A Letter From My Sneakers

Dear Boyetus,

Hello.

We’ll skip the initial DRAMA and get straight to the point.

We want to say GOODBYE.

We want to leave our RELATIONSHIP. Our relationship with you.

You and us have been together for almost FOUR YEARS now. It’s been a while but we can still remember your indescribable smile when you grabbed us from the shelf of Happy Feet in SM Manila. Although we could see that you were evidently PLEASED, we knew that you were more delighted because we were ON-SALE that time. Honestly, you granted our yearning to ESCAPE the ledge but it worried us too, for you were NOT GOING HOME WITH US ALONE. That BUY-ONE-TAKE-ONE promo made you pick our RIVALS too: the TOPSIDER duo. the OTHER pair. YOUR other pair.

We used to be jealous of them, especially when you took them to the Red Dot. WE ARE YOUR MAIN KICKS, MAN. YOUR PRIMARY SNEAKERS. The fact that you chose those fusty shoes with foul-smelling insoles made us HATE YOU. Really. But everything’s COOL now. The SPARK came back when you returned wearing your SANDUGO All-Terrain sandals, leaving the Topsiders in your friends’ HDB unit.

Boyetus, we know you LOVE us. You wear us almost ELEVEN HOURS a day. We are like PART of your body and we know you VERY WELL. We know how you walk; how you weakly KICK scattered stones; and how you peevishly step on Periplaneta americana in the sordid street of Magsaysay. We know how you want to look THE SAME everyday and you forever call it CONTINUITY. We know that you don’t WASH your pants because you said DIRTY PANTS look good when paired with DIRTY SHOES. That’s us. We know your BAD TASTE in fashion.

Your short yet WIDE feet fit us very well. I know you found COMFORT from us more than any Chucks and Horse Sneakers can give you. You flatter us.

Remember when you were watching the play Tarzan in the Meralco Theater? You took us off because you want us to REST. Remember when you walked in the RAIN because you wanted to get sick? Oh man, that was DUMB. Our canvasses were WET and your socks were viciously drenched. I know you abhor that feeling but you DIDN’T COMPLAIN. Remember when you slipped while alighting a bus in Shaw Boulevard? You DIDN’T BLAME us. It’s your fucking stupidity anyway.

Remember when you were in U.P. Diliman desperately BEGGING for the bookstore owner to re-open the shop because it was so late and you really wanted that Alex Garland book? You were absurdly HILARIOUS, but after bargaining and got what you wanted, you fetched a cab because you said Sinking Garden is TOO FAR and you didn’t want to WEAR US OFF by walking.

Those small scenarios showed us that you really CARE for us. And WE LOVE YOU for that.

We’ve seen it ALL, Sunshine. We’ve seen how you flirted with the sibak-able women jogging in Rockwell. Man, we couldn’t believe the thought of you exercising in the first place and WE ARE NOT EVEN RUNNING SHOES. We’ve seen how you are POSSESSED with tics and how you cope with it. We’ve seen how you CRY and get ANGRY. We’ve seen how you act like a MAN and how you deal with quandaries immaturely.

We’ve been EVERYWHERE with you. From the office, to remote areas, to motels, to any surface we could imagine. We’ve been through floods, MUD, shit alleys, and even SIMULATED SNOW. The last one was literally COOL and we also wanted to quiver like you, but we are just a piece of rubber and cloth, with dirty black shoe laces and ruined aglets.

We know you are a cheap dick, honey, and you’d rather buy books, greasy cheeseburgers, and cigarettes than to shell out cash for new clothes and kicks. We know about your principles in life. BUT YOU ARE NOT BLIND. Look at us. We’ve been TORN and dilapidated by weather, rodent wanderers, and TIME.

We know it’s hard for you to LET US GO but we think this is all ENOUGH.

It’s DIFFICULT for us to be apart from you and as much as we hate it, we’d like you to REPLACE us.

Boyetus, thank you for everything.

Thank you for the wonderful MEMORIES and the UGLY ones too. Thank you for taking us to GREAT places. Thank you for WASHING us TWICE IN THREE YEARS. We heard it’s a RECORD though it was quite a NASTY ride inside your mother’s spin-dryer. Please don’t do that again in your next pair. By the way, you should have scrubbed us after you tread upon a clump of horse shit in Binondo last month. We APPRECIATE your effort even though you just chafed the green turd in the newly-asphalted side of Sto.Tomas. You are definitely a DIRTY SON-OF-A-GUN.

We know you still have more “VALUABLE” sneakers in the closet that you might wanna wear. Sneakers that are “WORTH KEEPING” than us. We know we are NOT-QUALIFIED to be preserved but please don’t just throw us in the garbage can. BURN us if you will.

Adios amigo.

BoyetusBlogALetterFromMySneakers

Love,

Happy Feet – Pair One

HIT ME

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