When I was a kid, living a life full of joy, everything is black and white, I had many toys. Each day I get a different toy, sometimes toys I don't like or need but I just like the time I spent playing.
I remember once I lost a very dear toy, a toy I used to play with it for a kinda long time. I don't know how I lost it, but I kind of somehow remember somethings happened and I lost track of playing with it so it grew on me not paying attention to my toy and then not caring about it and then forgot where I last put it. But I knew I lost it.
After a very short time I found a ball on the street. I was possessed with football for a very long time but never played it because I was afraid of getting hurt or injured because it is a contact sport. I conquered my fears finally and went to play with that ball, I found myself playing very well. For sometime I thought I became one with the ball, I couldn't leave the ball at any moment (only during class). I literary slept and the ball in my arms, woke up to it, ate with the ball front of me. I did lived most of my time with that ball.
My precious ball lost some air, I tried to fill it up but couldn't make it. Someone took my ball and fixed it, and it stayed with him, now it's his ball. I can't say am thrilled about it, but it was not meant to be forever, I had to grow up and apart. I loved that ball, and thanks to that ball I became cleared headed, and sports interested. I realized that I can be better and have differential horizons than I used to have.
Am not sorry that I couldn't fix the ball, am sorry I was selfish and thought only about my own amusement. I can't say I don't miss that ball, it's hard to miss something someone got used to. I wish the new guy treat that ball better than I did, and I wish he enjoys and have his own moments with the ball just like I had mine. I hold no grudges hence I found my way.
Cheers for those days bally.
I remember once I lost a very dear toy, a toy I used to play with it for a kinda long time. I don't know how I lost it, but I kind of somehow remember somethings happened and I lost track of playing with it so it grew on me not paying attention to my toy and then not caring about it and then forgot where I last put it. But I knew I lost it.
After a very short time I found a ball on the street. I was possessed with football for a very long time but never played it because I was afraid of getting hurt or injured because it is a contact sport. I conquered my fears finally and went to play with that ball, I found myself playing very well. For sometime I thought I became one with the ball, I couldn't leave the ball at any moment (only during class). I literary slept and the ball in my arms, woke up to it, ate with the ball front of me. I did lived most of my time with that ball.
My precious ball lost some air, I tried to fill it up but couldn't make it. Someone took my ball and fixed it, and it stayed with him, now it's his ball. I can't say am thrilled about it, but it was not meant to be forever, I had to grow up and apart. I loved that ball, and thanks to that ball I became cleared headed, and sports interested. I realized that I can be better and have differential horizons than I used to have.
Am not sorry that I couldn't fix the ball, am sorry I was selfish and thought only about my own amusement. I can't say I don't miss that ball, it's hard to miss something someone got used to. I wish the new guy treat that ball better than I did, and I wish he enjoys and have his own moments with the ball just like I had mine. I hold no grudges hence I found my way.
Cheers for those days bally.
This is not about a ball.
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