“I keep staring at the pile of my pants next to my Ikea chair… they look like my life right now: sturdy Levi’s, not yet completely broken in, cheap brown belt that’s put in way more time than it should have… the whole thing at the same time awkward and graceful, leaning and bundled and thrown and drifted down into something comfortable looking. Zipper splayed open, pockets full of technology and loose change and receipts I hope my wife doesn’t find… These pants represent me, they’re the introduction. They’re not broken in yet… like me: a young guy, newly whispered into the right way to do this dad and husband thing. They’re blue, like me… you know, deep and shit.”
I wrote this while a little heady off some Fernet… Thought it needed to live somewhere – so, here it is.
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