Točka Issue I, August 2018.

toÄ?ka.

poetry | art | mental health awareness

issue 1, august 2018.

toÄ?ka.

1

head editor

nicole hsing.

associate editor jasmine cheek. assistant editor samuel lim. design head

melissa nawas.

contributers are listed in the back.

issue I. august 2018. all rights to these works are given to their authors. no portion of this work may be reprinted in any form without permission from the given authors or editors.

2

“No single word in English renders all the shades of točka. At its deepest and most painful, it is a sensation of great spiritual anguish, often without any specific cause.

At less morbid levels it is a dull ache of the soul, a longing with nothing to long for, a sick pining, a vague restlessness, mental throes, yearning.

In particular cases it may be the desire for somebody or something specific, nostalgia, love-sickness.

At the lowest level it grades into ennui, boredom.”

–Vladimir Nabokov 3

contents. hello

poetry. b.s.

s.l

a.m. c.h.

Requiem When I Was Young Clipped Wings Toujours Pomegranate Seeds The Virtuoso again wings of death missed opportunity sublimitĂŠ maniaque You Moved On

anonymous

half & half

d.m. & b.s. n.h.

gemini twins

my weapon, my paradise morning of the past my flame, suffer with me

written works. e.r.

love save me satan’s party

traditional artwork. m.n. d.c.

growth untitled drawing 1 drawing 2 drawing 3

digital artwork. d.c.

drawing 1

photography. e.m. a.c. k.v.

(Un)Masked Inner Demons Identity

music. j.c.

a playlist for the tender soul

j.k. and n.h.

a collection of songs for misadventures

hello. welcome to the minds of many brilliant, inspiring teenagers who have been strong enough to share their vulnerability. to share a piece of their story and be a voice for adolescents. here, you will find emotions we were told to never talk about: depression. heartbreak. anguish. pain. sadness. here, you will discover pieces of work that could never be replicated, because each is their own. mental health is a touchy subject. our goal is not to ask for pity, but instead understanding that pushes you start talking about these issues with those around you. whether that be your family, your friends, your school. we are not the unique cases, but we represent teenagers in our generation. we are your friends, your children, your nieces or nephews. we all come from different backgrounds, different families, but feel the same feelings. we are here to form one voice together, to create discussion and change. we are here to show that art can express powerful emotions, and help others how to deal with the struggles they feel. we are here to prove recovery can happen. whether it’s writing, painting, drawing, photography, or others, we are here to create a powerful statement to others who do not understand and help them feel our emotions. within these pages, you will find a collection of artwork created by teenagers of the ages 15 to 19. you will find music to comfort you. hopefully, you will feel as if you are not alone in your suffering . thank you, for taking the time to venture into emotions many choose to ignore. thank you, for listening to the voices that have been quiet for so long.

note: the artists’ names are initialized or anonymous to protect them. thank you and please be respectful of their works.

poetry. poetry. poetry. poetry. poetry. poetry.

b.s.

Requiem the little glass girl sat on a cliff, which the soft stroke of the ocean caressed the sunlight danced in her eyes glowing with the superficial strength of her hope the silky silhouette of her demon wrapped itself around her the angry waves dragged themselves over her vulnerable frame pulling her down to where the light could not reach the sunshine melted from her spirit, the glass turned dark a cold steel sky shed drops of agony disguised as the love she thought she shared fracturing, chipping, slowly deteriorating shards too small to see but sharp enough to cut too heavy to float, too dark to notice her edges smoothed over by the fury of the sea pushed back onto the shore until she could be dragged back once more

b.s.

When I was Young when i was young the cold steel sky wrapped her fingers around my throat digging into my soul with her livid lust while the sky cried the blood i shed it’s decrepit fingers squeezed at my pulse slipping over the smooth planes of my neck leaving bruises invisible to the naked eye the frail petals of the rose ceased to bloom giving life to the crying sky where death had lived

b.s.

Clipped Wings He's not going to change, so I will He's not going to change, so I have to When He hits, I'll sing When He bites, I'll scream Rows of my beliefs lay blue And countless new ones fall anew She never supposed it true But We spit blood on His shoe

b.s.

Toujours it stood still the candied apple car glazed with the crispness of ripe rain crystalline sliding, slipping a drop quivering in its depths the fullness of an unstirring universe the harmonious hum escaping from the lips of the breeze disrupting the graceful glimmer reflecting in those eyes unmoving yet all the same it stirs

b.s.

Pomegranate Seeds Pomegranate seeds hit the ground Throw enough and they'll make a sound Ruby red gems shed cries for help Their arms lay limp as if nothing is felt Each one gets smashed and marred and torn But for each seed fallen, it grows a thorn Completely crimson they leak a tear Until at last they can wash their flesh clear

b.s.

The Virtuoso Blood, a dark cerise sun above our heads, My outstretched hand cannot save all of them, We stitch up our hearts with needles and threads, The rose of death blooms crimson from its stem.

I try to save some, though I cross the line, This carnage brings immeasurable pain, Still, nothing hurts like those lost loves of mine, Fool myself not, there is no way I’m sane.

For each splatter of blood, he plays a note, A virtuoso, composing his piece, His fingers above the keys stay afloat, Listening close, a note he does release.

Loudly in protest, at last we disperse

s.l.

again For years I have been a slave to this dream, making me kneel I wanted to make it real But I stumble and trip on this road Only to get sidetracked Constantly being slowed I don’t want to go back, but can I get back what I lost?

I want to stop being used For the desires that have held me for years I don’t need your pity, I don’t need your tears I am lost in a maze of emotions Finding what I want is like searching the oceans But one thing I know to a degree Is that I have been running away from reality And dwelling too much on the past I've forgotten how to live now, please help remind me You've given me so many chances that I have passed But I have always been able to make it through again and again Going through the horror of reliving So help me to realize I still have a life worth living.

s.l.

wings of death If you go forth you’ll become a legend In time you will reach the sky and it will touch your heart Just once more to reach the destined The touch that you long for to restart Will embrace you if you take flight You are unaware of what fate will do If you follow the temptation within you Someday I hope Everyday I pray That you realize That those wings you have are not just a dream You have all you need to redeem To escape to the place where you will be free And find what you yearn to be They have been there from the start It is prophecy So go forth and become your counterpart.

s.l.

missed opportunity Their love was held long Yet no one knew It was only time until it went askew But as time went by And it was time to say goodbye For the next chapter to begin Their words sang like an out-of-tune violin Hey back then when I loved you I didn’t know you wanted to woo me too.

a.m.

sublimité maniaque Sunsets, a cosmos masterpiece; rose bloom, Brush dipping into fire, paint across the sky, Feet at rest, clouds no longer in gloom, The new moon in greeting, sun’s goodbye;

Wisps of flame, flutters of carnation petals, Heart strings, the twilight’s welcome song, Ruby mine, copper vein of precious metals, Night’s interrupted slumber, light still strong;

Peace and happiness and wonder and awe, California poppies, all focus upwards, Fireworks in air, abstract but no flaw, A red galaxy, feathers of birds, Purple dusk, stars’ entrance, silent earth, Land full of wonder, a planet’s mirth.

c.h.

You Moved On. You can say you don’t want to move on But you already have.

You moved on when you left me last year, When you wanted to feel something new.

You moved on when you threw me out like an old T-shirt, When you yelled at me like I was crazy for not letting go.

You moved on when you said the things you knew would hurt me, When you said you said them to hurt me.

You moved on when you saw my scarred wrists, And didn’t say a word.

You moved on when you threw your locket back in my face, But you still wear the thousands of dollars of clothes I bought you.

You moved on when I ran in front of a bus, You knew and didn’t even call.

You moved on when I swerved off the overpass, My car saved my life, you didn’t even notice.

You moved on when you sent my stuff back, You couldn’t even look me in the eye yourself.

You moved on when you picked him over me time and time again, You knew you were killing me, because I knew he wouldn’t be there for you.

You moved on when you knew I would have died for you, You couldn’t be bothered to make sure I was still breathing.

You moved on.

anonymous.

half & half half hair swept back both eyes bright and a beautiful iridescent blue her smile flashes like the light of stars around her she sees beauty and color the infinite possibilities the wonderful air around her look into her eyes and you’ll see them brimming with life painting every person she sees with colors colors of bold red deep blue and calm purple however many do not know the colors that she paints herself if only they knew half dark hair falls across half of her face covering her bright warm sky eye and all her wonderful features with the jagged lines of darkness her lush lips turn downwards as she casts a gaze looking at the puddles of salty rain her other eye is swirling black full of infinite space blinded by vast unknown the black trickles from the back of her mind into the front of her eyes in form of these mesmerizing swirls before long all she can see is darkness the black paints her entire being with only a little light trickling through the bars that lie in front of her bright beautiful teal eye

d.m. & b.s.

gemini twins Who is he?

My brother from the stars I feel like I dont matter Someone I would dive into a black hole for Just to show him the galaxies inside his mind I don’t feel much of anything really Just an emptiness The eyes of someone beautiful who has felt mountains crumble and the sky come crashing down upon him I don’t feel anything It’s more like I’m just there blankly staring The sun when all I can see are the crimson eyes Light when I am all dark I feel heavier like a cloud of darkness just hovering The red rose in my heart that knows what to do When my heart is slowing I don’t know what I’m thinking I take heavy sighs Someone who would take on all my darkness Just to let me see one star I don’t feel like I have a purpose I don’t feel like I care The twin I can never replace The one I can always feel in the warmth I don’t feel like I’m me I want to feel warm Who is he?

All my better qualities Am I me?

I’m just in the middle Why can’t he see.

Why am I like this.

n.h.

my weapon, my paradise Harp, the herald of angels; Heaven’s largesse, God’s intent gifted in vibrant arias; Supple euphony, sundering soul and flesh; Sublime notes, resonating like Boreas; Sedulous plucks soothe tender heart’s contusion, Unbound passion, Christ’s caressing voice, The fiend within flees Heaven’s intrusion; Exuberance emanates as notes rejoice; Stillness and tranquility and solace; Dissonance resolved, harmony concurred; Quintessential timbre, peace made flawless, The tepid breeze, the allured mockingbird, Painting stars at largo, the angel’s dream, The divine atmosphere; souls burst at their seams.

n.h.

morning of the past The birds chirp your feet touch the ground.

Outside you see the bright sun the bleak night rain floods that have become dew waiting to fall off the blades of grass— and soak into the dirt like a dripping faucet where the rain gets absorbed into the beautiful red roses.

If you see nature and its beauty you will glide along like dew falling from grass your mind will become full of hope and graceful beauty And if you see nature but only see its darkness the dark rains of night weighing down your thoughts— if all you can do is think of the wrong feeling the storm over your pained heart— you still have somewhere in your heart the sun hiding behind the clouds and rain trying to show the beauty all around you— every blade of grass covered in dew is reflecting the light glistening, for you each day, even if you do not wish to see the beauty and light, even if you do not wish to get rid of the ache in your heart.

n.h.

my flame, suffer with me build me people made of pottery and i’ll breathe life into them with my poetry. tell me how you love my soft sighs, and chocolate eyes my midnight treads, and silky threads that weave our people together. i’ll write the stories with prose and gold in the tapestries while you'll make the legends with torches and travesties. o Prometheus, o Prometheus, won’t you tell me through the chains and the great eagle’s claims through the eternal internal pains how much you love me?

written work. written work. written work. written work. written work. written work.

e.r.

love This image of love that we’re given. It’s a bad one. I want to get out of here.

Get me out of this place my friend. Loneliness floods my mind, challenging me to find a source of relief but how does one solve such a thing as loneliness? How does one solve pain. My friend this is not something a simple bandaid can take away. No this calls for something deeper, something more. Something I cannot provide for myself; I need someone to give it to me. And. That is where I am weak. I need someone else. I am not enough for myself. I want to be enough for myself. But my thought process is if I can’t be enough for someone else to just be my damn friend. Well. How can I possibly be enough for me to give self-love to. And I know I should be able to. Perhaps in the creation of me, something went wrong. Was I intended to turn out this way? But who am I to judge what is wrong and right. When I am always wrong and never right. The decisions I make, I regret. The decisions I fail to make, I regret. Disappointment ends up following me no matter what path I choose. The things I find joy and happiness in do not benefit me in the long term. The people I get close to, which are only a few at that, I always end up losing and it’s my fault of course. I think if I feel like this over a lost friend then I’m truly screwed when I finally get someone to love me enough to date me. But I do not even like myself so should that happen I’d always feel sorry for whoever that poor, beautiful girl is for falling for someone like me.

e.r.

save me Do I really want to die?

Or am I just using that as a shield for attention.

But I’m not telling people I want to die.

I’m not blatantly showing off how broken I am.

I actually do everything I can to hide my thoughts, my feelings.

I feel that what I truly want is to be saved.

By someone or something.

But right now I feel death can save me too.

Sometimes I sit back and stare in awe at how cruel this beautiful world can be

e.r.

satan’s party The room is full of laughter and yet I’m silent.

The music is blasting but I can’t really hear it.

The lights are on and bright and colorful but it feels so dark.

The only thing keeping me company is this juice.

It’s just the chaser for the hennessy which I killed way too damn soon.

My thoughts are my demons who crashed this party.

This would-be escapade has just become another hell.

But with the plant in my system my demons take form and this cloud nine makes a blackout as I pass out.

Wake up with tears in my eyes and I know that cycle will begin the next night.

traditional art. traditional art. traditional art. traditional art. traditional art. traditional art.

m.n.

Growth.

m.n.

Growth this piece of work reprsents new changes within myself. the beginning of my recovery and growth as not only an artist, but also as a human. it marked the start of my self-love, after countless childhood years struggling against mental health issues and demons within myself. each sunflower represents something that has grown from the nutrients filled soil, my skin. some of the sunflowers are fully budded, aspects of myself that have already grown in the very beginning of my journey towards a new chapter of my life. and some are just starting to unearth from the soil, parts of myself i have yet to discover.

m.n.

unititled.

m.n.

Untitled throughout my life, i have struggled to create human connection. often, i found myself becoming too attatched to certain people. it almost felt as if i could not escape, and i began to feel strangled by the need what they gave me and their prescence more. this need for others is represented by the octopus. while some of its arms appear to be freely lingering in the air, the others are stuck on my upper body. it lays its suctioned legs around my neck, and even lips to the point where i cannot speak without its prescence there. i can always feel the need to have it there, and the power it holds over me.

d.c.

décès.

d.c.

dÊcès. i created this piece to channel my emotions into a symbol all can recognize. the skull represents the end of life, and our final piece that is left on earth after we are gone. sometimes my emotions leave me feeling almost empty, and getting them onto paper help me express how i truly feel to others and myself. it feel almost like a journey, and by the end i feel complete and like myself again.

spirit animal. d.c.

spirit animal. d.c.

this girl. d.c.

d.c.

this girl. i often find myself drawing and sketching late at night, trying to find solace in my thoughts by drawing them out. the quote at the top is a fragment of my thoughts, and i use it to create a piece like this.

digital art. digital art. digital art. digital art. digital art. digital art.

digital art.

my light. d.c.

my light. d.c.

d.c.

my light. although these two paintings may seem a bit out of place, i often find happiness in animals such as dogs. the innocence of them often brings me joy, even when i do not feel at my best.

photography. photography. photography. photography. photography. photography.

e.p. (Un)Masked.

e.p.

(Un)Masked My concentration, (Un)Masked, demonstrates the complexity of understanding one’s identity.

I explore the idea of the masks we wear & hope to discard. (Un)Masked reveals the tender, fractured aspects of one’s perspective of self & the complex nuances of self discovery.

Inner Demons. A.C.

a.c.

Inner Demons I explore negative feelings such as self-doubt, loneliness & depression that teens face in contemporary society.

Specifically, I document these ideas through their body language, strategic framing and point of view, & the absence of visible identities. In order to drive my message, I use dramatic lighting, lack of clothing, and double exposures to reveal deterioration and struggle. My photos emote the truth that everyone is struggling with their own “inner demon.�

k.v.

Identity.

music. music. music. music. music. music.

j.c.

music and emotions I shy away from being vulnerable. The less people know about me, the better. It’s not entirely intentional, and most of it stems from my irrational fear of being criticized for having someone know everything about me, including my weaknesses. Yet, I assume that, for whoever is reading this, that sounds a little abnormal. I mean isn’t the dream to have someone who inherently gets you and “knows you better than yourself”? I don’t know, maybe it’s just me, or maybe there are other people who feel the same way, but all my life there’s been a negative connotation surrounding vulnerability and honesty and as much as I’ve tried to avoid it, prove it wrong, I’m afraid I’ve become a victim to it. My struggle with anxiety doesn’t help either. It makes it difficult for me to openly display my feelings to people without suffering from the inevitable bouts of paranoia and dwelling on whether or not they’re going to try to use what I told them against me. As a matter of fact, the thought of being sincere and transparent with my feelings is making my heart race as I’m typing. I’m aware that the way I’m describing myself makes me come across as a cold, some might even say heartless, person; however, I’m not. I cherish nothing more than the moments where I can be there for someone and listen to their problems flow from their mouth as if they don’t have a filter, but there’s always something stopping me from doing the same. My fear of fully expressing my emotion forces me to find an outlet for the loneliness within my mind. Enter music. Music possesses the ability to transport me between two differentrealities. The first one being my actual life (which is typically filled with stress, anxiety, and deprecating humor), and the second one being the perfect world within my mind. I know, I know, it sounds cliché, but as someone who finds it difficult to communicate in the real world, music is my confidant.

A release, if you must. I typically avoid sharing my music because it’s a direct portrayal of my heart. My relationship with music is deeper than finding lyrics I resonate with. It’s about how the song itself helps me feel less alone or, sometimes, lets me slip into this subconscious part of my mind where I can take a deep breath and just be myself. I think I love music because it lets me be vulnerable, and that’s something that a lot of kids my age don’t get, even if they don’t struggle with honesty and transparency. I know for a fact that there is no way I can accurately convey how I feel about music and how it helps me, because there are genuinely not enough words in the english vocabulary and even if there were I don’t know them. Music is an outlet and an escape, and by sharing a small part of mine I am sharing a small part of my heart, so please, be gentle with it.

j.c.

a playlist for the tender soul access this spotify playlist at: http://bit.do/tendersoul.

song list: Mockingbirds

by Grant Lee Buffalo

World Spins Madly On

by The Weepies

La Lune

Smother

by Daughter

Suggestions

by Orelia Has Orchestra

Promise

by Billie Marten

by Ben Howard

Mothers

Deep Water

To Build a Home

You Are a Memory

by Daughter

by Patrick Watson

Saturn

by The Middle East

by Message to Bears

Everything Has Grown

by Sleeping At Last

by Colouring

We Never Change

Heartbeats

A Lack of Color

Poor Boy

Save You

Naked As We Came

by Coldplay

by Death Cab for Cutie

by Matthew Perryman Jones

by Jose Gonzalez

by Blind Pilot

by Iron & Wine

j.k. and n.h.

a collection of songs for misadventures listen to these on any platform of your choosing.

song list: Georgia

by Vance Joy

I Will Be There

by ODESZA

Breakeven

by The Script

Ain’t Nobody Takin’ My Baby

by Russ

Flaregunes

by Quinn XCII

~ How to Live

by Keepitinside

Picture Frames

by Sophie Meiers

hostage

by Billie Eilish

contributors. b.s. s.l a.m. c.h. anonymous d.m. & b.s. n.h. e.r. m.n. d.c. e.p. a.c. k.v. j.c. j.k.