Wednesday, July 1, 2009

On Kissing and Sleep

It can be an aggravating species, I’ll give you that.

As a collective we truly are a disaster for this world.

It’s easy to condemn the cloaked man with ice in his heart who is responsible for all of this destruction. To be angry with nasty, self-involved humanity.

Yeah it’s quite simple to be down on people as long as you don’t think about how cute we can be as individuals.

It becomes a much less manageable task to loathe this parasite when you consider that the darling act of kissing is universally valued.

That just about everyone agrees that lying on a soft surface nose to nose with someone else and smooshing lips together with closed eyes is a fantastic thing to do.

That our adorable way of putting a sealed stamp on our attraction to one another is with a wet smack from the kisser.

And the whole idea of requiring sleep is pretty damn precious as well.

Even the cloaked man needs to rest after a long day of malice.

We dedicate the majority of the rooms in our homes to sleeping.

And you’re damned right we want to be comfortable when we do it. A big, squishy rectangle placed right in the center of your room covered in cozy and cuddleable objects.

Or there you are sitting around the campfire for warmth and song, and as the stars descend a little lower, the woodpile thins, the cold settles on the back of your neck,

you all one by one slink off into the darkness to that little spot of ground you cleared for yourself where you heavily collapse and lay still, breathing hard for eight quiet hours.

We really are pretty sweet, despite our killing ways, so tomorrow morning after we rise from our glorious slumber, how about a little making out before we burn down that rainforest over there?

June 2009
Lagunitas, CA

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