Today while I was on the bus, we went past an odd site. Out the front of a Subway on South Road, there was a long, thin yellow balloon with a happy face painted on it, swaying to the wind. This balloon was massive - at least 6 feet tall (so perhaps it wasn't really a balloon), and it made me smile. At first glance, I thought it could be the epitomy of freedom; the notion of casting everything to the side, and letting yourself be moved by the wind, without thinking, without being.
And then I realised... that balloon wasn't really free. As much as it could bend and sway to the wind... it was still attached to the ground. Weighted down, unable to pull away, and just... fly. And then I wondered how much of real life this symbolised. The idea that we are free to do whatever we want... but only to an extent.
You think you have control of your life, that you're floating in the wind... but in the end... you're still chained to the ground.