Some lunatic stole my Nikes a year or so ago. Instead of shoe shopping, I dug out these 7 year old Reebok's out of the shoe rack and began parading around Singapore in the embarrassments called running shoes for 9 months or so. My dad even threatened that either I stay or the shoes stay. Finally, a month ago I was bullied into shoe shopping. Got some pink Nikes. They look awright, I suppose. I mean, I wear the ugliest Dr. Scholl's in town, so pink shoes aren't gonna dent my self-esteem much. I have matching pink socks to go with.
Why are we garrulously talking about shoes and hair when bombs are rocking the Old Country? I dont know. Honestly, it's all terribly disappointing the way we all move on so quickly. But, professing anything more than shock, like for example professing grief, anxiety, tension, nervousness, will be taken for hypocrisy and melodrama. So one just feels claustrophobic, says a prayer and goes on talking about frivolous things.