Shoes

Shoes, some of my old memories involve observing my feet taking me somewhere; to the kindergarten, wearing a black pair, small steps, one foot in front of the other. I think the grass was green, I mean, grass is always green, but what I wanted to say is I wasn´t dreaming. I´ve heard once we don´t dream in colours, and I don´t know if this is true or not, I hardly ever remember my dreams. Anyway, this is probably one of my oldest memories, my feet walking me to school.

There´s another pair, red ones this time, and I am not going anywhere, I am just spinning around in excitement before my birthday party. I could do that for a long time without getting dizzy, the faster the better, what a strange thing. I just lost this ability of not getting giddy.
What I´ve never lost was an ability to twist my ankles, or maybe an inability to avoid missteps would be a better way to put it, so that´s maybe the main reason why I was always paying attention to my feet.
I like to think my feet took me places and not the other way around, that I was deliberately choosing my paths. That would be the perfect excuse for all the dead ends I faced in my lifetime.