I miss blowing bubbles. Blowing bubbles is always fascinating. They’re clear yet they have this color and vibrance. Just by looking at them makes you want to blow more, look at them and hold them. And just when your fingers reach the bubble and touches it—it magically disappears.

It was a lot of joy blowing bubbles when I was a kid. It always fascinated me how I would dip my wand on the bottle, blow it, chase after millions of bubbles, going around and around, jumping up and down just to pop them, and suddenly, the bubbles all pop— but you can always blow again. I never got tired blowing bubbles before. I just kept blowing, chasing, popping again and again.

When I was a kid, I knew how to make bubbles. I would just mix soap with water and I will just rub my hands together and I was able to make those round clear colorful thing that has vibrant colors. It was of different shades. It was fascinating and beautiful.

But before my fascination was over, it burst.

The first seconds of the first time I ever made bubbles was a shock surprise. I had lots of questions like, “Where did my bubble went?”, “Why did it go just all of a sudden?” I was only a kid back then, still no background on water molecules and soap compositions. But I always wonder why it disappeared suddenly.

In my life, I have come across unexplainable bubbles. Most of the times, situations and people. They always draw you in, lead you on, but just when you’re about to start to realize and be conscious of their vibrancy and magnitude, they burst and you lose them and you can’t bring them back.

It’s just bothering that life keeps giving us things that eventually will be taken from us anyway? Why touch when eventually they will pop? Why bother reach out to them when eventually they will all disappear? 

But that’s how bubbles are. They come and go but you can just dip your wand on your bottle again and blow. The only thing we can do is just treasure every bubble, enjoy their intensity and fascination of colors. Because, that’s the only thing that matters. There are always a hundred more bubbles to be made for every one that goes.

So now, I rub my hands together again. Time to make more bubbles.