Oh. My. GOD. It's starting up again.
When was the last time I moaned about wanting shoes here? I can't remember. It's just been a constant pain in my soul since my dad banned me from buying another pair of shoes (this was way back in January). I thought I'd banished my shoe-lust into its little banished corner--well, after the first few months of anguish anyway. You know. Cold turkey = CRAZED wanting-ness until the initial blaze of withdrawal subsides, and you become human again. Almost. What it is is that you THINK you have gotten over the worst part. But all you've done is you have managed to fool yourself into thinking you may not need/want those babies (whatever they may be--different stroked for different folks!) anymore. You are living in a realm of suspended reality, my friend. The world moves along without your full participation. You think you're all better but you still crave what you used to have access to. You merely got USED to living--EXISTING--in misery. You are not FREED. Eg, recovering alcoholics still feel THIRSTY even though they've been sober for years.
And me. Ah me. A fresh tidal wave of unrelenting, obssessive yearning has crashed upon me. I existed months without another pair of shoes--heels, to be precise--and now I have arrived at yet another tsunami of mad-eyed, shaky-handed need, of panicked, willing-to-kill desperation.
I no longer have even a vague idea of what shoes I want. I have disallowed myself from fantasising about them for so long that now, all I want is SHOES. period. ANY AND ALL SHOES. Something to adorn my feet, elongate my legs, match individual outfits, give me a strut, make me go "Ooooh."
GAHHHH!
I must hold on. I must not give in.
At least not until I get my first bloody paycheck.
...And if The Father tries to intervene, so help me god, there shall be bloodshed.
