no discourse without disco
let's dance
this week’s Thought (singular)
i thought touching grass was just a meme until i touched grass. social media doesn’t exist once you’ve touched grass. grass is great.
hi
tiny griefs are what i’m thinking about.
desired flavour of ice-cream was out of stock. was the first person to arrive for a social engagement and had to hang around and wait. missed the train by a few seconds, realised you couldn’t work on the bed because the laptop was out of charge and the cord was too short, favourite pair of shorts was in the wash, too many mosquitos but the odomos was just out of reach, dried up nail polish, too-sunny weather, out-of-tune guitar, fallen bookmark.
itty-bitty inconveniences that have zero long-term consequences. tiny griefs.
re: aqua consumption hypothesis from last week - pleased to inform you all that i have become a consistent water-drinker.
English Recitation Competition
What I Learned From the Incredible Hulk, Aimee Nezhukumatathil
And sometimes, a woman gets to go with him, her tiny hands correcting his rumpled hair, the cuts in his hand. Green is the space between water and sun, cover for a quiet man, each rib shuttling drops of liquid light.
Contact Zone, Imaikalani Kalahele
Contact That’s when two stuff Touch, yeah? Just like when the tides come in And touch the shores Bringing what it will.
Instead, curl your toes into the grass, watch the cloud ascending from your lips. Walk through the garden’s dormant splendor. Say only, thank you. Thank you.
Middle School Book Review
The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern
how does a single book manage to have a supremely complex and creative premise, absolutely gorgeous descriptions, and such subtle characterisation and unwritten implications? in the same league of fantasy novels as Maggie Stiefvater and Leigh Bardugo.
The Good Side of the Internet
‘Small Kindnesses’: A Collaborative Poem by Teenagers From Around the World
After more than 1,300 teenagers told us about the small kindnesses they appreciate, the poet Danusha Laméris wove their answers into verse.
Time has been doing strange things lately — things it’s always done. Moving slowly, looping around, flying by. We invited 9 artists and creators whose practices include time-based works, to make works on time in this time. To shine a little light on, and help us make our own sense of, time in a year that has gone by many names.
The Pen, the Throat, the Ear: On Ghazals
I joke often that poetry was a choice made for me, not by me. My parents bound me to this path when they gave me Ghazal as a middle name. What else to call this if not providence, or predestination? They considered making ghazal my first name, but as new immigrants with strong names of their own, they worried a name so guttural would be massacred in anglophone mouths. They were right—to this day, I am constantly correcting mispronunciations: no, not huzzle, guzzle, guh-zal, or gauze-el.
this week’s Song
thank you for reading, and see you next week <3