Bubble Bursts

Can you hear them too, dear reader?, bubbles bursting all over the place. 

I have a couple of friends that really hate balloons, especially when they anticipate startling pops, followed closely by bits of colourful latex splatters littering here there and everywhere, evidence of a murdered airy thing. Inside each blown up or bloated balloon is air, helium, or water, depending on desired float-ability. Bubbles and balloons are similar, in that both have short life spans and are created for entertainment, rather than meaningful purpose. 

Self-deception

All bubbles and balloons pop, and when people pretend to live inside a bubble, as was most recently the case, they bring in with them a self-deception that is bound to burst open and splatter them with the yuck of lies. We have collectively witnessed the second greatest scam perpetrated in human history ~ the first and greatest occurred in a garden called Eden. My my, our ancestors sure were gullibly arrogant, and not much has changed since then. Back to bubbles. 

Bubbles are those delightful rainbow coloured see through things that seem impossibly magical. Babies blow bubbles, and children do too. A little dish soap and water, a handle with a hoop at the end dipped in the formula and voila, a bubble making mechanism has been created for endless fun... well, at least as long as the dish liquid and water mixture lasts, the bubble blower stays amused, or someone bursts your bubbles ~ more on this in a couple of paragraphs.

Types of bubbles 

Big bubbles are always the best, and the one that manages to generate a massive bubble gets a little hit of satisfaction for their achievement. Launch the thing, watch it fly high in the sky, and hope that somehow it never ruptures: but there is the knowing, if you are an honest fella, a truthful gal, that what goes up, must come down, and bubbles are not meant to last. 

Have you ever seen one of those doubles? I am presuming that you have made dish soap bubbles of course, and if you haven't, it is your time to play. Doubles: when delightfully twins are made, two bubbles intricately attached from one blow into the hoop on the handle that has been dipped in the soapy water. Ahhh, it is always cool when this happens. Some people claimed that there was room in their personal bubble for others made of the same soapy substance; anyone made from different stuff, divergent solid material that would not, could not float high in the sky, weren't permitted entrance. They were the wrong sort, not bubbly material and could damage the insular seclusion, so there simply had to be exclusion. 

Trudy

Now Trudy, a man of many mixed up words and meanings, has declared something quite opposite of what he stated adamantly not long ago, publicly. He is Mr. Contrary, and admits that some injury has occurred despite certain solutions for a pretend problem, being very safe, very effective, and a must do and have for the masses. He blew bubbles with his halitosis breathe speeches, and so many people wanted to be in these floaty things that they let themselves be mingled into the formula! Trudy is bursting bubbles, pop pop pop, all over the place, with the very needles he used to inject the bubbly people to float them high on self-righteous arrogance, and presently drop them low on their bubbly heads. Note, not everyone was arrogant, some sincerely believed Mr. Contrary, and they are loved and embraced by those that would not, could not, blend into the formula.

Trudy is stating an uncomfortable, responsibility, accountability laden truth that the bubble people would rather not hear. He is stating what many solid, immoveable, gravity and ground heavy people already knew: no one had to believe in the bubbles as real. No one had to blow the same bubbles as he blew, moving into them, finding other bubbles to attach themselves to, and leaving many a loved one, I mean non bubble, out of their circle of relationship. Bubbles are bursting, pop pop pop...

Threat to well-being

Dear reader, I could state that this was a fun little metaphorical message to write, but it was not. I think of all the people that kept me out of their lives, people I declared as my forevers, and never in a million dog years, would have believed that they could treat me, or anyone, as though we were a threat to their well-being. People I shared my pain, my hopes, my dreams, my soulful essence with. I wasn't in their "bubble", a buzz word used by the wicked ones to make enemies of friends and relatives. I grieve once more for the love losses, wishing they hadn't taken such an airy, fake and feigned stand manufactured from make-believe. 

People have shown us their substance, what their souls are made of, and who we might have thought they were, burst, leaving behind splatters of faulty thinking, weak character, lack lustre latex like remnants of wasted humanity, murdered by their own self-deception. 

My only hope is for them to feel the heaviness of loss too, repent of their self-indulgence, ask for forgiveness from God and man, and once more decide that love is more valuable then fake-believe self-preservation.

For whosoever will save his life shall lose it: 

and whosoever will lose his life for my sake shall find it 

(Matthew 16:25)

We were created for relationship with God and one another. When this is impaired and we are told to keep our distance, we know the schemes of the devil are evident.