You learned to walk when you were ten months old. When four years had gone since that day, you broke both your legs. You learned to walk with those legs once more, and you learned too fast so you lost them. You learned to walk with fake legs, and they made you short. You saved up till you could pay for a new real pair, out of flesh. They made you tall ‘cuz you asked for that.
And soon, age will grab hold of you too, and you will learn to walk the stomp-stomp of those who lose their minds.