Kite

banksy-hope-girl1

I am all cramped into a box, awaiting somebody to pick me up and take me home. Home, where someone will play with me, take me out. Finally, I came home.  Years went by as I was still in the box, out in the garage, waiting.

The day had come and my box being open. Oh my, I smell the fresh air, I hear the wind that will make me fly. I shed the box and stretching my wings.  My old bones need some massage, so I can be a better kite.  Finally, all in place and I am waiting for the wind to get under my wings and take my high up into the sky. Oh, there is a string-why there is a string? I should be free, I am out of the box, I don’t understand…. This string gets hooked to me and it controls me, controls the hight and where I go, oh, this is not fair.

The wind gets under me and I fell that I can do anything, be as great as I can be, the string get loose and I take off up in to the sky. Higher and higher I go.  People looks small, like ants and birds are closer, I think I can touch them. It is so wonderful to fly, the wind is the only thing you need to reach new heights and the desire to do so. There is nothing stopping you, until the string gets tight and someone down below yanks on it, brining you back to reality.  And the reality is you are not free, you have strings attached and it is just a matter of time till someone or something will bring you down to the ground, or is it? what if I pull harder on that string, work together with the wind and get his help, get more power under my wings and……

It’s a choice we have to make every day: do I want to be free or let the string to control me and eventually end up back in the box?

Decisions, Decisions, Decisions…..

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