Blue Ink Winter 2023 Edition

WINTER 2023

Index

Articles 3

Short Story 10

Poems 14

Visual Arts 19

Curiosities 20

Editor's Note

Dear readers,

I hope your semester has been going well so far. The Blue Ink had a rough start this year, but it's now up and running after being inactive for a year. I can promise you this: it won't die on my watch. Anywho, as you all know, finals are coming up, but fear not, I come bearing gifts - a Blue Ink edition that will take your mind off that impending doom for a little while So, please enjoy my first edition I wish you all the best and good luck in your finals

Happy holidays, Valentine Nneji Chers lecteurs,

J'espère que votre semestre se déroule bien jusqu'à présent. le Blue Ink a connu un début difficile cette année, mais il est maintenant opérationnel après avoir été inactif pendant un an. Je peux vous promettre ceci : il ne mourra pas sous ma surveillance. Quoi qu'il en soit, comme vous le savez tous, les examens finaux arrivent, mais ne craignez rien, je viens avec des cadeaux - une édition de The Blue Ink qui vous distraira de cette menace imminente pendant un petit moment Alors, profitez de ma première édition. Je vous souhaite tout le meilleur et bonne chance pour vos examens finaux.

Joyeuses fêtes, Valentine Nneji

ARTICLES

Denise Albert: “We’re doing this for you”

Valentine Nneji Editor-in-Chief

Denise Albert, President of the Champlain College Teachers Association gives us some insight into the strikes.

The Champlain teachers are members of the Champlain College Teachers Association (CCTA), which is affiliated with the Fédération nationale des enseignantes et enseignants du Québec (FNEEQ), operating under the umbrella of the Confédération des syndicats nationaux (CSN), one of the biggest unions in Quebec Together with the other major

unions such as the CSQ, FTQ, and APTS, they collectively form the Front commun. So, whenever the Front commun decides to strike, the CCTA and the Champlain College Support Staff Union must participate, contributing to a combined workforce of 420,000 workers. With inflation on a continuous rise and wages failing to match this trend, public sector workers find it imperative to strike. The proposed 9% salary increase over 5 years by the government falls short of meeting their needs To provide context, a teacher starting with

a bachelor's degree earns $46,000 annually, while one starting with a master's degree earns $52,000. The 9% increase equates to approximately a $4,500 rise over 5 years, averaging $900 per year. Teachers have various financial obligations such as mortgage payments, car loans, and other bills, which are significantly affected by inflation, especially due to increased interest rates. The proposed government increase will not match the rising prices over the years A mere $4,500 increment fails to incentivize individuals to pursue a career in teaching, particularly when

Teachers and support staff striking on November 6

Photo taken by Aradhya Khare

ARTICLES

recruitment numbers are already low. Consequently, this increase does little to address the issue. Teachers are likely to face heightened workloads under these circumstances. Continuing to work under these conditions becomes increasingly challenging for them

Moreover, teachers simply seek fairness in compensation. It's striking that our representatives in l’Assemblée Nationale recently granted themselves a 30% salary increase, while making a minimum of $100,000. This substantial raise amounts to around $30,000, which is 445% more than what a newly hired teacher will receive. If such a significant increase is feasible for Members of Parliament, it should certainly be possible to allocate funds for public workers striving to make ends meet during these challenging times. Requesting a 30% raise while earning a minimum of $100,000 suggests that “you created expenses you don’t need”.

If you believe in their cause and want to support them, you can raise awareness by wearing red on Wednesdays and repost on social media posts pertaining to the strikes. If you want to be more involved get out there and “join [us] on the picket line and make some noise! [We] outnumber them 10 to 1.”

Before we conclude, Denise and Yannick Legault (Vice-President of the CCTA) did their best to accommodate us and took necessary steps to ensure we didn't lose our semester. Furthermore, it's untrue if you think that throughout the strike, the staff would just unwind at home. To be eligible for reimbursement from their strike fund not all unions have one they must take part in the strike That reimbursement only “[covers] enough so that they can feed themselves”. So, the question for us now is: “What do you want for yourself in five years? Do you want to be making 55 000$ a year with no purchasing power or do you want to be part of the movement”

ARTICLES

American Psycho: Unmasking the Discomfort of the Perfect Psychopath

Malaïka Lavoie Contributor

Materialism. Misogyny. Classism. An atmosphere is walking on a fine line between the reality of the mind of a disturbed narcissism in a way that is both disturbing and comfortable. This is American Psycho, the perfect psychopath.

American Psycho is an American thriller based on Bret Easton Ellis’ novel and directed by Mary Harron. It portrays the story of Patrick Bateman, a wealthy and successful investment banker from Wall Street, New York City. Patrick and his colleagues are obsessed with success, status and style. Despite the public’s alterations to this successful film, I admire this cult movie Yes, Christian Bale’s character is now synonymous with “sigma male” for my

generation, but somehow, American Psycho is exceptional. Terrifying, yes, but extraordinary. I have not yet had the opportunity to read the novel (which is closed in bookstores, forbidding clients to read the pages unless they buy it). Still, I am sure Patrick Bateman’s character would terrify me.

Patrick Bateman, the main character in the story, is presented as a sophisticated, well-educated, and attractive young man who works in the high-stakes world of Wall Street during the 1980s He exudes an air of confidence and success, evident in his impeccably tailored wardrobe, fine dining knowledge, and ability to navigate complex financial transactions easily He is obsessed with physical perfection, upscale restaurants, 80s pop music, sex, money and power. Moreover, the movie begins by exhibiting the glamorous and splendid life of Patrick Bateman: daily facial routine, fitness routine, expensive food, and impeccable penthouse. Despite his charming exterior, there is a dark and troubled side to Patrick, which gradually emerges throughout the

narrative. Under this façade of perfection, Bateman takes pleasure in killing people.

Bateman’s psychotic desire to kill takes over exponentially. Whether they are co-workers, cheap prostitutes, dogs or itinerants, he engages throughout the picture in ruthless acts of violence for his amusement. All of his victims are murdered in a twisted manner, highlighting Patrick’s perverted violence. But it eventually becomes too much for him; he then begins to lose himself in his madness, becoming increasingly paranoid and schizophrenic. Even with all of those psychotic events, Bateman’s biggest strength is his coldness, filled with emotional detachment.

The end of the film is to be interpreted. The last scene is played between Patrick and his lawyer, Harold Carnes On the verge of losing himself, Bateman confesses to Carnes all the despicable acts he performed previously. However, the latter does not seem to take this information seriously Some say that Bateman imagined everything in his mind, while others are convinced that he indeed killed

Patrick Bateman in American Psych portrayed by Christian Bale

ARTICLES

all those innocent victims; he only managed to get away with the crimes because society is so corrupted by power and wealth that it can no longer recognize the truth.

Patrick Bateman’s casual cruelty and violent sadism are crucial elements of his characterization, therefore reflecting his iconic status in pop culture The carnage he caused is a direct example of American Psycho’s dominant metaphor: violence, the perfect substitute for corporate greed.

The murder frenzy in American Psycho begins with Bateman’s behaviour; he is constantly selective and deliberate, but it will eventually intensify. This directly parallels Bateman’s ruthless corporate conduct in his Wall Street world.

Christian Bale’s symbolic performance has ensured American Psycho, a cult lasting for over two decades. It is by far one of his best performances yet Patrick Bateman indulges his most violent impulses, acting perfectly on each of his sadistic urges while performing his flawless lifestyle on Wall Street. Plus, what would be a good murderer if he did not share his love for 80s music and slaughtering someone with the axe? Incidentally, the film was just as controversial as Ellis’ novel – even the author considered Bateman’s emotional fall into depravity and madness too shocking for cinema. That is when you know you have a cinematography gem with us

Over the last year, TikTok has seen a proliferation of trends based on mentalities or personality types that are supposed to offer a way to solve the dilemmas of modern capitalism Followers of this emerging movement reject contemporary feminism and claim empowerment stems from adherence to rigid gender roles. Therefore, the “Sigma Male” was born, and nothing could stop it. Contrary to popular belief, I believe the author initially mocked individuals like Patrick Bateman You cannot convince me that Patrick’s lifestyle came out of the blue; those lives were authentic and still are.

ARTICLES

Why is physical activity so important?

Mavi Kallianiotis Sports Correspondant

Starting at a young age, we are told how physical activity is imperative to good health. We are exposed to team sports on a day-to-day basis, from movies to the news. However, in 2018 and 2019 the Canadian Health Measures Survey (CHMS) revealed that only 49.2% of Canadian adults from the age of 18 to 79 meet the recommended amount of physical activity which is of at least 2.5h per week.

The World Health Organization’s (WHO) studies have proven that exercising prevents and helps manage noncommunicable diseases such as heart diseases, strokes, diabetes, and several cancers. Thus, it is shocking that such a minuscule number of individuals truly achieve the number of hours recommended

Engaging in athletic activities does not solely aid in corporeal well-being but additionally improves your mental. Halifax Health asserts that there are 8 main mental benefits to athletics that have been scientifically proven.

1. Exercise can help regulate the chemical that impacts mental health (serotonin), and it affects your mood positively because it stimulates the neurotransmitter and norepinephrine.

2. Endorphins are released during physical activity which lowers the levels of cortisol (the stress hormone).

3 It diminishes the rates of anxiety, stress, depression, and suicidal behavior.

4. When an adolescent engages in collaborative athletic pursuits it proven that there are fewer risks of substance abuse and other reckless behaviors.

5 Resilience, empathy, confidence, and empowerment are heightened by team sports.

6. Commitment in sports facilitates the acquisition of teamwork skills and nurtures a sense of social responsibility.

7 Numerous physical activities take place outdoors, thus it compels people to venture outside and inhale fresh air which benefits their well-being.

8. Individuals who engage in regular physical activity experience improved sleep and quality sleep is essential to good mental health

Physical activity should be a crucial element of daily life for individuals across all age groups. It can prevent a plethora of diseases and it can contribute to mental well-being Encouraging children to discover a sport that captures their interest at an early age is crucial, and adults should strive to maintain a similar level of physical activity.

ARTICLES

Serve, Drop, Drive, Net, Smash!

Chi Zhang Contributor

DID YOU KNOW THAT CHAMPLAIN COLLEGE HAS A BADMINTON TEAM? AND OUR TEAM IS CO-ED!

To begin with, badminton is not an “anglicisme” (thanks to my French course UF0)

Badminton is the fastest racket sport in the world. The current Guinness World Record for the fastest shot is held by Malaysian superstar Tan Boon Heong at 493 kilometres per hour According to the International Federation of Sport for All, badminton is also one of the most popular sports in the world and, since its inclusion in the Olympic programme in 1992, has been widely practised throughout

the world, with more than 200 million participants. The sport is characterized by highintensity intermittent activity in five disciplines (men’s and women’s singles, men’s and women’s doubles, and mixed doubles) and requires specialized preparation in terms of technique, mental control, and physical fitness Playing badminton has a significant impact on physical health, such as improving physiological functions (increased motivation and HDL cholesterol, lowering blood pressure and resting heart rate), improving basic physical fitness, and improving the psychological and social health of individuals according to David Cabello-Manrique

Across Quebec, Réseau du sport étudiant du Québec (RSEQ) has two leagues at the CEGEP level: Ligues Nord-Est and Ligues Sud-Ouest. The Champlain Cavaliers Badminton team participates in Ligues Sud-Ouest. In Ligues Sud-Ouest, there are two divisions which are Division 1

Nathan Comeau playing men’s single

ARTICLES

(D1), and Division 2 (D2) For 2023-2024, six CEGEPS are competing with the Cavaliers, including Collège Jean-deBrébeuf, Dawson College, Cégep de Valleyfield, Cégep Gérald-Godin, Collège Montmorency, and Cégep Marie-Victorin. Currently, the Cavaliers are in the third position after Dynamiques (representing Collège Jean-deBrébeuf) and Blues (representing Dawson College) Three tournaments are down, and three more to go (feel free to come and support us)! After the Cavaliers won both League & Regional Titles in 2021, what will the Cavaliers accomplish? Let’s wait and see! For more information or if you want to join our team, please contact our head coach, Ethan Wu, and follow our Instagram account: Champlain Cavaliers Badminton Last but not least, the golden retriever from the confessions is on the badminton team!

Yue Ning Wang (left) and Loreen Chen Kuang Piao (right) playing women’s double.

Noah Tanguay playing men’s single.

Andrew Tanguay playing men’s single

Clayton Tzin Kwan Cheung (left) and Vassante Mattéo Monany (right) playing men’s double.

Photos by Chi Zhang

STORY

Killing Leisurely

Marlyne Myriam Tchassem Loudjom Contributor

I went to work today and they fired me Nothing I could say would make it change I then went home sad and ashamed, of the unfortunate decision they had just made. Anyhow, I couldn’t stop. Wake, work, write, ride back with your rights No work, no rights, is how it goes, is how we flow in this society As I walked, I thought “What will I do tomorrow?” There is no today. I had to think ahead, find something that I would do instead. “Oh I forgot, I am getting married tomorrow ”

I would get married and find something to do the day after

I took my car and flew to town hall By the time I arrived, my father, his woman and the girl had signed the papers of marriage ownership, only my part was left. Father welcomed me

–

Here are your papers The certificate will arrive shortly, so you can stay with

– Dawn, my name is Dawn SMACK! And a slap from my parent’s sturdy hand to her delicate face. Surprisingly it did not cry or even shudder as my father spewed his venomous anger

– Did I permit you to speak?

– I apologize for my misconduct.

– Did I allow you to apologize or talk even, he hissed He was mad, angry, furious His dry

skin chapped all over his thin but wavy body His hand grasped its throat like would a boa to her prey I wanted him to stop Why, I don’t know, yet I wanted him to.

– It’s fine father, I shall discipline it. He loosed his grip

– Make it as obedient as mine then He smiled, or should I describe it as a smirk with his two fangs in sight He activated his woman’s collar and walked outside. I would receive one too, to keep my girl on leash.

We received the certificate and left the building I had to search for a job, something to do I didn’t want to lose my rights. I showed it my house.

– Here is the kitchen

– I will cook and eat my own food, and so will you

– Here is our bedroom

– I won’t sleep or have sex with you

– Now wear your collar and I’ll

– No, I won’t run away but get this chain away from me.

I didn’t have time to discuss so I quickly headed for the door

– Where are you going?

“What a personality it had,” I thought exasperated. “Roaring a second and smiling the next ”

– To find myself a job

– They are lying to you, you know And as bluntly as she said those words, she turned around and left.

***

To the streets, I went and asked a man “Do you have a job for me?” He proceeded to give me an ax and point the nearest tree:

“Cut those trees for Mali, it will help poor families ”

To every foret I went, chopped and chanted until sunset:

“Cut the trees, Cut the trees, Make some paper, Help Mali ”

In an unexpected way, I was told to carve out bows and arrows the next day. As I carved, I heard its voice: “They are lying to you, you know ” And I slowed down, for a fraction of a second, and got fired I went home scared and guilty I almost stopped I had slowed down, for the first time I had slowed down. What happens when you stop? “You die a horrible death” Father says

***

It was standing in the door frame staring at the broken moon.

– What did you do today, it asked – I helped families in Mali

Its eyes turned into question marks – I cut trees and built bows and arrows.

– How can bows and arrows help families?

I systematically chanted: “Cut the trees, Cut the trees,

SHORT STORY

Make some paper, Melp Mali”

It laughed, a light yet heavily ironic chuckle

“You are of the worst species”

It continued laughing

“Listen to me, it should be:

‘Cut the trees, Cut the trees, Spark war

Take the treasures.’”

So it, I mean she, left.

***

When I left the next day, she was still asleep. I could hear her soft purring. Her tigress soul now seemed so harmless, it confused me. I had no time to stare I had nothing to do I kept slowing down I had to go I had to move

A man on the street screamed and shouted “Serve your country, be revolutionary ” I looked and I liked so to war I went I had to do something to pay the rent I packed and prepared food for the war ahead As I left, I glanced at her once more. She was holding a bizarre object.

– What foul thing do you hold in your hands? I inquired

– It is a book from the 21th century She distractedly said

– Why do you dwell in such a past? We are way past that.

– A place where equality was valued and books allowed people to dream

A time where I could find my Juliet and that I wouldn’t be your possession.

– It is useless to fantasize of a

destiny eternally out of your reach.

– Well, let me dwell as I smile hoping to leave this hell She finally looked at me, however her eyes were filled with judgment

– Where are you heading off to this time?

– I am serving the country, being revolutionary

– You’re still a fool I see All that free time should be spent spreading glee Free time? I had to do something. I shouldn’t have free time. I never stopped, I had to find something to do Don’t I always have to do something, whatever it is? What happens when you stop?

I left and flew my car to the base. We were crammed in a plane and handed guns

After pointing the almond-eyed enemies Le Général shouted: “Shoot and kill, take bullets and refill.” I was taught and fought until he noticed me. He put me behind a big machine as he screamed from the top of his lungs “War, kill and spar! Behind the bombs, fire bombard!” I heard her once more as she whispered: “You’re still a fool I see.” I examined the other side, as those “dangerous enemies” fell and cried The bright red button stared at me intently Le Général pressed the button himself The missile spat gas and vomited its deadly projectile He then looked at me and said “You had been given the greatest honneur, go back and learn to murder ” It was done After all that, it was over No one died on our side, most had fun Only two weeks of war, but I was

happy it was over I had nothing to do, but still felt…good.

What a weird thought?

***

I returned to parades and honours I had worked so I could vote. I woke, I worked, I wrote and rode back with my rights. Stu Pidliar was at the end of his term and was against Awor StLiar and Realh O’Nesty I hadn’t watched the debates, no one ever did. I still had to choose as people wanted my opinion. I went home and examined their pictures. Stu Pidliar was old, but his smile brought me joy Awor St-Liar was younger and more handsome, surely fit for the job

Realh O’Nesty was the worst, skinny and scrawny, he was obviously not the country’s best choice.

– I hope you vote for Realh O’Nesty He is in favor of equality between races, genders, and social statuses She stipulated

– Equality? This world is already so fair. No one has suffered for as long as I lived.

– What about me?

– You are not even human

She slapped me I looked up to the sight of a tear strolling down her cheek. I was conflicted, surprised. Why did she care so much? As I went to publicly announce my choices, I dismissed those thoughts “I should slap her back next time ” Is all I noted. My mouth screamed like Le Général’s.

– Vote Awor St-Liar! Vote Awor St-Liar! – I will vote for him too, said a man – Me too!

SHORT STORY

– Me too!

Unsurprisingly, Awor St-Liar won with 83% of the votes I went back home proud and content of my decision Realh O’Nesty was found dead the next day.

***

During the evening, Le Général passed by my house. The government, for our well-being, knows everything from our health to our sleeping schedule, so I wasn’t surprised to see him this late

– Have you learned how to kill?

– Yes sir.

I was lying through my teeth. She, in the kitchen, saw right through me but stayed silent

– I have a job for you I doesn’t involve too much kill

– I’m in I interrupted

– Protect our people, keep them legal.

– Well count me in, Sir He turned to the kitchen

– It’s a fine girl that you have there He kept looking and I understood the problem so I promptly said.

– I let her off leash when I’m with her. Apparently it helps them live longer.

– Oui oui, I heard about that too He seemed satisfied with my answer and therefore turned back to face me.

– See you at the police station tomorrow.

– Have a good day, Sir

– Yes, au revoir !

As he flew away, she was glaring at me. With darts as eyes, I could

almost smell the smoke leaving her ears

– You keep me off leash “at night” !

– I am your master and he wanted an answer.

– Why couldn’t you say that I simply don’t wear a chain?

– Now you are going to lower your tone, woman?

– Woman, wo-man? You don’t even know my name!

– I do.

– What is it then?

I reflected What was her name? She continued mercilessly

– You are the one blindfolded by society, unable to stop. When you do stop it is because you were forced to. You ruin this world with your compulsive need to act No thinking, just acting You believe the lies that are told by liars Shut

– You are afraid of stopping Up

– …for you were never taught to think

Shut up

– or to even have

– Shut up!

A blow from my sturdy arm to her porcelain face, a kick from my boot to her slim waist My hand pulled her hair and raised her to my face, but I looked at her They were green, her eyes were green like venom framed with hair red as fire. She did not smile or cry, as she looked me dead in the eyes and said:

“ an opinion You are just like the rest” I let her go She went back to the kitchen standing tall, not once looking back.

“You are just like the rest ” Six meaningless words and yet I stood immobile and feeling guilty. It is recommended to discipline your girl, and yet I kneeled looking at my hands like I would look at a wolf With fear, fear that those hands weren’t mine and that this mind didn’t act from my orders. I didn’t have time though. Tomorrow I would go to protect our people ***

I arrived there the next day. I forgot about last night, I had to. They handed me a revolver and a few other weapons They taught how to use them and left me on the street: “They look suspect, perfect they must be wrecked.” With minimal moral training, I was left to protect. I was the intellect, I decided if they were incorrect I checked and corrected our loyal subjects I ran around killing the defects just like they would expect. A scream is heard. No, a cry, a cry created by horror. I run, where? Don’t block my way or I will dissect your neck I found him I found them Men in a crowd all screaming and running

– Please I plead, call the police! A Black is off leash!

– Where?

– Did it infect me?

– Don’t touch me

– Please I plead, call the police! A Black is off leash!

I look and see, my house, who dares cause such ruckus in front of my house They will pay for what they’ve

SHORT STORY

done I tell people to move aside I make my way through the crowd and see it Automatically my mouth shouts “Hands where I can see them!” It turns to face me. I stare in its cold dark eyes, no light or spark, empty My hands point the gun as my eyes search for its collar My finger is ready to shoot

– Stop!

It’s her. She runs towards the scene.

– What are you doing here? Get back inside.

She brushes my order off My voice asks for reinforcement through the radio

– Are you mad? What has he done to you?

– It should be on leash, I respond Police cars land around us, crushing the bystanders in their way Le Général walks over to handle the situation.

– Shoot him!

My finger pulls the trigger. Its body regurgitates blood and thuds on the floor

– Why? she screams

She runs to the, now dead, body Le Général advances towards her.

– Aren’t you off leash little girl?

– I never wear a leash

He turns around I pretend to be surprised He then handcuffs her – Sir, I can take it from here.

– I’m not sure of that young man. It seems to have bewitched you. He puts the gun to her head and says:

– Any last words?

She turns to me I can sense no regret in her eyes.

– Stop, stop and look at what you

have caused Look at your victims Victims of your deadly leisure, as it brings you to do without thinking Look at how you can’t even criticize the world as they pry on your naivete. Look at how you need to do so much not to have to think and actually contemplate the world’s issue That leisure they create for you to hate and then make you do whatever they want. It will not kill you to stop. Look and see this hell

POW! I scream.

“DAWN!” Her name was Dawn Le Général walked to his car – Trop de commotion for such a useless object.

I ran to the body. I stopped. I looked. The curtains fell. I woke up. I saw. The bombs hidden by planes riding the sky I saw the dark unfiltered air caused by the lack of trees I heard the cries of almond-eyed prisoners I saw the poverty caused by Awor StLiar’s greed. I smelled the bloody scent of the dead bodies of innocent men and women on the street I saw her, I saw Dawn Dawn who had awakened me was now dead, as dead as all I caused.

As I closed the door, I could hear, at the back of my head:

“Go to sleep, go to sleep, trust and follow like a sheep ”

Suddenly, Awor St-Liar’s party’s plane flew hanging a poster for all to read “Fake news, fake news, got to stop all this abuse.”

I read.

I laughed.

I laughed at the joke Dawn had made I laughed at the joke Dawn was Why would she lie like that?

It is so mean of it to do so I left the body and went home.

POEMS

Blissful escape

Ayah Sumaya

Contributor

Just talk and talk into the void, until

A little squeaky voice comes back around

Trying to distinguish the sound, I go still.

And slowly, the voice keeps growing profound.

As the seconds turn into minutes, I talk to it, it answers

As the minutes turn into hours, I slowly lose my manners.

Not keeping track of time, I talk, I sing, and I dance to it.

And every single time, it makes me happier than I’d care to admit

Forgetting how it came to happen, I thank the universe.

I thank it for the chance it gave me, for the pleasure.

As my ego inflates, and my happiness becomes too much to measure,

I beware of taking it for granted, sometimes the act making me nervous.

However, I always go back to the tunnel.

The tunnel where all my insecurities are nothing.

The tunnel where my feelings are full of chuckle.

The tunnel that keeps my mouth up and cheeks blushing

POEMS

Shattered

Anonymous

Contributor

Imagine if everything was always fine

No heartbreaks, no pain, no arguments

How could we enjoy the sun when we’ve never seen the rain?

How could I enjoy your smile when I’ve never seen your tears…

Just like dark and light,

We cannot know joy without sadness

But unfortunately

Joy sometimes leave the ship for too long Sadness then makes it way into our core

Conquering our heart and our brain Game over

Your body is drowning in this feeling

Your limbs and mind can’t fight it

Won’t fight it!

There are no tears left to cry

You go mad

You crack

You scream

You scratch

Scratch your skin untill your fingers bleed

It hurts

But nothing like that other pain

THIS pain you control

You are the master

And that power keep you doing

The right hand can’t scratch anymore

It’s okay here comes the left

And then, what about scissors

A fork?

A knife…

And you keep on going

Keep on going ’till you go too far

-@artistic. .feels

forgotten

Anonymous Contributor

Today you came up in my discussion

And I felt myself spiraling again

But when I typed your name

My autocorrector changed it

It forgot you

And I got reminded

That I should too

-@artistic feels

POEMS

Palestine Today

Ihsaan Ahmed Contributor

I had an amazing time with my friends, We shared stories and we laughed; we enjoyed our time spent

But it does not feel right, I should rather stand up and fight.

I feel bad hearing laughs when Palestinians hear cries.

I feel bad hearing birds when Palestinians hear flies I feel bad hearing the wind when Palestinians hear screams.

I feel bad having a tomorrow when Palestinians have no dreams.

I feel bad seeing colors when Palestinians see grey I feel bad seeing my loved ones when Palestinians see theirs as being Israel’s prey.

I feel bad seeing rivers when Palestinians see blood.

I feel bad enjoying my day when Palestinians dig their graves.

I feel bad touching grass when Palestinians touch ashes.

I feel bad having a roof when Palestinians’ shelter crashes.

I feel bad having a healthy body when Palestinians search for their dismembered families

I feel bad having dreams when Palestinians have to face realities.

I feel bad smelling food when Palestinians smell fire.

I feel bad tasting freedom when Palestinians live in danger.

I feel bad anticipating goals when Palestinians anticipate death.

I feel bad taking breathing for granted when Palestinians expect their last breath.

I feel bad running to work when Palestinians run to hide.

I feel bad running for ambitions when Palestinians run for their lives

I feel bad enjoying songs when Palestinians are killed by bombs.

I feel bad hearing Israel’s false accusations when Palestinians are victims of genocide.

I feel bad uncovering my thoughts when Palestinians’ sufferings are veiled

I feel bad crying after a long day when Palestinians have no tears left to shed.

I feel bad listening to the media’s silence when Palestinians’ voice exists.

I feel bad knowing Israel is thriving when Palestinians are called terrorists

I feel bad living in a country that supports the oppressor, When Palestinians’ misery is being hidden under the radar.

I feel bad for my surroundings being indifferent, When Palestinians’ lives matter

But I do not feel bad being informed and alert. Slowly but surely the victims will be heard. And one day, the world will celebrate victory, When Palestine will be free Image

POEMS

Ce n’est pas votre histoire.

Ihsaan Ahmed

Contributor

Ce n’est qu’un enfant, Habitué au rouge des océans, Au noir des villages et au gris de l’air, Jamais il n’a vu la beauté de la Terre.

Ce n’est qu’un enfant, Mais il a dû grandir très rapidement.

Son territoire, peu à peu, est détruit, Depuis 1948, des inconnus l’ont envahi.

N’est-ce pas qu’un enfant?

Pourquoi donc doit-il vivre de cette façon ?

Ne pas avoir une voix dans les médias, Ne pas pouvoir faire part des souffrances infligées depuis la Nakba.

Mais c’est tout de même un enfant, Ayant devant lui possibilités et aspirations Toutefois, il ne pense qu’aux menaces et aux fusils, N’ayant d’autre choix que de se sauver pour sa vie.

Pourtant, c’est un enfant.

Pourquoi a-t-il connu le bruit des tirs et des explosions ?

Sa douleur est insignifiante aux yeux des journalistes.

Qu’importe! L’enfant est un terroriste.

Il ne faut pas oublier que c’est un enfant, Vulnérable face aux affrontements violents, Il a peur, il veut se cacher, il te regarde, il te tend la main

Tu refuses de l’aider, c’est un Palestinien.

Sais-tu que c’est un enfant ? Il n’a rien fait de mal.

Mais il est une cible du génocide, destinée à une fin fatale.

Plusieurs innocents disent adieu à cette vie, Car Israël veut s’emparer d’une terre qui n’est pas à lui.

Hélas, c’est un enfant, Souhaitant de vivre normalement.

Sans des corps démembrés et des maisons brûlées,

Mais il n’a nulle part où aller.

Silence de ténèbres, silence de nuits, Tu délaisse l’enfant; les médias disent que c’est sa faute,

Silence de ténèbres, silence de nuits, Un coup de feu retentit et explose ses côtes.

Pas un autre bruit de feu ou de bombes, L’enfant s’arrête, l’enfant tombe.

Pas un autre bruit de sanglot ou de pleur, L’enfant ne bouge plus, l’enfant meurt

Ce n’était qu’un enfant, Maintenant c’est un cadavre délaissé dans les ruines.

Ce n’était qu’un enfant, Où son corps résidera p Palestine

POEMS

Whispers of Abandonment

Hiba Belgada

Contributor

I called upon you, not just once but twice, I rolled life’s dice, seeking answers precise. Signs outside your window, I carefully placed, Countless messages sent, my heart embraced

Yet, you ignored me, your gaze turned away, As I yearned for attention, day after day.

In my pursuit, I lost myself, you see, Burned places of my body, in pain I’d plea.

I carved my skin, a canvas once so fair, Tears turned to water, drowning in despair. But still, you remained oblivious to my plight, Unseen, unheard, lost in endless night.

Warnings I gave, like whispers in the breeze, Yet you dismissed them all with casual ease No longer will I strive for your affection, Reclaiming the gifts, I once offered you.

Regret shall find you, in the days ahead, As my world crumbles, and darkness spreads. No longer will I seek your fleeting glance, For you’ve forgotten the beauty of our dance

Once called me provider, once called me home, Now I’m but a stranger, left on my own.

But now, you deny me the name of Earth, In your eyes, a forgotten soul, of little worth.

A Call from Earth on Climate Change

VISUAL ARTS

Artwork by Zoe Elyssa Leggett "art is fun!!"

Photography by Louis-Philippe Keith The Moon and Saturn

Next semester we will be looking for new editors, writers, and illustrators

NEXT ON THE BLUE INK:

Taken from PeeblesLab.com

THINK YOU CAN DO BETTER? SEND IN YOURS NEXT EDITION

PUZZLES

PUZZLES

COME BACK FOR NEXT ISSUE FOR THE ANSWERS!

ABOUT THE COVERS

The front cover is a picture taken by Valentine Nneji to continue the trend of having blue on the front cover page and to remind us of the cold, long, dreadful winter coming. As the Starks say: "Winter is coming".

The back cover is a picture taken by our in-house photographer, Aradhya Khare, of the teachers and support staff striking on November 6.

900 Rue Riverside, Saint-Lambert QC J4P 3P2

theblueink.ca

@theblueink.champlaincollege

theblueink.champlaincollege@gmail.com

Valentine Nneji Editor-in-Chief

Mavi Kallianiotis Sports Correspondent

Aradhya Khare In-House Photographer

Aurélie Champagne Special Collaborator

Ihsaan Ahmed

Florence Arès Lina Bakaleinik Hiba Belgada Louis-Phillippe Keith

Laurane Lacroix

Malaïka Lavoie

Zoe Elyssa Leggett

Ayah Sumaya

Marlyne Myriam Tchassem Loudjom

Chi Zhang

The Blue Ink

Room D-101

Hebdolitho inc.