As political leaders proclaim themselves to be Jesus Christ and deepfake AI images become more and more inescapable, it can feel as though our world is more absurd than ever. How are students–who are still in the process of figuring out who they are–supposed to come into their own in a world that seems to have flipped upside down?
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I may not say much…Yet my heart aches when you are not nearyour love engraved in mine, my mistakes in yours.Though I wish it to be undone, my fangs have bornemarkings too deep for you to heal. I wish I could be better for you…For us…I may not say much…but I know you feel it too—my heart strings wrapped around youFrom every…
The proverb “心中栽下青翠树, 自有鸣鸟来驻唱” (xīn zhōng zāi xià qīng cuì shù, zì yǒu míng niǎo lái zhù chàng) translates to “plant a verdant tree within your heart, and songbirds will naturally come to perch and sing”. As melodies grace the wind, the verdant tree flourishes to symbolize the filling gaps in an inexperienced individual: the same child without a clue of judgment,…
My fingertips were sore as I yanked out stubborn weeds from the soil. The sun pressed down like a burning campfire. I wiped a pool of sweat that had gathered above my lip, looking down at my garden. I could never get it to look like Mami’s garden in Sinaloa. Hers was filled with mangos and oranges, alive in a way that…
I stand at the loom of life and unspool my own dream-thread,waving from it a chrysalis to serve as my deathbed. I live a life minute within a minute mortal world,see it from a throne of sinew, nerves and skin unfurled. I judge the seedling flower by my predictions of its hue, and exist upon its petals in a drop of morning…
Oh, the craze, they say.Oh, the craze, they shout.Oh, the craze, they crumble. What is life in a world that spins?Can we stop to breathe when we simply keep turning?Sometimes faster, sometimes slower, like a ballerinadrilling a hole into the stage,we do pirouette after pirouettewithout true end. The spotlight is a blinding eye,pinning us to a floor that is no longer there.We…
I got off the train at the Riverdale station, where I began to walk.I walked far into the woods, where the train tracks ran.A woman saw me, and she asked if I knew a placeI told her no, but then she told me a bit about her lifeI really didn’t care much, but I didn’t feel like being rudeSo I listened.And listened.…
Nowadays, there is something strangely performative about how people build themselves. I don’t mean this in the obvious sense of social media — though that is part of it — but more in the way that identity itself is starting to feel like something assembled with a subtle awareness of being watched. Identity is usually described as something discovered, something that becomes…
