Wednesday, June 11, 2003
My Shoes Smell Vaguely of Death
Maybe not death exactly, to be frank, but it's definitely not a living smell. And it's not particularly vague, either. Anyone smelling my shoes would notice the smell without much difficulty. Not that people are smelling my shoes - I hope. Because if they were . . . there goes my social life. HAHAHA. But seriously.
The smell is like concrete dust. Not a big surprise. I've been walking all around the center of Philadelphia for over a month now. Through construction areas, occasionally. And I only wear one pair of shoes. They're not very good shoes. But they're all I have. Why don't I have new shoes? I'm trying to undergo a fashion transformation, away from sheer, unmitigated laziness onto having some vague sense of style. I should get new shoes that fit this. But how? I need to belong to a specific social group, so that I can adapt to their norms. "Punks wear that sort of shoe? Wow! That is so much easier than making up my mind!"
Maybe not death exactly, to be frank, but it's definitely not a living smell. And it's not particularly vague, either. Anyone smelling my shoes would notice the smell without much difficulty. Not that people are smelling my shoes - I hope. Because if they were . . . there goes my social life. HAHAHA. But seriously.
The smell is like concrete dust. Not a big surprise. I've been walking all around the center of Philadelphia for over a month now. Through construction areas, occasionally. And I only wear one pair of shoes. They're not very good shoes. But they're all I have. Why don't I have new shoes? I'm trying to undergo a fashion transformation, away from sheer, unmitigated laziness onto having some vague sense of style. I should get new shoes that fit this. But how? I need to belong to a specific social group, so that I can adapt to their norms. "Punks wear that sort of shoe? Wow! That is so much easier than making up my mind!"