I walk through the world with holes in my shoes. Gaping tears through my sole that leave me feeling cold and unwhole. As I travel, I walk with others and over time they leave me. Always I walk alone, even when surrounded by others. Seasons change and so do my socks, but my sole always remains incomplete. Once in a while a leaf will cover the hole and sometimes, during the summer time when the asphalt is hot I can feel warm and happy. Other times however, when the wind blows and the air is chilled, my sole is not whole enough to keep me from feeling discouraged... from doubting weather or not I can finish my walk. Sometimes I have companions who can carry me for part of the way, and boy, do I enjoy leaning on them... But eventually they too must part ways and once again I tread alone. One foot in front of the other. Always looking foward. Past desert and jungle, over mountain and praire, through city and countryside. Always encountering new characters, always leaving behind others... until one day, when I can find someone to fix my shoes, and make me feel whole again.