jeans.

jeans- the paramount pinnacle of everday fashion.

a pair of pants that can fit the category of grungy, sexy, casual, or chic- depending on the length, style, material or fit. chances are, sitting with a group of friends, that at least two of them will be wearing jeans. no thought goes into wearing them really- you're going out and you put them on.

the issue for me when it comes to jeans is comfortability.

"well, evan," you may exclaim, "comfortability is Not a word!" to which i will non-confrontationally reply, "point being-" you may then exclaim (again, since you are by this time certainly riled up about being so harshly corrected), "what on earth are you talking about?" to which i will again non-confrontationally reply (since it's hard to be confrontational when you aren't sure if people read your blog), "why don't you just read, instead of asking so many questions?" which is my own way of answering your question with another, vastly superior one.


comfortablity [kuhm-fer-tuh-bil-i-tee] - noun

1. an object's level of comfort - usually used in reference to jeans.


jeans are, in a purely objective matter of speaking, more comfortable once they have been worn in. the wearing in process consists of the jeans, surprisingly enough, being worn. this process can take from any time between one to two years, depending on the overall activity of the user and the duration of time the jeans are worn.

but now i'm getting sidetracked. as i was saying, back in paragraph three, and, i will directly quote myself, "the issue for me when it comes to jeans is comfortability." allow me now to explain where i am coming from.

let us say that you, the reader has two pairs of jeans. this is of course entirely likely, as i am hoping you are teenager of similar age and viewpoint, and not some creepy, pedophilic old man. let us say, again, very assumedly, that one pair is old (and worn), and the other new. now i need not go into more lines explaining that, of course, the old pair is vastly superior in comfortability to the new pair. now what pair, logically, would you, the reader, wear? the old ones of course. no average, everyday teenager wakes up in the morning and thinks to themselves, "i have two pairs of jeans. one is new, and the other old. i think i shall wear the old ones to wear them in. thus resulting in gaining myself two, count them, two, pairs of comfortable, worn jeans." this does not happen. the teenager wakes up, showers and stuff, and then pulls on the old pair, because he, or she, does not feel like putting on a new, uncomfortable pair of jeans when another, way comfier pair of jeans is there.

suffice to say, it's a sorry, sorrowful cycle we're stuck in. and honestly, there is no easy way out of it. there are countless solutions- though none of them logically viable. you could rent your jeans out to another to wear in (or out), or you could spend more of your hard-earned, exceedingly precious money on jeans that have already been worn in, or you could, heaven forbid, wear that new pair of jeans every now and then.

i have laid out the facts. it is now up to you, the hopefully teenage and not pedophilic reader, to make your decision. will you opt to stay in this somewhat inescapable cycle, or will you do the unthinkable, and wear those new jeans?

friday evening.

the fading sun
shines right into our eyes
and at the back of your neck,
which is still slightly damp from the washing.
the candle, the bread, and the bottle of water
sit in the still, solemn grass,
as scripture is read aloud,
and prayers said.

faux real.

authenticity-
is eluding me.

he wrote-

he wrote in the soft, warm, golden sand-

laughing youths smashed the words with their vigor and joy.

he wrote in the cool, moist grey mud-

lapping waves smeared the words slowly and meticulously.

he wrote in the consistent shimmering surf-

water pulsed in and around and held nothing.

he wrote in the dry, frigid air-

whispering winds breathed away the letters.

he wrote in his head-

engraved in the grey matter the story stayed.

the writer's back.

the writer's back;

with a slouch in his shoulders,

and a drag in his step;

a tear in his eye,

and a spark in his head.

the writer's back.