nothing will ever be as great as this picture of kanye and beyonce playing connect 4
ambedo n. a kind of melacholic trance in which you become completely absorbed in vivid sensory details—raindrops skittering down a window, tall trees leaning in the wind, clouds of cream swirling in your coffee—which leads to a dawning awareness of the haunting fragility of life
- author: she didn't want to eat dinner because she doesn't like chicken noodle soup
- english teacher: even though it doesn't say it, we can infer that 17 years ago she encountered an attack from chickens while on a trip to africa visiting her great aunt who was dying from pneumonia which she got from chickens that were being harvested for the great feast
A haiku about getting out of bed
no no no no no
no no no no no no no
no no no no no
run till your feet don't touch the ground
And you’d come home, tired and beaten and sore and unyielding and irritable and you’d sigh and that sigh would speak a thousand words, the words you couldn’t say. And I’d make sure the electric blanket was up to the right temperature and the television was on the channel you wanted and I’d have a little tray of your favourite foods sitting on the coffee table and I’d tip toe around quietly waiting for you to discover the little note I put on your pillowcase, with all the words I couldn’t say. And you’d crawl into bed and wrap your arms around that pillow and press the note to your mouth and the television screen would flicker in your eyes and you’d pick at the food on the coffee table and look at me standing in the doorway and you’d say “Come here” and I’d crawl in beside you and we’d lie there, not even speaking, because after the day you’d just had, being with each other was enough. And you’d complain that your toast was cold but I’d catch you smiling, and that is what I’d do it all for.
