I love to walk
barefoot. It gives me a feeling of independence and freedom. Even if I''m not
walking, I can feel the earth move beneath my feet when I''m barefoot. I feel I''m naked, even when I''m fully clothed. I feel I''m pure, even if the floor is dirty, even if the ground is muddy. I feel I''m powerful, because I have the power to remove my
shoes and throw behind everything "Savoir vivre" taught us about manners and behavioral ethics... Above all, I feel I''m natural, I feel I''m me even if I''m so confused about everything else surrounding me.
I love to walk barefoot on the beach, even when it is covered with
pebbles. I don''t really mind those pebbles nibbling off my toes, leaving me with pain... Those pebbles that are somehow similar to spoken words, which letters are as scattered and dispersed, for no specific reason. Yes, for no specific reason. Can anyone explain why they took their current dispersion? Why one is bigger than the other, while the smaller one pinches twice as hard? No one can.. Just like no one can explain why people come up with silly words, disguised in arguments to illustrate some point that no illustration could ever clear out! Those pebbles that are somehow similar to unspoken words, which letters are as hidden as the sun at midnight, as confusing as an illogical labyrinth... and as clear as an honest scintillation... Walking with shoes on might spare you the pain. However walking barefoot allows you to feel the pebbles and touch your own power, the one you get by baring the pain and coming out twice as strong.
Walking barefoot is simple... Just like some people are. Some people who read my diaries for the nice words, without totally assimilating the meaning I''m trying to scream. Walking barefoot is sophisticated... It beats the shallow obligation of having to wear shoes out of respect to people, who might judge you based on your shoes. Walking barefoot is special... you wouldn''t take off your shoes for anyone, and wouldn''t see anyone barefoot. Walking barefoot is simple... just like some people are.
It''s 3.30 am now. I love it. I love how I''m fully awake, not tired, not beaten. I love the smell of June outside, I love the night, I love my shiny window that shows my cat''s footprint, I love my shiny window that shows me the world outside... so silent, so peaceful, so far away. I own the night, I own the moment, I own the words. This is my
diary. I could tell you how happy I was when I knew I passed today. I could tell you how it really didn''t mean much to my parents who were expecting it all along even when I told them I would fail my Micro course. I could tell you about an invitation I got... and invitation I rejected willingly. I could tell you about a guy who claims to be cool, who''s trying to be cool to me... However he remains as simplet as many others whom I got bored of. I could tell you about my first decent diner in 5 months. I could tell you about my clean car, which dad cleaned just for me... But right now I just want to tell you how I love to walk barefoot, how I am barefoot right at this exact moment.
Why do people read my diary eventhough I never tell anyone to do so? Because it goes one way. They wouldn''t worry about what I might reply back, they wouldn''t worry about not being able to keep up. They just read and select whatever information sounds interesting to them, hoping to figure me out better or figure out an entertaining information about my private life. So ironically, I get comments about notes that deal with waxing and orgasms, yet notes that should truly be felt remain untouched virgins. It doesn''t matter really. What matters is how I love to walk barefoot. It gives me a feeling of independence and freedom. Even if I''m not walking, I can feel the earth move beneath my feet when I''m barefoot. I feel I''m naked, even when I''m fully clothed. I feel I''m pure, even if the floor is dirty, eact moment.