The technology in my art history class has failed. We’re all just sitting here waiting for a tech who may or may not materialize and attempt to fix it. I could’ve been reading had I brought my novel with me.
- mom: honey why do you stay up so late
- me: because sometimes Beyoncé releases raNDOM SHIT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT AND I HAVE TO BE PREPARED FOR THAT
I’m having unholy, carnal thoughts.
Let me taste the grape’s nectar of your tongue
From the fingers whose lips you’ve touched have fed
Nurture my ravenous hunger
Suckle your sin from mine mouth
Let me bathe in your sweat
Let it infiltrate every ridge of my skin
Let me surrender to you.
There’s absolutely nothing better than when someone compliments your writing. Especially when you’re told it’s beautiful.
It truly means a lot to me. Particularly when it comes from someone who is grading you on it.
I was at The Last Bookstore on Saturday, and this lady had a cute dog with her. The dog got excited as I was about to walk by so her owner told the dog to “stay”. I thought perhaps the dog wasn’t as friendly as it looked so I asked her, “Should I not go through here?” To which she replied, “I was talking to my dog. She is overly excited.” Bless her soul. The lady thought that I believed she was telling me to stay.