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Looks like @staff mistakenly censored this comic, which is an ironic and very funny thing to happen

I usually tell my students that “close reading” means looking at what is actually on the page, reading the text itself, rather than some idea “behind the text.” It means noticing things in the writing, things in the writing that stand out. To give you some idea of what this means, I’ve made up a list of five sorts of things that a close reading might typically notice: (1) unusual vocabulary, words that surprise either because they are unfamiliar or because they seem to belong to a different context; (2) words that seem unnecessarily repeated, as if the word keeps insisting on being written; (3) images or metaphors, especially ones that are used repeatedly and are somewhat surprising given the context; (4) what is in italics or parentheses; and (5) footnotes that seem too long. This list is far from complete—in fact, no complete list is possible—but the list is meant to begin to give you an idea of what sorts of things we notice when we’re doing close reading.

This doesn’t include the best bit of the whole thing - she found the Twitter thread!

This is like one of those romance novels where people bond over accidentally writing each other emails but better.

I actually love how this whole confession scene played out. Charles isn't saying "I don’t feel the same way." He's saying "I feel so much for you and I love you in so many ways that I don't know if one of those ways is romantic but that's ok because I will never leave you and we have time to figure out what love between us can look like."

I’ll cry if I think about them for too long but you’re Charles Rowland you’re a biracial punk and you’ve been getting the shit kicked out of you by your father your entire life but you see a Pakistani kid getting beat for being Pakistani and you can’t help it, you’re afraid but you stop it. You’re half Indian why are you any different? The racist little white boys agree. They beat you too. You make it away. You’re cold, so cold and something’s very wrong with you, and then you see a light. But you’re not dead. It’s another boy your age and he tells you he’s dead. He died in this same shitty boarding school and he reads you a bedtime story as you fall asleep. You’re dead now and he’s still here. He knew you were dying and he didn’t want you to be scared. He crawled out of Hell and the first thing he did was comfort you as you lay dying.