Perhaps the only thing keeping me alive is not my friends, nor family, but something deeper.
Perhaps it is the music that courses through my blood when I sleep, eat, breath, and live.
There is no question that perhaps it is the sound of a ball teasing the back of a net with it's side.
The pitch, the field. My home.
Soccer, futball, the dance of the gods, and the game of the gods.
Can there really be any love besides this one?
I raise to you, a cross to the other side, where the ball will change it's face to whomever is on that side.
I raise to you, who I do not wish to know, a slide tackle, and a meg, which gives him the glory of humiliating someone in a dynamic duo move.
The ball is a woman to men, a lover who must be taken care of and payed attention to. For many western women, and even women who play in general, the ball is simply something that is used to play a glorious game. That is not true.
The ball to me, one of the very few who may believe this, is a soulmate. That I long for and cannot live without. My days are spent thinking of the last time I was able to caress him with my touch and be able to spend my time with him. The ball is a soulmate that is a partner for life, even after death. The ball is a soulmate that crosses borders and ages, and even skills to bring it partner happiness. Finding a soulmate so early is a blessing.
That is a reason why I am alive to speak to you.
The soulmate let's itself be hurt over and over again, and sometimes hurts its partner, because that is how relationships are. The soulmate however, with more and more touches, does not stay mad for long as long as it is pleased by the treatment of its partner's touches. Touch them often, and gently, but not ever for long. Fleeting touches that make them want to come back to you.
The sport, with the partner and soulmate, involves several lovers, and a net.
The ball is someone who cannot stay loyal until it is proven that there is pure love to be found. Love the ball, and only then will you find yourself keeping it's touches and love to yourself. If not, that ball will be spread around to share love with others.
The net is a lovely thing as well. The net is the family of the ball. The ball want's to return to its family from a long time away,so is it not our duty to return our lover to their parent?
The soccer field is where no worldly ties appear. Bonds are never broken. Beasts roam the world when soccer is made.
The game does not discriminate, only the people do. The game does not scorn the players, and the game never banishes a good person from its arms.
The game is something to be revered, but only there can you become a god.
