Unwanted Objects
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There is a pink helium balloon 2 feet up in the sky. It's stoic, completely still.The word "PRINCESS" was bold, crooked and took up the center of the balloon. It had insanely ugly designs. I'm not entirely sure if these even qualify as designs or just three day old bird poop.
I squint my eyes at the white mess.
Rotten bird crap, might I add from the looks of it.
The string (or more like pieces of fiber delicately held together by lord knows what) looks like it has been worn on dozens of 6 year olds and fought over by those savage creatures as well.
Here it is, the world's ugliest balloon just a little above my reach. It hurt to look at. The smell was even worse.
Behind me, was a wooden bench decorated with whaddyaknow, even more bird crap.
These pigeons have been going at it lately, makes me wonder if people should stop feeding them heaps of breadcrumbs.
I gulped. Was I really going to sacrifice the bottom of my shoes for this? Even if it happens to be my brother's Adidas which I inconspicuously borrowed, without anyone knowing.
It's worth it. This is worth smelling like feces. You can do this. I think. I mean, I'd like to believe.
Screw rationality and common sense, I jumped up on the bench and leaped to grab the girly balloon. I can feel these worn out shoes making contact with the splattered crap. Really, you can never get more of an exquisite feeling.
My hands skimmed over the poor excuse of a string until I got a good grip on the very ends. The balloon slowly gravitated towards me and looked even shittier up close.
Alas, the ugly balloon is mine.
There is a totally normal calming yet assuring reasoning behind this. I am not crazy. I believe I am an adequate human being. (with a tinge of insanity here and there)
My point is, there is a reasoning. I have a collection. Not of rocks, books, jewelry or anything else that can be put into the normal category.
I gather ugly things. Things that I find hideous lying around Mapletown. Things that I know people have no use for. Things that I know need some caring.
Inspiration struck me a few days ago when I got a real good look of my no-good chemistry teacher's face.
"Damn, she is hideous," I calmly pondered one day.
That's when an epiphany conjured up in my head and I realized: Ugly things need love too.
I'm kidding.
(Mostly).
I collect things that the world would probably enjoy more if it disappeared. For instance, this crappy balloon. Who knows how many scares this flimsy thing gave to little kids and hobos alike?
But this crappy balloon is now my balloon. I will cherish it's ugliness and preserve it along with my other hideous antiquities that is to come.
I wiped my hands on my knees and started walking home with the balloon tied to my wrist.
I got wild stares from everyone on the street. It went from strangers, to acquaintances, to neighbors and alas my parent's.