🫖 I don’t know whether to say I can’t believe I’ve been doing this for half a year, or I can’t believe I’ve ONLY been doing this for half a year. As much as I drag my feet and bitch and moan about “toiling” at the hands of my newsletter, I also fucking love it. Thank you x 1,000 for being part of this journey. If you like what I’m doing, consider investing in my work by upgrading to a paid subscription. It makes this project worthwhile AND comes with the promise of some extra treats coming your way. I unlocked my lastest tsundoku column to give you a taste of the benefits of a paid subscription. Kisses! 🫖
do you know where to go?
I sometimes can’t believe the words that come out of my mouth. I hate that such a spiritually depleting term as “Sunday Scaries” has passed my lips, even if it captures something real. I imagine a time when every piece of life wasn’t cut up and segmented and categorized into girlboss buzzfeed tiktok yassqueen clickbait. I have a friend who sends me the same type of snapchat every single day of the week. Monday grind. Tuesday vibes. Hump Day. Friday Junior. TGIF. Saturyay. Sunday Walk of Shame. The dizzying cycle repeats.
the beer I had for breakfast
We’ll do away with ugly labels. We’ll escape the factory with ash on our palms. We’ll run with reckless abandon and the wet grass under our feet will make our ankles itch. We won’t hear the bells telling us when it’s time for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. We’ll eat when we’re hungry. Every day will be beautiful. We will realize that the days don’t need to be named for gods we don’t believe in. They don’t need names at all so we cut ties and each day is distinguished for not being night. Yes, it could be argued that the world of unnamed days is flatter, but it’s richer too. An escape from meagerness, from making meaning of rags and bones.
better get it off your chest
//
On the seventh day, you rest.
trudging back over pebbles and sand
[Post by the incomparable Leenah 🤍 @daddiedenim / @orientalotherwoman]
I wore a long red coat and red lipstick and a pearl necklace. A man asked me if I was in a play. What? No. That doesn’t even make any sense. If I was in a play, why would I be wearing my costume for the rest of the day?
watch out the world’s behind you
Autumn is the Sunday of seasons. The drink before the war. It is hard to anchor yourself in the present moment, in the falling of the leaves, with the apprehension of the coming world where all the leaves have fallen. It is the blight man was born for. It is Margaret you mourn for.
5 songs for Sunday
Delightfully on the nose. This assignment was too easy. Here are some of my favorite songs about Sunday. My extra-clever Tea drinkers may have noticed that each title in the previous section was a lyric from each respective song.
“Sunday,” The Cranberries
“Sunday Morning Coming Down - Live,” Johnny Cash
“Sunday’s Best,” Elvis Costello
“Everyday is Like Sunday,” Morrissey
“Sunday Morning,” The Velvet Underground
🫖 That’s all I have for you today. Happy Halloween to those who celebrate. Take a little time to talk to your ancestors. 🫖
Stellar Songs, as usual....