Guys, who am I kidding? What else has there even been on the internet this week except Beyonce?
Nothing. That's what.
Now you're going to need to either download Tidal or buy on iTunes, but here's a start for you.
"He Better call Becky with the good hair" - Beyoncé#holdup #beyhive #lemonade #sorryhttps://t.co/0btHa5Z6lx— BeyHive Daily (@BeyHiveMore) April 24, 2016
I could talk about this visual album all day long. It is really worth your time to find the hour to watch the whole thing from start to finish. The music is woven together with spoken poetry, against a backdrop of some of the most beautiful scenes. I have screenshot it so many times, just so I can stare a little longer at that expression, or those shadows, or that colour palette.
Lyrically, it is powerful and vulnerable, raw honesty mixed with pure agression. A bleeding heart. When do we get to see women like this? Joyful in their destruction, bleeding on the floor at the hands of emotional turmoil, defiant and strong and tired and hopelessy devoted? Not enough. Maybe not ever, like this.
Constantly aware of it all
My lonely ear
Pressed against the walls of your world
Who the fuck do you think I is?
You ain't married to no average bitch boy
You can watch my fat ass twist boy
As I bounce to the next dick boy
Middle fingers up, put them hands high
Wave it in his face, tell him, boy, bye
True love breathes salvation back into me
With every tear came redemption
And my torturer became a remedy
Tell me, what did I do wrong?
Oh, already asked that, my bad
But you my lifeline, think you tryna kill me?
And we can't talk about Lemonade without talking about Warsan Shire. Her poetry is the most sublime undercurrent, pulsing throughout like a heartbeat.
Warsan Shire - "For Women Who Are Difficult To Love" from MovingOn on Vimeo.
"So what are you going to say at my funeral now that you've killed me? Here lies the body of the love of my life whose heart I broke without a gun to my head. Here lies the mother of my children both living and dead. Rest in peace, my true love, who I took for granted."
"You remind me of my father, a magician… able to exist in two places at once. In the tradition of men in my blood, you come home at 3 a.m. and lie to me. What are you hiding? The past and the future merge to meet us here. What luck. What a f--king curse."
"I tried to change, closed my mouth more, tried to be softer, prettier, less awake. Fasted for 60 days, wore white, abstained from mirrors, abstained from sex, slowly did not speak another word… I grew thickened skin on my feet I bathed in bleach and plugged my menses with pages from the holy book, but still inside me, coiled deep, was the need to know…are you cheating on me?"Sign up for my #lemonade support group in the comments.