Monday, May 15, 2006 ;
11:51 AM
You walk in a store, hopeful that you will find what you are looking for. The store's music is jam-packed with one techno hit after another and your ears start ringing, in protest of head-banging, un-rythmic melodies - if you could call them that.
Neon pinks, yellows, silvers and golds blind you.
but you perservered on.
See, when you have an attachment to something, this jittery feeling inside of you the moment you saw them.
You knew that you had to brave the odds.
Sounds piercing giggles and loud chatters from pimply teenagers hit your face once you're near to the destination, and eventually the prize.
it's there, sitting prettily, the perfect curve, the perfect cut, perfect height, perfect colour, and as you try to squeeze into its surprisingly comfortable interior, you gush at its really reasonable price of 1 cent short of a double digit number!
Then, you squeeze in further. You can't.
You beckon a rebonded-highlighted-blonded salesperson with really long nails that are made of the toughest nail-material ever possible on a human that always seem to precariously slice your skin, but never does.
She brings another.
You try again, hoping, already visualising the ensemble that would complement them really well.
You can't.
She brings another. That is the maximum. Apparently, you were born too big.
She brings out a wooden instrument, that looks like a back massager, and screws it into them, winding and screwing, determined to make it fit.
You try again. You can't.
You leave the store, disappointed, but the minute you step out of the store, your optimisim rises as you repeat the cycle when you browse for more shoes.
And so is the story.
play it softly, so gently♥
