TableofContents Ms Gomez– Introduction
AugustFiczeri–Seedsoflife
ParkerKoehler– OnOrangesAndOtherHolyThings
CortasiaButler–FabricofMine
SanaaPayne-Stewart–FairytalesandSisyphus
OliverHurley–Untitled
LIllianO’Callaghan–ApersonalencyclopediaoftheWindow
AnoushkaTaneja–TreeSap
Lily Walsh–Untitled
RindelaPeña–OnHunger
AiyanaRamos–AWorld’sMostPoisonousFlower
MaryStacy–Untitled
GregWitten– Fins
Introduction “SupposeIweretobeginbysayingthatIhadfalleninlovewithacolor,”readsthe iconicopeningtoMaggieNelson’sBluets,apoeticmeditationonlove,grief,andthecolorblue. Inrecentweeks,theSophomorestudentsinMultidisciplinaryStorytellingencounteredthistext aswellasworkbyKristaFranklin,TobyAltman,andAlisonThumelaspartofadeepdiveinto thegenreof“visualessay.”Thevisualessayisasubgenreofthe“braided”essay,agenrein which,accordingtoPurdue’sOnlineWritingLab,“thewriterhasmultiple‘threads’or ‘through-lines’ofmaterial,eachonadifferentsubject…Often,thethreadsseemverydisparate atfirst,butbytheclimaxoftheessay,thethreadsbegintoblendtogether;connectionsare revealed.”
Inthefollowingpages,witnesstheSophomores’masterfulweavingofdisparatethreads–ofMiscellanea–intoanarrestingtapestryofessays.Addressingtopicsasvariedas neighborhoods,citrusfruits,andNosferatu,thesestudentsinnovateontheform–decidedly pushingtheartforwards.
Ms.Gomez CreativeWritingConservatoryTeacher
April8,2025
SeedsofLife AugustFiczeri 1. I’vebeeneatingpomegranatessinceIwasyoung,Ilovedthetasteofthemdrippingdown mythroat,andIfeltwarmthcomingtomystomach.Ilovedthevibrantcoloritradiated asitwasrippedopeninthesun.Itglistenedsomethingsocomfortingyetunique.Since myfirstpomegranate,I’vegonethroughcycleswhereit’stheonlythingIwantedtoeat, theperfectmixoftexturesandflavors.
2. Idogetsickofitthough–Ifindthegrimyseedstogetstuckinbetweenthecrevicesof myteeth.Idon’tlikethat,Idon’tlikehowsomethingsobeautifulcanturninto somethingsodisgustingtome,it’showI’vealwaysbeen.Igointosmallcirclesofthings IlikeuntilI’veconsumedsomuchthateventheideamakesmesick.
3. Ihavenoticedaninfluxintheromanticizationofconsumption.Idon’tunderstandit.In BonesandAll,amoviethatcameoutin2022,themaincharactersarebothcannibalistic, fallingforeachotherandeventually,consumingoneanother.It’sstrangeinretrospectbut Islightlynoticetheromanticaspectofit,lovingsomeonetothepointwhereyouwantto besoclosetothem.Closewillneverbecloseenough,youwanttobecomeonewiththem andtheonlywaytodothatistoconsumethem.Themediareactiontothisismixed, somefindittobethemostromanticformofpassionbutothersfinditstrangeand somethingthatshouldnotberomanticizedwhatsoever
ThetermpomegranatecomesfromOldFrenchpomegrenate, frompome‘apple’+grenate‘pomegranate’(fromLatin(malum) granatum‘(apple)havingmanyseeds’,fromgranum‘seed’.After Ireadthisetymology,Ialwaysquestioned:
a. Whycan’tthepomegranatejustbeapomegranate, whydoesithavetocomefromsomethingelse?
b. Whyisthewordpomegranatesobasedon appearance? .
4. Ifeellikeapomegranate.Inthesensethateverythingaround meissoheavilybasedonthewayIphysicallyshowmyself,inthewaymyhairlooks thatday,inthewaymybodyispositioned,intheamountofoilthatbuildsuponmy face,inthenumberonthescaleat3AM. Igettreateddifferentlyduetoallthesefactors. Ifeelforit,Iseethroughtherootwordsandfocuses.Iseeitforallitisandseeeachpart ofitwithsuchbeauty
5. Ihaveseenmanypaintingsofpomegranates,buttheyareoftenoverlookedduetotheir context.Theyareusuallypaintedasstilllifes,commonlydefinedas“apaintingor
drawingofanarrangementofobjects,typicallyincludingfruitandflowersandobjects contrastingwiththeseintexture,suchasbowlsandglassware.”There’ssomethingabout this,though:Theyareonlyeverportrayedstill,andthefocusisnotonthem;itisjusta same-litpaintingoffruit.
6. Iwonderifthere’sacorrectwaytoopenme,toloveme.It’sbeendifficultformeto maintainrelationshipsforalongtime butIthinkitmightbesomething aboutmenow.I’mtiredofneedingto provideinstructionsonthecorrect waytoopenmeup.Onewrongmove andyou’releftwithamess.Nobody wantstocleanupamess,especially onethatstainseverythingittouches, you’llbeleftwithmagenta-stained
handsuntilyourskinrejuvenatesandforgetsthe bloodytouch.
Ifpomegranatesaresomessy,whydopeopletakethe timeto intricatelyopenthem?Inotherwords,can somethingbesomessyyetbeautiful?
MaybeI’mworththemesstoo.There’ssomething sweetinsideafterallthework,Iknowit.
7. Iwishpeoplewouldbemorepatientwithme.Idon’tmeantospillout.Idon’tintendto pourmyjuicesoutfortheworldtobestainedinmycolor.Inolongerwanttobeseenas somethingmessy,butIhavenocluehowtopreventit.AssoonasIgetpunctured,Ispill.
8. Therearemultiplepartstoapomegranate.Manypeopledon’tknowthis, andtheintricatebehaviorsareneededtopreserveeachportionofit.Manydon’t takethetimetoassesstheimportanceofeachpart,almostmimickingthelackof knowledgeregardingthehumanbody.Theneedtocareforandpreservationof health.
“OncewhenIwaslivingintheheartofapomegranate,Iheardaseedsaying,“SomedayIshallbecomeatree,andthewindwill singinmybranchesandthesunwilldanceonmyleaves,andshallbestrongandbeautifulthroughalltheseasons.”–KahilGibran
9.TherewasatimeinmylifewhenIsurroundedmyselfwithrottingseeds,Ialwaysthought,“I couldmakethemripeagain!”Thelifelessgreyseedscouldcomebacktolife,Iknewit.But,the moreItriedtobringthemback,themoremycolorbegantofade.Ibecameintoxicatedintheir routine,itwasinescapable.Islowlybegantobringdowneveryonewhosurroundedme,this becameaconstantloop.Ifonestartedtodie,weallstartedtodie.
10.There’saconnectionbetweenmeandallthatisaroundme.I’vealwaysheardthatthepeople yousurroundyourselfwithareadirectreflectionofthewaythatyoufeelaboutyourself. Hypothetically,ifIsurroundedmyselfwithpeoplewhomakemefeellikeeveryseedinsideme isgoingtoerode,whatwouldthatsayaboutme?
i. Mostpsychologistswouldprobablyinferthatmyself-esteemmustbeat rockbottomduetothesheerabundanceofcruelbehaviorIendure.
ii. Mostnutritionistswouldprobablyinferthatthepeoplearoundmeare whatI’mputtinginsideofmyself,ifrotisbeingconsumed,Iwillslowly becomeittoo.
iii. MostmotherswouldprobablyinferthattheanswerliesbehindthemediaI consume.MaybeifIwasn’talwaysonmyphone.
They’dprobablyallberight.
11.InGreekmythology,Hades,thegodoftheunderworldabductsPersephoneandtakesherto theunderworld.Whilethere,sheeatsafewseedsofapomegranatewhichbindshertothe underworldforpartoftheyear.DuetoPersephonebeingintheunderworld,Demetercauses wintertooccurduringthemonthsPersephonespendsinit.
I’vealwaysgoneintocyclesofdepressionsinceIwasalittlekid.Itfeltlikethewinterjustmade megetworse,orsomethingelse.Therewasalwaysthesameprocessofevents.Someoneor somethingwouldleave,anditwouldcausemetospiral.I’mawarenowthatthisisdefinitely somethingthatisveryunhealthywhich Iwillinevitablyhavetoprocess,butit’salittle comforting.It’sweirdhowsomethingsogrotesquecanbecomeasafespace.
“YOUARECOMFORTABLEINYOURMENTALILLNESS” I’mworriedthatI’mbeginningtorotfromthe insideout.
Idon’twanttoinfectthosearoundme. Icannotbringthemdownwithme.
Theyallchantinunison.
12.Pomegranateshavebeenusedinwriting throughouttime,asamotiffor femininity, fertility,love,obsession,andpatience.
b. Ilovefemininity
c. Ilovefertility
d. Ilovelove
e. Iloveobsession
f. Ilovepatience
There’ssomethingintheblood-likecolor.I understandthebeautybehindallthatspills.
9. Ireallylikepomegranates.
OnOrangesAndOtherHolyThings ParkerKoehler
Thegoldenhourisknownforproducingnaturallightthatiseasytoworkwith.“It’shardto overexposeorunderexposepartsofanimage,likeasubject’sface,becausethelightisveryeven andhasagoldenhue.Itisinthesebriefmomentsdirectlyaftersunriseanddirectlybeforesunset thatthebestportraitsarecaptured,whenthelightbendsaroundthehumanformlikeahalo. Thereisnowaytoartificiallyreplicatethislight–theysayitlookslikelove.
thedrowsedlight condensationcrowned afterlayingamongpeachesandplum peelthickwithpith thedrowsedlight condensationcrowned afterlayingamongpeachesandplum peelthickwithpith whenfingerssinkintowaxyskinandtear awayinsoftwhitespirals stickingunderpliantnails packedandclinginglikedirt noinchofpalmleft untouchedfromthespillofsunnedcitrus ichorcarvingpathsdowntheknobsofawrist honeyedandsharpatthebackofathroat thesummerconsumedbackintornslicesabenediction guttedandhalvedandhelduplikeanofferingtoasofteye
Mydadhaswornthesamekindofsoft-knithatsforadecade they'rethreeforapack,notespeciallythickbutsoftfromalltheyearsandwashes Hisfavoriteisthecolorofoldamber oftheoldhandrailsthathetookoutbackandpaintedneon Idon'tknowifI'veeveraskedhimwhybutnow loveisorangeandsoftyellowandgold andsometimesthepoemwritesitself.
Predatingthe15thcentury,therewasnoEnglishname forthecolororange. Itwasreferredtoaseitheryellow-redorbythename ofashade,suchassaffron. Itisoftenbelievedthatthefruittookitsnamefromits color,butitisinfactthe opposite– the name of the fruit tree comes from Tamil.
Citrussinensisisnotanaturallyoccurringspecies. Basedongeneticanalysis,mostexpertsagree thatthisisahybridplantresultingfromapurposeful cross betweenahybridmandarinorange(Citrusreticulata) andahybrid pomelo(Citrusmaxima) Exactlywhen andwhere thiscrosstookplace isnotfullyunderstood, althoughsomeevidencesuggests southernChinamaybethepoint oforigin.
it'slateafternoonandyou'retossingaclementinebackandforth,andihavetopretendthatiam lookingatthefruitandnotthecoloryoureyesturninthesun. you'retellingsomekindofstory andlaughingaroundeveryword.iwanttosaysomethinglikedidyouknowthatClementiawas thegoddessofforgiveness.IthinkIunderstandwhy.ormaybegivememyorangebackorjustlet mepeelitforyou, butI'mafraidthatanythingisaywillsoundtoomuchlikeiloveyou.
anatomyofasupermarketorange
TheoldpainterswrappedBacchusinorangeandcalledhimmad,gavehimecstasyandinsanity andsaidhere,thistoo,andgavehimtheorchards.Theoldpainterspeeledanorangeintoaspiral andleftpulponthealtar Theycalleditaholything.
1. Ittakesme15minutestogetmyoutfitreadyinthemorning.Ilovetobe surethatmyclothes,hair,nails,shoes,andclothesarematching, sometimesIliketoputonlashestoo.Iliketolookprettytofeelpretty.I don’tlikeitwhenclothesdon’tmatch,oranythingreally.WhenIwas youngerIdidn’tcareasmuchbutnowIdo.Myappearancemattersthe mosttome.Iwanttobe comfortableandcute.
2. Iwasraisedby womenwhoknewhowto dress,soIfeltlikeIhadto meetthatcriteriasoI surroundedmyselfwith fashionablepeople.Iam spoiled,soIoftenwear greenortrytowearyellow. Iliketokeephoodiessince Idon’tlikepeopleallthe time,orskirtswhenIfeel moremodest.
3. Iliketogetasense ofmyroots,gold,silver, andpearls.Skirtsflowing, diamondsdancing, braceletssinging.Owning whoIamwiththeclothesI got,nomatterwhattheoccasionis.Iwilldanceinthesun,swayingwith thesand.LivingwiththestylesIliketorock.
4. Thewayclothescantellyoualotaboutapersonandwhattheyarelike. Peoplewhobuyexpensivethingssometimeswanttobeseenorfeelbetter. Otherswhowearcheapthingsdon’tcareabouttheirappearanceorwhat peoplethink.Thesethingsareassumedandleftalone.Thingsshouldn’tbe assumedinanywaybutwhatcanwedo.
Fairy-TalesandSisyphus SanaaPayne-Stewart
1. AbigthingI’veheardinrecentyearsissomethingcalled“theLonelinessEpidemic.” FromwhatIremember,itreferstoaspikeinlonelinessduetotheisolatingnatureof socialmedia,andIcandefinitelyseehowthataffectsme.Irememberduringthe pandemic,myfriendsalwayswentoutandIdidn’tknowanythingabouttheseoutings untilIlookedonSnapchatandsawthem,smilinglikeitwasthebestdayoftheirlives(it might’vebeen,I’llneverknow).
2. Separatefromsocialmedia,I’vedriftedawayfrommybestfriendafewyearsbackand foundmyselftakingthebackseatofnearlyeveryfriendshipsince.Althoughwedrifted apartnaturally, Imisssittingshotgun.Andinaworldwhereeveryone’stalkingabout hallwaycrushesandpeopletheywanttotalkto,I’mneverreallymentioned,andithelps addtothatfeelingthatI’mnotparticularlyanyone’sfavoriteperson,I’mjustthere.
3. IfthisisSnowWhite,I’mtheHuntsman.IfthisisCinderella,I’mtheguywhoputsthe glassshoeonCinderellaandhersisters.ItfeelslikeI’mjusttheretosupplement everyoneelse,myownhappyendinglefttothewind.Heck,peopledon’tevenremember mynameasmuchwhencomparedtosomeofmyfriends,soImightaswellbeanother namelesssidecharacter
4. Youknow,therewasthisvideoIwatchedduringWinterBreakbyachannelnamed Polyphonicabout“TheHouseoftheRisingSun,”andithadaninterestingpoint.It basicallymadetheclaimthatthroughoutallversionsofthesong,theoneconstantisthat theHouseisaplaceyoudon’twanttobein,yetaplaceyoukeepcomingbackto.Of course,Idon’twanttobetrappedinanold,lonelyhousewithnohappyendings,butI keepcomingbackbecauseit’salmostbuiltintomysubconscious.Itofferscomfortin familiarityratherthaninenjoyment,anditsrottinghallsdrawmeineverytimeIfeel down.SometimesIwanttocomeout,butthenIwonder,“wouldanyonecareifIcame out?OrwouldtheyevennoticeifIwentin?”
5. Idon’tgoonsocialmediaasmuchasIusedto,butit’slikebeinginaHouse,aswell. You’reseeingeveryone’sperfectlivesthroughaphonescreen,whichisthephysical barrierthatkeepsyouinyourownsorrow Youwanttogetout,butit’ssoaddicting…
6. SometimeslifeislikeSisyphus;youthinkyou’regettingsomewhere,thenyoufallright backdowntorockbottom(nopunintended).CamusproposesthatSisyphuswashappy becauseofthestruggle,havingsomethingtoconstantlystrivefor.ButdoIenjoy fantasizingaboutpossiblymakingittothetop,ordoIenjoybeingthrowntothebottom again,returnedtothefamiliarbitingvoicesofdoubtandself-pity?
7. The drifting,
8. Ghosts;likeurbanlegends,Creepypastas,orhorrormovies!Iusedtowatchthemallthe timeonYouTubewhenIwasyounger,withnoknowledgeofthedetrimentitwould causetomypsyche.ItwasalwaysscarytothinkthataBloodyMary,oraPennywise,or aBoogeymancouldberightbeyondwhatIcouldseeandfeel,waitingtostrikeassoon asthecandlewentout.ButI’velearnedthesepastfewyearsthatyoudon’thavetobea ghostoraparanormalbeingtobeinvisible.
9. It’spartiallyme,it’soccasionallyothers,butIwon’tgoonandsaythat“theworldis againstme”.That’llgetmeabsolutelynowhere.WhatIneedtodoistomakemyself seen.
10.I’mwastingtimestaringintoamagicmirror,repeatedlyasking“Who’sthegreatestof themall?”tofindthenextpersontocomparemyselfto,thenextpersontoberatemyself fornotbeinglike.ButIrarelyturnthatmirrorinwardsandseewhatI’mdoingwrongand whatIcancontrol.Inthewordsofmytherapist,ImightnotbeaSnowWhiteora SleepingBeauty(whowouldwanttobethem,anyway?),butIcouldalwaysbea just-as-importantprincessinaneighboringkingdom.
11.NoonehasreallysaidthatIbelonginthebackground.NoonehassaidthatI’mlessthan them.Eveniftheydid,whatmakesthemsohighandmightythattheythinktheycan decidewho’simportantandwho’snot?WhileIdon’tknowexactlywhatputmethere,I knowit’smyconsciouschoicetostaythere.HowdoIexpectotherstoseemeifIdon’t seemyselfforwhoIam?
12.I’mSisyphus,sittingonthebottomofahill.Ilookupatthetop,whichisscrapingthe sky.Theboulder,whichcontainsallmystrugglesanddisappointments,sitsnexttome.I standandpositionmyselfbehindthemassandstartwalking, acknowledging-then-dismissingtheharshvoicesbeneathmeandsettingmyeyesonthe risingsun.
Untitled OliverHurley (wikipedia.org)
Perhapsthemostcommoninjurytoswimmersis repeatedtraumaandoveruseoftherotatorcuff intheshoulder.whenthearmisrepetitivelyused inapositionabovethehorizontallineofthe body.ineachofthefourswimmingstrokes,in everycycleofthearms,Outofthefourtendons intherotatorcuff,thesupraspinatusismost pronetotearing.
Ioncewentouttothewaterinthemiddleofastorm. Ilinedmynosetothehorizontalplaneofthewater’sripplingfront andwatchedeachraindropasithitthesurface. Theyjoinedtogetherinthestratosphereandseparatedastheyrain down, onlytojoinagainattheend.Arminarm,handinhand, eachmouth-fullofwaterthatwasforcedintomymouthbyalake-frontwave Eachonecommunity, isn’tit?
Thereisinitialredness,followedbyvaryingdegreesof pain,theseverityofwhichcorrelateswiththeduration andintensityofsunexposure.Ultravioletradiation causessunburnsandincreasestheriskofskincancer. DNAisdamagedbyUVBlight.Snowblindnessis sunburnofthecornea.youcanstillgetsunburntinthe winter.Thebesttreatmentformostsunburnsistime; mostsunburnshealcompletelywithinafewweeks.
wikipedia.org
Youcanstillgetsunburntinthewinter,didyouknowthat?Putsunscreenonbefore goingtosled,youmightslideintoamirageofsand.There'sabeachsomewhereout thereinthesnow,andinmyheadI'mprayingthisisasunburn,notfrostbite.
Doyouknowwhatitmeanstoswallowacherrypit?
Feelthatseedgrowinginyourheartformonths, whereitwilleventuallysproutrootsdownyourlegslikeveins. Doyouknowitbeatswithyourbloodlikeableedingheart?
Whenthestemsfinallysproutfromunderneathmynails Orlikelashesfrommyeyes I’lleatitbeforeyoucancatchaglimpse,andsaveitforsummerrightbeforeyou’llnever seemeagain.
Watermelon(Citrulluslanatus)isafloweringplant specieswithsweet,juicyfleshthatis usuallydeepredtopinkwithmanyblackseeds.It'sa sweet,commonlyconsumedfruitofsummer,usually asfreshslices,dicedinmixedfruitsalads,orasjuice that canbeblendedormadeintowine. (en.wikipedia.org)
Ioncestoodinthegrassbarefoot,fireworksinmy handsanda
Flinginmyheart
Becauseyouhelpedmeupontothecarouselseat Nailedtoasap-drainingtree
Thetrunkwasstickyandforjustthatonenight,my handsweretooinyourpresence.
Inthecontextofhunting,lookoutpointsarestrategic locationsusedtoobserveandtrackwildlife,theycould belocatedattheTowerTop,providinghunterswitha vantagepointtospotprey.
https://thehuntercotw.fandom.com
Asfireworksburstthroughthesky
Andchicagoisfilledwithsmoke
IStepoutsideontomybalconyand Breathin
doyoueverwonderwhathappenstothefewashes Thatdon’tmakeitallthewayup?
loveis saving. fruit flavoredfeelings, remediesofchildhoodcherrieskept close sweetnesssoothingthe summerofcold heartsinterlocked, boundatthestem thepitthatfell deepgrewacherrytree,hopethestem willgrowthick;juicyfruitstopluck hope one daysummerwill bloomyear rou– nd thinkitwill never rot; therainbow fru– itsmadeof of thoughts when the tree gro– ws, left pla–ntedInthegardenof mid–nightmemories hopetobethecherry notthepit Intheground,buriedwiththerootsandstems hopetohaveafuneral inthoughts,evenifI'mnottrulydead commemoratedeaththissummersowe canmeetagainnextspring.painttheheartcherryflavored,bringittothepoleonmay–day,wrappedwithstrings hopetobethestartnotafrayattheend summerischerrys–eason,chewedaroundthepit,flickedoffthepalm;acoin headsandtaleslostinthefa–rmslonggrass.cherryseasoninsummer.burymethere loveisremembering.Thesm–ellofclothes,stainsofhairdyeandsleepinginschool meltedshortcake,yourwindowsill, hopetobethere,notabackgroundcharacterindreams;alingeringitchtheyholdoffofs–cratchingsothescabdoesn’tbleed remediesofchildhoodcherrieskeptclose lostinthe farm'slonggrass curlyhairlikewheat,theweightofyourhandsinmine;burdened hopetogrowstrong,pluckhopefromthetreesowhenthecherryfallsIknow howtoremovethestain.remembermewhenthecherrytreegrows, andthefruitsaresweeterthen anywordsIspoke
Lillian
Glossary:
1.) Glassbricks/blocks:arealmostgrasstome.Thewaytheysiphonwindthroughtheircaulk veins.Thewindbornmorningwhistleyouhearthemsoundseemsasifpressedbetweentwo thumbs.Minewerecardboardcoatedandductheld,onlyinsummerdidthesunbouncebetween theprismallines.Mygrandmother,andmygreatallhavesome,snakingarounddoorsandholding ventstight.Thoughtheyareshallowanddirtynow,yearsofcrudanddustthatcanonlybefirst piggy-bankfreed.Theyarepaperyellowandseemtocoughsnotintotheairaroundthem,sending matchboxcarsandbarbiesetscoweringtothecarpet.ButIamfondofthemwhenIseeredand clearbrickswrappedandmeshedtogetheronoldwalls.Theyareacolorlessdanceoflightonmy childhoodfloor,benttogetherthroughbabyfingers,thebackgroundtoabloodypalmandrusty nail.Cooltotheprintsofmyindexandthumb,unbeknownsttothedirtIbear.Homeisbetween theirpanes,coldwinterwhenpipesfreeze.
Diagram:
1.) Windowseenthroughhumaneyes:(Unknown.Window.2016,Home.)
Glass,orGod,wherebothmaybeequals:Sainte-Chapelle,Paris
Inheaventhereislight, supposedly.Stained glassfromaParisian churchmimicsGod's hand.Heavenisa window.Canitbe broken Canallhopeof goodnessandlightbe shatteredwithasingle stone Orisitbullet proof,Ihavemy doubtsnonetheless DidGodmakeitsomy soulcouldbefreed withasingleshatter behindmyeyes.The pebbleIrollin betweenthelinesin mypalmseemsto becomeamountain.
TreeSap AnoushkaTaneja 1. The tallest tree in the world is named Hyperion. It’s in Redwood National Park, and it’s three-hundred seventy-nine feet tall Visitation is restricted, due to the amount of trash and damage people potentially have and may cause to it
2. I’ve never been able to keep plants alive. I wanted to get into gardening, but when I went to a plant shop, I ended up getting a pot shaped like a bird instead, which I plan to use to store rocks These are cool rocks I got them at a museum. But they’re not alive, so it’s not impressive that they aren’t dead.
3. Deforestation causes about one hundred thirty seven species to go extinct per day. Furthermore, the main cause of deforestation is to grow crops that will be fed to animals for slaughter There’s something grim about that, isn’t there?
(4,5,6)
7. People don’t think climate change will end the world. The people who make the decisions that contribute most to it will suffer the least effects. It’s like that for most things But it’s totally understandable for people to do absolutely nothing to stop causing others to die, because why should their actions be their responsibility? It makes more sense to blame the corporations who use the most energy And the best way to do this is to continue paying those corporations for the things that use that energy. Because it could never be our faults
8. One example of those things: I always wanted a fake tree. In my room. Or, maybe not always, but for a while It would be part of a forest theme, the walls and ceilings painted to be the sky with fake grass on the ground and fake plants hung from various places But it had to be fake Fake dirt, fake leaves, fake sky. I don’t know why. It just feels more whimsical, to have a plastic tree instead of a real one. Or a poem about trees, or an essay about them. But I’ll walk right past real ones
9 Fun fact about trees: they don’t have feelings If you chop a tree down, or slowly peel its bark off, or yank leaf by leaf from its branches, it wouldn’t care. At least, that’s what you’d hope. But I’d bet that people would continue the way they are without a second thought even if we found out that a tree was aware of every inch of their self, every stimulus they absorb causing pain or joy or some sort of value that can’t exist outside of sentience. We wouldn’t even need to find a new excuse, and we’d never admit that it’s wrong So I hope that trees don’t have feelings, because sometimes it’s better to experience nothing than to experience something
10. And sometimes the good is just okay and the bad is really bad. So what are you supposed to do, then? Isn’t it better to do nothing? But no, you’re supposed to wake up every morning and go to sleep every night, and, worst of all, the stuff in between You’re supposed to care about stuff that you don’t care about, even when people will say directly to your face that they don’t care about you or anyone else, and that’s your problem now.
11. This may seem whiny, but teachers keep giving me assigned seats. In addition, they’ll answer any “I don’t want to”s with “I don’t care”s Which is funny, because, yeah. Obviously you don’t care. You’re not the one sitting there. You get to choose where you sit. You have free will. You have so much free will that if people were to tell you not to kill the planet or sentient beings, you’d think they were infringing on your rights.
12. And it’s not just about the seats, or about not being with friends. It’s a lot about that, but it’s not just about that. It’s about the way nothing in my life is my choice Even the stuff that others don’t force me to do, it’s not up to me. I didn’t choose to live in this skin, or what the weather is like, or to have to eat food to survive. Trees have even less choice.
I don’t care
Trees can’t move They can grow in the direction of the sun, but they can’t wave their branches about in a sign of pure joy, and they can’t cry or talk. They can’t do a lot of things, but the things they can do are remarkable. If a tree had feelings, they would have to stand there, frozen, unable to move And they’d have to watch as someone else uses their own personalfreedom to take away that of the tree. They’d have to stand there, frozen, as their entire being is taken away, to be put into a new end table or piece of paper that no one will look at as more than a dumping ground for their random junk And if they had the vocal cords to beg for their lives, they, 99 times out of 100, would only be met with one phrase.
Untitled LILYWALSH-1/16/13 The Sun is about 100 times wider than Earth, and 10 times wider than Jupiter. The king of the solar system which reigns high above the others yet never leaves their level It is the only star explicitly included within the solar system. It is the heart. The sun is about 5 billion years old. ~sun~ is the
Within every year he opened his eyes, he brought life and worked himself to bring life to us The sun is essential for all life to continue to grow Without him, we would continue to rot, The sun is actually a white color Purity is throughout the star It was born of gas and cloud dust Breathe him into you, and embrace the message you receive
OSAGE IlivedinasmallorangeapartmentonOsageStwhenIwasyoung My fathergotitforus,hesaidwecouldhavelivedagoodlifethere Foolishly asan8yearold,Ibelievedinthewordshespoke
Andso,Ichangedmyselfcountlesstimes sothenexttimehesawme,hecouldn’t recognisemeorexpectmetofollowhim home.
Thebalconyrailsalongwiththebricksliningthefrontwerecoloredafadedorange.The paintrustedandchippedwitheachliehepromisedme, andalongwiththat,myparents'conversationsfaded away.EverydayIwouldsitontheorangebalconyand wonder.-Isn’titconfusingforan8yearoldgirl?
Osage LW If cuties are just small versions of oranges, What's the real difference between the two? One is smaller, sweeter, easier. I prefer the cutie as well, I am guilty of it. I am guilty of the mindset in which the sweeter and easier, the better. You can carefully peel back the orange peel and eat the sweet fruit on the inside. You throw away the bitter peel you strip from it, and
enjoy whatever is left of it. It’s the same for regular oranges, right?
Don’t be bitter if you were not chosen. The sun, the little girl who lived on osage, and oranges were all in your place before that. Save yourself.
Rin de la Peña On Hunger
Digital, 2025
02/15/25 8:14 PM
15F
BD:10/13/08.
There’ssomethingalmostmonstrousabouthavingdesireasanuglygirl.
Ofcourse,sexualdesireamongallwomenisvillainized.Butevenpassivelongingis disgusting,laughable.
Likeputtinglipstickonapig.
It’sbeingamonster,insatiableinherneedforhumanflesh.
Whilememesabout“monsterfucking”haverecentlyjoinedthezeitgeist,storiesabouthumanwomen fallingformonstersarealmostasoldascivilizationitself.Take,forexample,thebelovedBeautyandthe Beast,inwhichagirlleavesherlifebehindtogetrailedbya7foottallmonsterinthewoods Orthe classic1922silenthorrorNosferatu,whereavampirestalkshisrealestateagent’swifeandbrings sicknesstothetown.Itallculminatesinthewifesacrificingherselftosavethelivesofherfellow townspeople NosferatuwasrecentlygivenaremakestarringNicholasHoultandLilyRose-Depp, pivotingthediscussionsurroundinggothichorror,vampires,andsexualityintothemainstream. InNosferatu,thelinebetweenpainandpleasureisblurred.Whilegothichorrorisnostrangerto interweavingtheeroticandthemacabre,thewayNosferatutackleswomen’ssexualityisparticularly fascinating.Thewife,Ellen,issexuallyandemotionallyrepressedandunsatisfiedinherostensibly perfectmarriage,yet,CountOrlokdoesnotgrantherliberation,butinstead,istherootofhertrauma In theopeningscene,shepraystoaninvisibledarknessandispossessedbyitsecondslater.Atfirst,Ellen moansinsoftecstasy,onlytobeginviolentlythrashingandseizingsecondslater.Andattheendofthe film,shelaysdead,herchestrippedopen,CountOrlokontopofher Ellentakestheconceptofa“perfectvictim”andannihilatesit.Sheisloud,sheisneurotic,hersymptoms arenot“palatable”.Herfearcannotbeseparatedfromhersexualdesire–theyarefundamentally intertwined,asiscommonforpeoplesufferingfromsexualtrauma Andliketrauma-induced hypersexuality,Ellen’svisionsofCountOrlokareeitherdismissedastypicalfemale hysteriaortreatedassomethingtobebeatenoutofherinsteadoflistenedtoandunderstood.Sheisquite literallydemonizedbythemeninherlife.
Wecan’ttalkaboutthevampirewithoutalsotalkingaboutitsroleasatoolofbigotry.Dracula,perhaps themostinfluentialvampirestoryandtheprecursortoNosferatu,containsseveralallusionstothe racialized“other” Horrorreflectssociety’scurrentfears,andDraculaholdsamirrortothewidespread antisemitismandxenophobia–aforeign,EasternEuropeanpowercorruptingthe“pure”whitewomanand bringsaplaguetotherestofEurope,nottomentiontheratimagerythatwasalsousedtodemonize Jewishpeople However,incontemporaryliterature,thevampireasasymbolofhatredforracialized peopleisturnedonitshead,anditinsteadbecomesametaphorforcolonialviolence.
Teethsankintomyneck.Igasped,forroom,forair,foranything,nailsdraggingdownhisback.Thelast thingIsawwashimflushingawarmredasmyownhandsturnedaghostlypale.Heravagedme,turned meintooneofhisown Anugly,grotesqueimitationofahuman
WhenYouToldMeYouLovedAsianGirls... Iknewyoudidn’tmeanme. Me, BrownerthanIamyellow, Flat-facedandchinky-eyed, Withthickeyebrowsontheirwaytomeet. Me,pudgierthanIamcurvy. Me,whowants,andImeanwantstohavesex. Me,who's"toomuch", BecauseHeavenforbidwearen’t Perfect Andpetite Anddiminutive.
Iknowwhoyoumeant:
Theoneswithsmooth,cream-yellowskin,pale butnottoopalelestyouforgettheirforeignness, whoseperfectalmondeyesareframedbydark,shinyhair Who’llgazeupatyouwiththoseeyesfromontheirknees. Theonesreadytobowdowntoyou,readytobebrokenlikeperfectlittleChina dolls.
Theoneswhoofferyoua“sucky-sucky”inbrokenEnglish, Theoneswhodon’tknowenoughEnglish,butenoughthatyoucancoercethem intogettingintobedwithyou.
Theoneswhoonlyexistinyourimagination
AWorld’sMostPoisonousFlower AiyanaRamos
Ialwaysputmyselfbeforeothers,whetherIneededhelpornot,itdidn'tmatter.I wasashield,arock.IlikedbeingusefultoeveryoneandifIwasn't,wellwho cares?Idid.Ienteredhighschoolwithmywittshigh,chinup.Imadefriends quickly,maybeitwasmysmileorjustthepitytheyfeltforme.Inevercared,Ijust wantedtobeloved.
Blamingmyselfforminorinconvenienceshadbecomeanewnormalforme.My soulwasusedtobeingbeatendownandoverwhelmedwithpilesofproblems.I rememberfightingwiththisgirl.WecallherAtropa.Wewerebothyoungand dumbandwantedfriends.Sheblamedmeforbeingtoobusy,divingintopapers thatwereearningmeF’s.Itfeltpointless.Itfeltpainful.
Thefightinggotworse,itfeltlikeI wasdrowning.Ialwaystookthe blame,withnoapologies.Knives gettingdugintomyneck,andI'd saysorry.Atropawasgettingworse, andworse,andworse.ButIcouldn't pullmyselfaway.Atropawasmy everything.Atropabelladonna, knownastheworld'smost poisonousflower,adeadly nightshade..MyAtropa,agirlthat waspeppyandseeminglysweet. Herpetalsweresoftandgentle, soothingtotheeyes.Icouldnever feelthepoisonthatwouldbe inflictedagainstmyskin,burningmyvineswithsupplescarsandtears.Shewas drowningme,suffocatingmewithherpoison.Iwouldtakegentlebitesofpetals, chewingthemgently,grimacingatthetastebutpushingthrough.Ineverrealized.
Deadlynightshade(Atropabelladonna)isconsideredoneofthemostpoisonous flowersintheworld.Allpartsoftheplantaretoxic,includingtheberries,leaves, stems,androots.
Iwasusedtobeingfedtoxins,curdlingupmythroat.Shewouldneverhurtme, shelovesme,shewantsmetolive. Liar.
Iheardotherflowerstellmetostrayawayfromthenightshade,tonevereatits poison.Itwastoxicofcourse,butIdidn'tcare.Ididn'tbelievethem.Atropawas kindandcaring.
Shewasaliar.Shepouredsaltdeepintomywounds.Shepushedberriesintomy mouthfromhervines.Ithurt.Iwantedittostop.Ithurt.You’rehurtingme.My shieldscan'tprotectmyself,theyprotectyou.
Mythoughtswouldspiralandmyheartwouldfightmyvoices.Pickingflower petalsoffofviolets.Hateandlove.Protectandbetray.Lifeordeath.Wasitfair? WasIright?WasIwrong?Iwas.Iwasexhausted.Iwashearingthings.Iwas listeningtotheotherflowers.
Theviolettoldmetogiveuponthetoxins.AtropaBelladonna.Shewasknownfor beingthemostvileflower,hidingbehindafauxkindness.
Ihadgivenway.Acalmtalkhadturnedtoscreams,insults,tears.Ithurt.Iwas exhausted.Iwaspoisoned.Atropahadshovedthepoisondeepenoughtoleave scars.Toleavewoundsagainstmyhead.
Deadlynightshade(Atropabelladonna)isconsideredoneofthemostpoisonous flowersintheworld.
Allpartsoftheplantaretoxic,includingtheberries,leaves,stems,androots.
MyAtropawasaliar.Shewasamonster.She wasapoison.
AndI’dknowI’dneverseeherpoisonousface again.
Untitled MaryStacey
1.Yellowisthecolorbetweengreenandorangeonthespectrumoflight.Itisevokedbylight withadominantwavelengthofroughly575–585nm.Ifbetweenthetwocoloursinthespectrum oflightthenwhydoitstwoclosestcolourslooknothingalike?I'vewonderedifappliedtomost otherthings,canreallymakesense.Manypeoplereallyarejustliketheirfriends,thoughsome canbesovastlydifferentasthese.Orangehasaspectsofyellow,andsodoesgreen;maybeit's theonethingthatconnectsthem.Likeotherpeople,sometimestherecouldbeaselectfewthings thatfoldthemsoeasilyintoeachother?
2.Sometimesyoucanfindbitsofyourselfinothers.Thewayyellowfindsitselfingreensand corals,eveninthedepthsofscarlett.Youcanfindyourselfinanything,really.Youcanmix yourselftodifferentgroupslikethewaysinwhichprimarycoloursmakeuptherestofthe spectrum.
3.Therearealsodifferentthingsyoucanbeperceivedas,likeyellowfindsitselfinthetrickof youreyestothesun,seeminglyfaintlyyellowwhenreallywhite.Therearemanywayscolours candeceiveyou,likethewaysomelevelsofpinklookorangecomparedtoothershades,orhow fainteryellowscanlookwhiteincomparisontodeeppurples.Somepeoplelooklikecolours they'renot.
4. Ameansofcryptological communicationthroughthe useorarrangementof flowers.Meaninghasbeen attributedtoflowersfor thousandsofyears.Daisies havealwaysmeant something,whetherthatbe purityorrottingisuptothe restofastory Sometimes peoplefeellikedaisies, prettylooking,likethe
whitesofthepetals,butrottenlikethesymbolismofadaisy'sbud.Sometimespeopleseemso delicate,thoughtheyseemmoretomelikethemendedcrackswithsunlightpeeringin,mended byrot.Itseemsasthoughmanyprettypeoplekeepupafacadehavingtodowiththedelicacyof theirbeauty,andtherotinevitablyinsideofthem.
5.I'vealwayslikedthesymbolismofadaisy,andusedtocompareittoagirlinmysixthgrade class.Shewasbeautiful,blackhairandblack-lookingeyes,porcelainskin.Shewasperfect. Whenwewerealittleoldershesatnexttomeandpickedadaisyfromtheground.Whenshe handedittome,allIcouldthinkofwashowsheresembleditsoeasily Thedaisywitheredand diedinmylockerwithinanhour,thewayrumoursofherspreadjustasrapidly.Weallknewthey weretrue.Icaughtaglimpseofherarmswhenshe'dgottenmorecomfortablearoundme,allof thescarringcleancutanddeliberate,thelinesjustasorderlyasshe'dalwaysbeen.Iknewthere wasarotaboutherwhenshefirststartedtalkingtome;explainingallofthebitterthingsshe'd doneandgonethrough.AssheexplainedIwonderedhowsuchabeautifulfacecouldhavethis wayofwords,sodelicatelyspokenwithherprettyvoice.Ifounditdifficulttoarticulatehow someonesoprettycouldbefilledwithsuchmaliceanddespair.
6. Friendshipisarelationshipofmutualaffectionbetweenpeople.Itisastrongerformof interpersonalbondfriendshipsaremadebetweentwopeoplethatfeelarebetteracquaintedwith oneanothertoberespectedas"acquaintances".Thisusuallyhappenswiththepeoplethatspend moretimetogether,whetherthatbefoundinacommonarealikeaschoolorworkplace,ora blendinschedulethatinvolvesprolongedtimeinthesamespace.Theactofspeakingtoanother persononaregularbasisisakeyfactorinmaintainingormakingafriend,nomatterhowmuch youhaveincommon;itisfoundthatitismorethefamiliaritythatkeepspeopleattached.
7.Whenabondlikethispersists,itmaybehardtoretain.Mixingthewrongcolourcanresultin differencesinambition.Driftingfromanotherpersonislikefallingfromthesamesideofthe colourwheel,whetherit'smutualorpersonal,itcausespeopletochange Sometimescooler tonesareevenedoutbywarmerones,butinthisslipfallingtothesamecouldbeforthebest.
8 Somebondsarecreatedfromcompletionratherthansimilarity Thewayyellow-green clasheswithpinkissomethingfoundmorecommonlyinduos,thoughmaybethemoststable thatthereis Ifeelasthoughsomepeoplewhoaresodifferentthataretobefriends,nomatter vastdifferences,havestrongerbonds.Andprovestheycanadmirefeaturesthataren'tapartof themself.
9.Adaisyinapersonsymbolisesbeautyandtragedy,butwhataboutotherflowers?Canthere beanopposite?Ithinkifthereis,thetwowouldworkwelltogether;thoughcancelingeachother outisn'talwaysthebest Thestrongestbondscanalsobetheworst Ifoppositesidesofthe colourwheelclashtooharshly,onewillovertaketheother.Asifadaisyisspreadingitsrot.
Fins GregWitten EntranceNotes - Scaredbeforeweevenmet
- Rumorsswirledworsethanawhirlpool
- Meetingswerealwaystoohardfromrightofftheshore
- BrokenpeopleseemewhenIbreakatlast
- Braveonesareidioticandniceonesalwayswanttobeplatonic
- Scarswanttobehealedbutscrambledimageschosetostayinpain
- Peoplewanttoglareknowingifseeadropofinsecuritymyeyesgoblack
- Isbeingsadokay?
- Canonestillkeeptheirstandbyonlysittinginthebackoftheline
Wordsonlytickleone’ssoulwhileitemstrytodamagethebody.Truthto thematteristhatthebodywillonlybehurtifoneletsit.Everyonethinks thepartofthesayingtalkingabout“breakingbones”mattersbutthereal factisboneshavenothingtodowithit.Whentakingbonesoutofthe equationyoukeepyourbodyintactfromthepainbyawilltokeepthepain fromframe.
SavagesAlwaysLied Teethtearingthroughthosewhoposeafoe Talesandtrailsthatallendinblood thetruthsofuswereneverleftuntouched
Redemptionisadream thatventuredtoofaroffinit’scloud Achecklistthat’stoofardowntheroad ofliberationtoeverseethefinishline
Whereveryougo, yourimageofdarknessandfoe isallyouwillknow
Thescentofrighteousnessisunknown tothosewhodon’tknowrepose
Eyesofhatewillonlyseepain, truthisnothingbutalie writtenfromanothertime.
Milesandmiles, endlesscyclesofgreat pain,hate,andblame Toxic kingdomtoruininshame.Othersoffear, theyonlyruninvain.Thefalsehopewiththe needofpowertheyregained.It’slonelyatthe topbutworstwhenyou'rethegod.
TheotherdayIwasonmycomputer,rushingtypingonthekeyboard. [Howtostitchupadeepwound]Onehandovermytorso,theother movinginrapidspeed,flashingthroughthekeys.Myvisionslowly hazeasmymemoiresflyoutononeplane Swimmingthroughthe waveswiththecurrentupagainstme.Thebeautyofcoralgracesmy sight.Seaturtles,stingrays,fishesandall.Cloudsformedinmysky whenIfeltlikeIwasgonnadie.Thebiteseepedin,myeyessoon raised.Fightingbackwiththewilltosurvive,thefragmentleftwas actuallyakeyjammedinside.
Rogers Park Didnt Deserve Me By: Liam Benham
Dear Neighborhood,
Neighbors whether they live next door, down the street, or are anyone you may not know act as the foundation of my neighborhood Whether they have a pet bird or a potbelly pig, they contribute to this sense of community Neighbors come and go; everyone needs a change of environment sometimes But is it selfish to observe others as they appear and then disappear, to think about myself? I walked down the perpendicular streets of Wayne and Pratt with my thoughts askew, everything tangled into avenues and roads without bricks and a lapse of judgment. I missed them and the old concrete, to an existential point beyond my reach. All I have to do is keep walking
The body of our people lay within the atmosphere of Rogers Park, my handprints painted and printed into the playground They sit on the stone ledge in pink paint next to my sisters Whoever I never got to find out who, who left the nine footprints in the undried concrete they leave behind a mark which made me wonder What mark have I left? I mean it’s done so much for me though I’ve yet to do anything in return. It taught me how to ride a bike, and how to quit. How to navigate from point A to B, from A to Z. Many murals along the train tracks or benches show an unspoken history that my sidewalk chalk couldn’t. In return I need to attribute to something, maybe a book something someone can stumble upon A remnant of what heaven used to be
My life doesn't go far beyond Rogers Park beyond the paths traced by the Pottawatomi to the paths being traced by me and others Rogers Park since the 1800’s has built itself to the ground into the gem it is, with unique buildings from Frank Lloyd Wright and ornate and victorian bungalows or theaters filled with the crafty and spirited charm of its citizens. Although some of its eras have been unseen by me, I appreciate every step it took to create such a beautiful place I call home.
I searched everywhere for my place in perfection. I cherish every brick that has been built, even though I have never built any myself I have a strong connection to places like Armadillo's Pillow a bookstore where my childhood babysitter worked and Heartland Cafe, a community gem known for fashion shows and chocolate milk with ice As a kid, when I drank chocolate milk, I never thought about how the ice cubes would feel against the roof of my mouth, but that sensation was so distinct it would never melt Over time, I lived oblivious to the rain washing my life and my chalk drawings away from me. I watched signs flipped closed and gems shattered into rubble. I watched buildings replace one another until Sheridan Rd and Glenwood Ave became unrecognizable.
The core gradually turned against me The rain and dirt washing off my handprints and it was a sign I needed to talk to the heart of my home And so once again I searched I had nothing to do but search for an answer Wonder is what I’ve been doing since the start Since my parents brought me home from the hospital, since I’ve learned to walk, I never stopped Never stopped being myself in a world beyond a couple of blocks, because eventually block towers always tumble and that didn’t sit right with me. Neighbors the people around me act as the foundation of a leaning tower of blocks. I hope one day an opportunity will arise for me to show the amount of appreciation I do towards you.
Thanks, Liam Benham
AvailableReferences: ● TeddyNewton,EdnaModeConceptArt,February2002(firstimageinCortasia’s)
● CananBerber,Pomegranate,2018(thefirstlargepomegranateinAugust’s)
*Thisworkisnotintendedfordistributionandanyandallworksnotcitedareavailableatthe artistsrequest.
