Functional elastic waistband replacement
has taken the sweatpant market by storm,
just as those most forward-thinking
tastemakers and trendsetters predicted
as far back as a full generation ago.
Here’s the long and short of it:
You’re the kind of person who very much enjoys
the comfort and functionality of a sweatpant,
to the point where your favorite pair (they
don’t make ’em quite like that anymore)
requires a new waistband after only
moderate garmential utilization.
Rather than fretting and tossing
those pants you know and love
(within whose bounds you formed
the most lasting memories of your entire lifetime),
you simply dip into your junk drawer
for a length of replacement elastic
and doctor up those trousers all on your own!
Replacement elastics are sold by the foot
(or in fractions of feet, for the real weirdos out there),
with a competitive price drop if you order it
by the spool.
Fully engrossed in the 21st Century, we believe
it’s our duty to turn that dream
of on-demand, taut-yet-comfortable waistbands
into a reality that we modern world citizens
take for granted, like the internet
or patent leather galoshes.
Disclaimer: due to the sheer number
of semi-literate individuals asking if we
provide discounts for people ordering their elastics
“by the pool”, we have discontinued
poolside delivery of our fine product line.
We come upon a young man torn between what he perceives of “the other” and that omniscient narrator of life who’s commonly referred to as Reality, the amalgamation of infinite facets colliding into an image of total clarity, the entire spectrum condensing itself into a single voice and vision suitable to whichever moment or viewpoint happens to summon it for selfish purposes. Our hero simply needs more time before he may contemplate the oneness of totality, the complete integration of energy and matter that, on the surface, fragments into a myriad of complex differences but ultimately bleeds into homogeneity across the board, across the cosmos. Our hero will learn all this in the next unit of his “Philosophy of Everything” course, assuming he does all the readings and attends every lecture (which has a very low chance of actually occurring, rendering his education on the topic woefully incomplete).
This particular person will–in 98.3% of all observable realities–stubbornly quit his pursuit of higher education and become a beekeeper, so he may develop an immunity to their stings.
I leapt through a series of otherwise meaningless hoops (bald, scorpion, mating ritual-oriented, etc.) before I could contextualize what the hell my actions even meant to me and to those within my immediate surroundings. And do you know what I discovered? You’ll be surprised to learn that absolutely nothing could have been derived from those actions aside from pain and rather tedious boredom! No matter how many labels I ascribed to my life, I still longed for the time where everything was laid out before me in ribbons, streaking across the sky and peppering my vision like pigeons flying above the public library (only pooping periodically, and never on the periodicals), laying my track before me. I had once been content to wander and follow the striped ground, but then the stripes grew apart and I could no longer passively traipse through my existence. It had become clear that I needed to select a distinct path, and I splintered my psyche into several different chords (audibly restless, confused and frustrated). My body grew apart from my mind and I lost that once common-sense connection that allowed me to exist in the same space as others of my species.
And now I wait for my paths to converge once more, so I may mend my fragmented soul and take part in that wholesale charade that most humans call real life.