricks...
who might appear to be a funny guy outside
who was not a happy guy inside
the more he's sad, the better jokes or tricks he could make
To entertain himself and to entertain others.

the wind from the ocean with the smell of salty fish mixed wet summer air together guiding each bubble to have its own random chaotic move
bubbles splashed in the air, or when hitting any surface
a thicker, not necessary stronger, layer might bounce back a bit before it popped
a bubble reached and was floating around our crossing fingers hands
it was confusing to see which finger was mine or hers, for her nails were never polished
but it wasn't hard when I followed the feeling through my vein
gently lift off middle finger
bubble popped faster than my eyes could catch
hands and part of the arms were wet
a bubble flew up and down, from my left to right across my eyes, "slow down"
and they were gone

certain dose of soap, adding to the water
would calculate how much time the bubbles could sustain
basic trick I heard from my old bubble friend, and he was done with the chemical mix
a big circular-shaped-stick he pulled out, dived, and pulled out again
a huge bubble came alive in front of my eyes
I was amazed by the one to one ratio reflection of my head on the bubble
"Bubbles never last long," he said as he showed off his multi-layer bubble
it, or they, floating in the air,
showing off the ability to deny the natural dragging force, called gravity
kids from the playground were attracted, came and had a look
"I have to realize how long each bubble would last before saying bye bye," he said to the air with another weird shape stick in his hand,
A cut in the air, Ten bubbles came alive in a line
"I just need to keep on making the bubbles, and the show would go on itself."
He gave the kids a smile
The kids replied with laughs, jumps, and clapping bubbles in the air with sweat

Maybe I should have learned the bubble tricks from him
maybe I would then remember the smiles better
a squeezed by my fingers and hands, "it's getting late."
she nodded

Four o'clock in the morning, a supposed to be quiet street was crowded by a car accident
policeman guiding cars for a detour
firemen counting one to three to rescue the trapped driver
nurses giving injuries a first aid
tension and pressure were created by the walkie talkies unclear sound
the blood created the cry, the memory
"Bubbles," she said with her hand holding on to mine.

Kachun
Hosted by www.Geocities.ws

1