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Editor’s Letter. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 5 Into The Woods . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 7 Haunted . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 13 Rocky!. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 15 Afternoon Witchery. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 21 Symposium . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 25 Cross My Heart. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 27 Permanent Ink . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 35 Natalia Orasanin. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 37 Queen Of Cards. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 38

An Interview With Ceedling. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 43 Night Time, My Time . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 47 Kissing . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 52 East End Coven. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 53 Haunted City. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 59 Moonlight, My Old Friend. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 63

Hannah Clark. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 64 Souls . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 65

Halloween isn’t too much of a big thing in England, but I love it all the same. There’s something so nostalgic about it and I feel like no matter whether I am an adult in the eyes of the law or not, I will always get excited. Even with Halloween not being celebrated as hugely here, October definitely still has a certain eeriness to it; the ghost of summer is just about lingering as the nights grow longer and colder. It’s more of a comforting eeriness though, one that we’re all used to and reminds us of when we would explode from excitement and excessive E-numbers. This issue is mostly images and poetry, and I feel that we have collectively created a new take on the haunted vibe; one with heartbreak and friendship and lots of teen witchery. I’m excited to give this Halloween present to you, I can only hope it gets you in the mood to watch Hocus Pocus with a giant bag of candy corn as well as inspiring you to do creative things.


Listen to our Halloween mix here!


Haunted: I reach to touch

your body but it is an empty seashell. I miss you, even as I hold you in my arms. The corpse of my failure floats to the ceiling while my fingers still clutch this sinewy echo filling our nest. I’m so childish, hoping time will heal our trust next season. Secretly, even I know my wish is made of hollow bones.


Drunk-texting on Halloween: She wears a mask and I wear a cloak just for her, with glass beads swirling down the side. I touch her cold plastic lips

unyielding Give me your hand I’ll guard the secrets your body won’t tell I see how she’s trapped inside her own phantom shadow games limp excuses yet her round soul peeks through those naked eyes. If you let me be for you and you for me then I’ll admit how much I love you. She still wearing her list of conditions

the one we’ve gathered over the years. So I won’t tell her the truth until the wine kicks in.

Poetry by Leigh Cuen, photo by Justine



Symposium heart / soul; (split and in unison again)

our spirits play peek-a-boo with each other in each life 
and we keep peeking (,peaking)

and here we are still hiding

(don’t worry, i see you, i am here.)

we can keep playing 
with our eyes open


The self as process Seeds of the cocoon; (light making its way through the hole in the darkness.)

Aliveness coming to through growth and decay, with this sprouting blossoming shedding withering away // repeat

Ode to new moons; though I appear to be in waning, I am illuminating myself on the other side.

Jamie Oliveira

Photo by Mol Mir


permanent ink

I am as real as a ghost as red as the moon, green like jealous, cold and cruel. A slave to his touch, the senses I crave to lose paralysed under the candlelight hungry for his smile. I turned him into metaphors and he cut me like a rose. I smile at 4am when my mind goes numb. I need to wash away any last remains but he marked my skin in permanent ink.


Ghosts Who Need Company Your dreams are crimson to me. Your laugh was like a thousand seas crashing on the shore. I just never knew who for. You danced like the world was burning, we closed our curtains and I slept in your mind. I never wanted to leave that behind. My feelings tag along like ghosts who need company. I just wish that could be you and me.

Veena Chandar





Okay first off let’s start with the basics: how old are you and what do you do?


I’m turning 23 in a few days; I’m a masters student studying philosophy and a feminist blogger and vlogger!

Why did you originally start blogging? I’ve always kept collections of images that I found aesthetically pleasing or motivating, before blogging they just occupied a folder on my old desktop computer. When I started university, I thought I’d give blogging a go mostly as a way to compile images I liked and eventually I started adding my thoughts to the mix. Do you find people treat your opinions differently when they know you’re a blogger? I don’t think so. I don’t go around telling everyone I meet that I have a blog, but I also think that these days almost everyone is a blogger and it would be silly for anyone to let that influence the way they treat someone’s opinions. The internet is such an influential thing, do you think it is generally having a good influence on teenage girls? Yes. I do. I think having access to more diverse media and influences is always a good thing

for young people, especially girls. The internet has dark sides but it also offers perspectives that simply are not available through mainstream media and school curriculums. One doesn’t have to believe everything they read online for it to open their mind. What inspired you to start being open about your anxiety online and what was the initial reaction to it? I was speaking a lot about feminism and makeup and style, things that interest me but (especially at the time) I didn’t know all that much about. I can speak from years of experience with debilitating anxiety. I’m lucky enough to have been raised by parents who are incredibly supportive of my struggles with anxiety, which allowed me to become open about them. The initial and continued reaction has been overwhelmingly positive. I would urge anyone struggling with anxiety to reach out and talk to someone they know or to the online community because there are so many people feeling the same way. It was really comforting to find those people and to potentially

make them feel less alone, as they did for me. There’s this horrible in between when it comes to mixing anxiety and activism, because on one hand you want your voice to be heard from the rooftops, but on the other you’re too scared to say anything at all. How did you manage to speak out about issues whilst battling anxiety?

You said you’ve recently moved countries, what has been the scariest thing about that?

Being away from my comfort zone. Not having my cat, my family, my friends, and starting at a new university while still trying to make sure I eat and sleep enough, it’s overwhelming. It’s also scary when I feel my lowest, not to have the same coping mechanisms in place (I would usually pet my cat when It’s definitely a struggle. I find that “I tried out the feminist I’m having bad as long as I believe kill-joy costume a while anxiety but I could not bring wholeheartedly in back and I’m still wear- her with me). I what I’m speaking ing it. It fits me quite think ultimately about, and I’m confiit will be good for dent that what I’m nicely.” me to learn that I saying is true, it can handle this experience, matters, and it improves upon and can create new coping the silence, I find the courage mechanisms and come out of somewhere. It’s also imit stronger and more confiportant to remember that evedent. At least I hope that’s ryone makes mistakes; everywhat happens! one says things they disagree with later on. We are all navigating our own thoughts and experiences and sometimes the best way to make sense of them is to try them out. I tried out the feminist kill-joy costume a while back and I’m still wearing it. It fits me quite nicely.

The internet is somewhat of a faceless medium, therefore there isn’t much of a connection between the thing written on the internet and the actual human being behind it, so I think a lot of people assume that your opinions differ online than they do

in real life. Do you think it’s hard to be as enthusiastic about an issue in the real world as it is in the internet world? I think it’s different to be enthusiastic about issues in the real world as it is on the internet. I think it involves more action, more confidence, and usually more help from other people. Activism exists mainly outside the internet, though, so I would urge online feminists to find local events and organizations to get involved with. It’s a fulfilling way to bring your opinions out of the internet and into the world and meet likeminded people while you do it. As a philosophy student, in what way (if any) have your philosophy studies influenced your feminism? Philosophy has made me more logical, more argumentative; philosophy also continues to open my mind to new questions about the nature of things we take for granted – like sex and gender – and has forced me to consider the ethics behind them. I owe a lot of my feminist thought to philosophical reasoning, especially ethics. You do a lot of photography work too, what

started your interest in photography? I have no idea what started my interest. I guess I must have always had a desire to capture moments in memory, and photography is a way of doing that for me. You have quite a recognisable style, do you think that comes through in your photos? I’m not sure. I think style is fluent and changing – mine certainly is. I hope what comes through in my photos is the moment in time that I took it. Style is always more recognizable from a distance, I think. And finally, what is one piece of advice you would like to give to teenagers? Don’t worry about contradicting yourself, be whoever you want to be. Learn from everything; remember that everything is temporary including heartbreak. Celia Edell blogs here and Youtubes here Illustrations by Olivia (Venus and cursor by Beth)





KISSING ADRIENNE ARCILLA Why does kissing taste so weird? My head used to spin and I’d float in the air

But, this weirdo just did not care... & it all feels tainted – kissing, frenching, making out everything sucks & I just wanted a fuck But I could not stop thinking of you I couldn’t even French & for a week, I could only clench my chest so tightly Cus I couldn’t feel empty of you Everything sucks and i feel so blue & I can’t stop shaking from not being empty of you kissing only reminded me & I’ll never feel new & even when I lay in my bed or drive down a road relieved @ the lack of you in my life nothing stays put & I hold myself so tight

Because whenever wherever however I die Before my last breath, my last ever view Will be some haunted, glorified image of you

Photo by Christian





Moonlight, My Old Friend I saw you with tangled locks, who looks wide-eyed Rheumy, back through the glass at nightfall, move Your devil eyes towards the day Which rejoices with its approach, shrink away! The voices spit together, and the stabbing Feelings listen; all senses turned Inwards to the bleak emptiness; come forth The gothic butterflies of my soul! Come over the sea, and let my heart Meet your mind, and kiss it softly, Quickly, until the evening breathes Its rough, sharp breath down my icy neck O be closer! Night ends in death; leaves Its ghostly silhouettes haunting the day The thorny crown of death tearing my mind, Screaming like an infinite ghoul Moonlight, plastered in my mind and Stamped onto my heart, wherever The darkness lurks it follows never ending The starry cycle, choking, haunting.

By Sophie 63






The seventh issue of Cherry, a feminist/art/photography/everything zine

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