A helicopter balloon. I was sitting on a circular bench at a plaza. Before me was a bunch of kids, they look like halflings in the fairy tales/children's stories. There was a huge statue dipicting a champaign bottol's glamoring moment: it's top falling and 'foam' spraying out. It was like all the joy forged into eternity, and the children were playing at the metal made 'wave' aggitated where the top fell. Suddenly, one of the parents didn't catch the wisp of a helicopter balloon while the child was so fascinated by the metal made 'wave'. The helicopter balloon docked temporarily at the shining metal 'foam' roof, and then, flew away in a unnatural spiral trajectory. It triggered me and make me think of my past. I was fascinated by the beauty of nature and want to be a physicist. I mean I wanted to be a helicopter, not balloon. Like the balloon, I thought I was a chopper. But it is not until some one, maybe my parents, finally give away the wisp which tied me to home and watched me going far away that I was disabuse by the wuthering wind and eternal silence, that I'm a balloon. I'm a balloon, I doesn't belong to the delta or green beret. I belong to the laughing crowd. I want to here people laugh. Just as my thought went to a dead end, I went back on the time axis. There, in a parallel univers, a man who looked exactly like me, put down his Java programming book, dashed toward the balloon that is about away, jumped high with a fully matured body but a heart that is as passionate as ever, reached out to the wisp, and bring the happiness of the child back to earth, before... at least before the kid start crying when I thought about this. I could be that hero, a hero in action. But I was not. I was too late. I guess that is the difference between us, the one in my mind and the one in this universe. But I will do better, maybe next time, and I will not give up trying.