Today I’m in the museum lobby, newly thrifted jacket in hand, waiting for my friends to come out. Today I’m in Amsterdam. Specifically, I’m at the Rembrandt House Museum, though I wouldn’t know—I haven’t gone past the lobby. Still, “Rembrandt van Rijn" is written in a font so big it’s ...
You realize that you’ve forgotten to throw Love in the trashcan. Love passed its expiry date a year ago but remains stuck to the ceiling of your room because you want to stare at the ceiling and think of Love every night before falling asleep.
When a poet meets their hero, they are left frank and unpoetic. I had rehearsed every moment, every word, every gesture for years. I promised my poise would be practiced to perfection. I would impress her with my words, speak naturally in metaphor and alliteration— prove that I was a poet in practice ...
From hip-hop to TikTok, Doechii’s meteoric rise to stardom shows that artists can express their individuality and still gain popularity among diverse audiences.
It’s the middle of August, and we only just got here. Right now, our whole group is gathered in the basement of a bar that’s too bright on a street that we’ve never seen in the daylight. I’m holding a beer, although I don’t drink beer, and we’re all a little drunk on Moscow Mules that cost ...
“It’s all about a larger journey: Your work is never done,” Erin Niimi Longhurst writes in her book, A Little Book of Japanese Contentments. That's the beauty in it. The journey is the process and importance of discovering what keeps you going. It’s about learning to “let go of the things ...
Our sunroof only opens when it rains. When blue skies are all you can see, they no longer feel like blue skies. It’s the rain that makes us excited. At its beckoning, we pile into the car, wrists hanging over our heads like lazy and futile umbrellas. Our shoes stain puddles on the carpet and we shake ...
Disclaimer: mild spoilers, I tried my best to live in the abstract but I would love it if you watched the movie before reading.
*Spoilers for The White Lotus Season 2
“It’s my fault / The way I broke the Earth / It’s my fault,” ANOHNI yearns repeatedly over a blanket of mellow guitar riffs. It’s an intimate moment that comes straight from the soul, exploring her positionality in society through music. The sultriness of her voice finds shelter in the acceptance ...
Palm to forehead, mouth agape, and wiping away my tears with a blanket, I have never had such a physically emotional response to a television show as the first time I watched Fleabag. The mini-series is a one-two punch: What begins as a comedy about the owner of a guinea pig cafe twists into a meditation ...
Fish don’t exist. It’s quite a simple concept, though I suppose I should elaborate.
“1…2…1, 2, 3, 4!” All at once, the messiest, most disorganized, most insane group of rock ‘n’ roll legends come together for an iconic cover of a Beatles classic.
There's truly one thing in the world that frustrates me more than the current state of American politics: Roblox's viral multiplayer dress-up simulator, Dress to Impress. Whether during a particularly monotonous period of lecture or a restful moment of Mock Trial practice, I find myself consistently ...
A table, a desk covered with magazines and loose sheets of paper, posters calling for revolution. These are the set pieces for Susan Glaspell’s one-act play The People, which tells the story of a “radical and poor” newspaper and its staff as they stumble toward a more hopeful future. It’s a ...
I’m running down the beach with a girl who’s never seen the Atlantic. The sky is blue and unrelenting. Our hands burn with ice from where we dipped them in the waves. When the January wind blows, it bites hard into the droplets crystallizing on our fingertips. It’s your first time on the East ...
An American Werewolf in London is not a gay movie. The love story at the center of the movie is decidedly heterosexual, and the two male leads have no sexual or romantic chemistry whatsoever. Yet, if you watched my edit of the movie, set to “Ribs” by Lorde, you’d think it was the gayest, queerest ...
“It’s just the same pattern over and over again” is a phrase I have heard one too many times when talking about reguetón with music fans.
Solutions by The State News
