Life is always fragile. Just like the skin of a balloon, staying away from
something sharp. Most of the time, life and death are just two sides
between this thin line. The balloon as a medium in this projection, its
existence determines whether those embryos are alive or not. If the
balloon gets poked, the embryos die. Here, the balloon, is like the
container, is like the breeding ground is what forms life, what protects
life, what remains life. It presents the form of life. But is the balloon a form that remains life? or a prison that imprisons what those lives really are?