Shoes, They Backstab

All my shoes hate me. How very two-faced! They look all pretty and lovable then they just stab me in the back (of my feet, which totally counts). Shoes are like (some) girls: vicious, manipulative and high-maintenance. They even felt comfy when I first tried them on, you know, as if they loved me back, as if the feeling was mutual. Deceitful creatures. I'm not even talking about heels. Even flats!

I spend all that money on them and treat them with love only to be betrayed. Oh and what are shoes for again? Right, protecting my feet. "You were the chosen one!" Sometimes when I just can't take it anymore, I take them off, walk barefooted and suddenly I see trees of green, clouds of white, bright blessed days, dark sacred nights, and I think to myself, what a wonderful world!

I guess it's the flip flops that are always faithful. They don't bite, they're cheap and they aren't high maintenance at all. Actually...no. Once I was in Cambodia wearing flip flops and it broke when we had to walk through a certain village filled with mud and animal faeces and mother of rubbish. I ended up with stuff in my hair and my face and my clothes. I was quite a sight. Great. Then it's official. ALL my shoes hate me.

PS: In case you think I'm a total idiot, I'm not. (Just partially.) I do wear the right size and I do have a small percentage of faithful shoes.