Shoe Communication For My Fellow Shyfolk!

ShyGuy,
Citizen of The World

Shoes can talk, but only if you listen to them. Nah I'm just pissn' with you, that's crap. If you want your shoes to talk, you're going to have to get clever. But boy, I wish they could talk. People are beautiful on the inside, and shoes are ugly on the inside and therefore easier to talk to.

Sometimes you just wake up and you want to go back to dreamland, and then there's the three summer buses you can’t afford and the train ride you steal, there all are just nightmares. I believe I have friends I've never met on this bus, but you lovely loud fuckers won't let me lose the morning in a bad poem. All the things I would say, but my voice is like the ghost of an otter floating on a wet leaf, and every word that lisps out feels like the jagged edge of a clam drowning in helium. Today and every other day inside I could really use a hug, but I have fleas that think they're fireflies and you look like you're wearing a coat of scabies and got them mushroom eyes.

I saw a friend in a sidewalk chalk drawing yesterday, and it's been washed away, but how can you be mad at the underpaid groundskeeper, when they're holding the hose in such a seductive way. Crowded buses feel lonely, everybody's all buried in books and the ground. Making eye contact is awkward, you never know how people will receive you, too sappy, too squishy, too starry-eyed, too queer, too short, too full of fear, or too damn shy. But true connections are beautiful, but they're awkward to make, so how do you break the ice, without breaking nice?

The Answer: shoe communication. Simply write what you're feeling on your shoes and you never have to look at another nose again, but you still have that sweet sweet human connection. If the whole world did it, well damn, I'd bet you can imagine that for yourself. And we all know how Nancy Sinatra's fake wig won't stop telling us that boots are made for walking, but mine are just smelly shells for some lazy feet who really want to walk in their own shoes, in a distant dreamland. But I believe my boots were meant to do the talking. If you want to walk in a strange dreamland with me, then keep your eyes on the ground to find a friend in afoot.


For more articles by ShyGuy, click here. To establish contact, email shyguy@surrealtimes.net.

Log-in or register an account to post a comment.