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Baby's Black Balloon
Feb. 7th, 2003 01:27 pmAbout a week or two ago, there was this "Nonviolence" Week at school, where members of several clubs and organizations, mostly from the Beacon, I guess, got together and bought a bunch of black balloon with silver ties and little index cards on the bottoms. In silver metallic ink, they printed 'RIP' and the name of someone who had been killed as a result of school violence.
All of these balloons were floating up in the ceiling in front of the main office, but there's none there now. I remember though, only about two days after the nonviolence week started, I was standing over at the 31 Balboa stop over on 32nd Ave, waiting to go home. There was no one to talk to, and it was nice and sunny, so I was looking around-- at the students over near Pizza Joint, at the school, at the ocean, and at the sky.
I watched as one of those black balloons appeared from the school and started bobbing along the wind current over towards the bus stop, bobbing so near the electrical wires. But rubber doesn't conduct electricity, I reminded myself, and the wind kept carrying that balloon across the sky. It was so far up I didn't catch the name -probably wasn't anyone I'd ever heard of, anyway. It's not like Wash has a history of violence in the halls anyway, but all the same, I had this feeling at least one of those students' names attached to those glossy balloons was from Wash.
Sure, a good number of students at Wash have died -in car accidents, from diseases, from heart attacks (!) and from accidents like my sister. It's tragic when life ends so short, when people say you've got so much to experience. Isn't it worse to die in a place where, by all rights, you should feel protected? Schools aren't exactly hospitals, aren't homes or castles or fortresses. But they are institutions of the government, they are places where you have access to learning, access to food, bathrooms, and the love of your friends. How many people really look at SCHOOL that way? More than once, I've felt that weight of reluctance, how easy it would be to simply stay in bed, feign sickness, and ignore the responsibility of high school? But it's a gift, a blessing, now that I think about it. Maybe Eva's right and I *will* miss high school once it's over. Maybe not... maybe it'll take a while for that to sink in.
But at the moment I was watching that balloon bounce across the blue expanse, I was just thinking such random thoughts. I was thinking, "How mysterious, I wonder how that balloon got out of the middle of the hallway, when it was floating a good 10 feet above anyone's head?" I was thinking "I miss my sister. I wish I'd spent more time with her, that more of my friends had known her, that maybe I should have dedicated a bench here at school to her or something." Maybe. I was wondering "Whose name is it on that tag?" I watched it float over my head and towards the Sunset District. I had this assured feeling that whoever's spirit was held in place by a silver string on that balloon was going home. It was just this strange thought I had, not even knowing whose name it was or how, when, and where they'd died. It didn't matter much, I suppose, but I guess it gave my faith a little bit of a burst. Whoever's soul had been there, had had their life ended much too soon, at the wrong time and the wrong place, was finally going home, was finally free. That made me feel good.
Throughout it all, I kept hearing the words of "Black Balloon" by the Goo Goo Dolls. It fit, of course, and it was one of my favorite songs not long ago that I used to hear frequently on Alice. It was always kind of sad, but at the end, there was still that sense of hope, of freedom. It's a wonderful sort of emotion to express in words, in song. When you really feel it though, it's like nothing else.
Baby's black balloon makes her fly
I almost fell into that hole in your life
And you're not thinking 'bout tomorrow
'Cause you were the same as me
But on your knees
A thousand other boys could never reach you
How could I have been the one?
I saw the world spin beneath you
And scatter like ice from the spoon
That was your womb
Comin' down the world turned over
And angels fall without you there
And I go on as you get colder
Or are you someone's prayer
You know the lies they always told you
And the love you never know
What's the things they never showed you
That swallow the light from the sun
Inside your room, yeah
Comin' down the world turned over
And angels fall without you there
And I go on as you get colder
Always someone
And there's no time left for losin'
When you stand they fall
Comin' down the world turned over
And angels fall without you there
And I go on as you get colder
All because I'm
Comin' down the years turn over
And angels fall without you there
And I'll go on to bring you home and
All because I'm
All because I'm
And I'll become
What you became to me
All of these balloons were floating up in the ceiling in front of the main office, but there's none there now. I remember though, only about two days after the nonviolence week started, I was standing over at the 31 Balboa stop over on 32nd Ave, waiting to go home. There was no one to talk to, and it was nice and sunny, so I was looking around-- at the students over near Pizza Joint, at the school, at the ocean, and at the sky.
I watched as one of those black balloons appeared from the school and started bobbing along the wind current over towards the bus stop, bobbing so near the electrical wires. But rubber doesn't conduct electricity, I reminded myself, and the wind kept carrying that balloon across the sky. It was so far up I didn't catch the name -probably wasn't anyone I'd ever heard of, anyway. It's not like Wash has a history of violence in the halls anyway, but all the same, I had this feeling at least one of those students' names attached to those glossy balloons was from Wash.
Sure, a good number of students at Wash have died -in car accidents, from diseases, from heart attacks (!) and from accidents like my sister. It's tragic when life ends so short, when people say you've got so much to experience. Isn't it worse to die in a place where, by all rights, you should feel protected? Schools aren't exactly hospitals, aren't homes or castles or fortresses. But they are institutions of the government, they are places where you have access to learning, access to food, bathrooms, and the love of your friends. How many people really look at SCHOOL that way? More than once, I've felt that weight of reluctance, how easy it would be to simply stay in bed, feign sickness, and ignore the responsibility of high school? But it's a gift, a blessing, now that I think about it. Maybe Eva's right and I *will* miss high school once it's over. Maybe not... maybe it'll take a while for that to sink in.
But at the moment I was watching that balloon bounce across the blue expanse, I was just thinking such random thoughts. I was thinking, "How mysterious, I wonder how that balloon got out of the middle of the hallway, when it was floating a good 10 feet above anyone's head?" I was thinking "I miss my sister. I wish I'd spent more time with her, that more of my friends had known her, that maybe I should have dedicated a bench here at school to her or something." Maybe. I was wondering "Whose name is it on that tag?" I watched it float over my head and towards the Sunset District. I had this assured feeling that whoever's spirit was held in place by a silver string on that balloon was going home. It was just this strange thought I had, not even knowing whose name it was or how, when, and where they'd died. It didn't matter much, I suppose, but I guess it gave my faith a little bit of a burst. Whoever's soul had been there, had had their life ended much too soon, at the wrong time and the wrong place, was finally going home, was finally free. That made me feel good.
Throughout it all, I kept hearing the words of "Black Balloon" by the Goo Goo Dolls. It fit, of course, and it was one of my favorite songs not long ago that I used to hear frequently on Alice. It was always kind of sad, but at the end, there was still that sense of hope, of freedom. It's a wonderful sort of emotion to express in words, in song. When you really feel it though, it's like nothing else.
Baby's black balloon makes her fly
I almost fell into that hole in your life
And you're not thinking 'bout tomorrow
'Cause you were the same as me
But on your knees
A thousand other boys could never reach you
How could I have been the one?
I saw the world spin beneath you
And scatter like ice from the spoon
That was your womb
Comin' down the world turned over
And angels fall without you there
And I go on as you get colder
Or are you someone's prayer
You know the lies they always told you
And the love you never know
What's the things they never showed you
That swallow the light from the sun
Inside your room, yeah
Comin' down the world turned over
And angels fall without you there
And I go on as you get colder
Always someone
And there's no time left for losin'
When you stand they fall
Comin' down the world turned over
And angels fall without you there
And I go on as you get colder
All because I'm
Comin' down the years turn over
And angels fall without you there
And I'll go on to bring you home and
All because I'm
All because I'm
And I'll become
What you became to me
