Death of the Jeans

I'm here to mourn for the loss of my beloved pair of jeans and the embarrassment I endured without even realising about it.

To cut the story short, woke up late this morning thanks to 9am class.

Grabbed my pair of jeans...

and got the shock of my life.

There was a large hole somewhere...where it isn't supposed to be.

It's funny because it's weird. And it's sad because I think it's funny and sad at the same time. And it's embarrassing but I just don't know why am I telling the whole wide world about it. 

Maybe I just don't have any better stories to tell.

To be honest, first thing that came into my mind was "oh no, how am I going to live without a pair of jeans?" Ugly truth: It's my only pair of jeans that I brought here, and I'm going back in 4 months to come. 

People can easily say "go buy lah!" but here's my theory:

Jeans are like boyfriends. It's hard to search for one that really suits you.

(I don't know why I keep on referring to stuffs as 'boyfirends' lately).

Jeans are either too tight, or too low-cut, or too ugly in colour (and the list goes on for a choosy person like me).

So I regret for saying a thing to my jeans that I never fulfilled - "The weather is so hot, I should have washed my jeans".

Sadly, I only realised that the second truth was uglier. I was walking around in a koyak paired of jeans yesterday. I DON'T EVEN WANT TO KNOW WHO SAW ME D=

Rest in Peace inside my locker, oh you pair of jeans.

199*-2012.