So there I was, sitting in class, bored as always...

The only color in the room aside from the white walls and ceiling was the carpet—speckled browns and yellows, like the soft sand at the Lake. The lecture my teacher was rambling off for the fifty-second time turned into constant rolling of air, pushing the clear teal of the water into my feet. The one-size-fits-all desk become a red and white beach towel where I lay as the florescent lights above my head sent their simmering rays of golden sunlight into my hair, warming it around my face. Yes, the class was boring but my mind is not.

What is Love Not?

Love is like a basketball, sometimes you dunk and sometimes you fall.

Love is like a hot air balloon, flying high, feeling like a goon.

Love is like a steel bar, holding you down in a jar.

Love is like a rainbow, clean and pure and white.

Love is like toaster. Pop! goes my heart over the bumps and hills of a roller coaster.

Love is like a salad. Don’t forget the dressing to make it valid.

Love is like a cell phone, sometimes only a small time loan.

Love is a witness to your physical fitness.

Love is sturdy, sometimes too wordy but always a little bit nerdy.

Love is like Pop Rocks, never settling, always jumping about like stocks.

Love is like a good book; whole up in a good crook of the living room, you have to take a look.

Love is like a rocking chair—steady and comfortable, always there.

Love is never unfair, just remember reasonable care.

Love is robust, always willing to readjust.

Love is like fake eyelashes; sometimes it just clashes.

Love is like dancing, you look good while you feel as though you’re prancing.