Endless Summer

I've been experiencing a lull in dynamite blog material later (and let me tell you, we accept nothing less than premium grade TNT on this particular web-log), so I decided to dip into the vaults of solid gold material I have laying around. Because everyone knows the sign of a thriving artist is the rehashing and reuse of old ideas.

So here's the story: I got a dumb chain email from somebody (the first block of text below), and it was so dumb that I, being an unbearable smartass, had to write a reply even though no one would ever see it. But then there were blogs! So now, I release to you the original message and the constant_k response, available for the first time to the general public.


Love is a slow kiss goodnight.
It is anticipation.
Love is an imperfection in yourself not bothering you.
It is acceptance.
Love is passing up an opportunity because the time isn’t right yet.
It is patience.
Love is a back massage that starts above the hairline and ends around the innersoles.
It is exploration.
Love is not having to say, "Let’s make love", because you know what the other person wants.
It is understanding.
It is consideration.
Love is both of you remembering protection.
It is responsibility.
Love is saying the perfect phrase to make a solemn embrace dissolve into giggles.
It is humor.
Love is reviewing the damage to your living room and realizing personal effects are strewn in a clockwise pattern from the front door to the bedroom.
It is desire.
Love is seeing what your lover really looks like for the first time.
It is truth.
Love is knowing what time it is and not caring.
It is joy.
Love is the arms around you tightening their embrace.
It is ecstasy.
Love is seeing a new side of a person you thought you knew.
It is renewal.
Love is telling a person if you have to leave, you will let them sleep, and being told they would rather be awakened.
It is tenderness.
Love is waking up to find the subject of the dream you were having asleep on your shoulder.
It is where fantasy meets reality.
Love is being there to wake your lover. Slowly.
It is sensuousness.
Love is belatedly knowing why you bothered to buy a queen size bed three years ago.
It is practicality.
Love is two people only taking up a third of a queen size bed.
It is closeness.
Love is knowing you gave the extra set of keys to the right person.
It is trust.
Love is saying goodbye and knowing you will be back by mutual consent.
It is faith.
Love is stretching your arms and discovering the real meaning of the word "sore".
It is a lesson in human frailty.
Love is opening your medicine cabinet and finding your toothpaste turned into a pretzel.
It is adaptation.
Love is sitting at the window, looking out and remembering who you were the night before.
It is reflection.
Love is hearing the weather forecast for a winter storm and wishing you could spend it in bed with your lover.
It is loneliness.
Love is stories that will never be told.
It is personal.

Love is a slow kiss goodnight.

Love is a long, sappy, impersonal chain email.
It is annoying.
Love is flossing until your gums bleed.
It is gross.
Love is another saturday night with your parents.
It is pathetic. Love is a misguided mixtape.
It is rejection.
Love is a web of desperate lies.
It is deception.
Love is heavy breathing over the phone.
It is creepy.
Love is losing old friends.
It is sad.

Love is a long, sappy, impersonal chain email.