During my recent re-entry into full-time schooling after eight years as a professional ballet dancer, I’ve been greeted by many small culture shocks: new slang I missed while spending my days in the studio, the looming presence of AI, the casual nihilism that comes with classmates who can’t remember ...
It is easier, sometimes, to be outside of oneself.
Sometimes a poem makes you feel happy. Sometimes a poem makes you feel sad. Sometimes a poem makes you feel viscerally upset for no discernible reason. This happened to me a few years ago, when I first read a fragment of “Accident Report in the Tall, Tall Weeds” by former United States Poet Laureate ...
The age-old adage, “Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me,” appears to have been forgotten by our generation.
content warnings: description of mass suicide, mentions of rape
My move to Providence in August of this year began with a humbling initiation: the worst haircut I’ve ever received. My fine hair has always been one of my biggest insecurities, second only to the persistent hormonal acne that’s more indecisive and temperamental than an angsty teenager. Thanks to ...
my attic and i
If you’ve ever had a Twitter account or are in touch with popular culture in the US, you have definitely encountered the controversial character that is Azealia Banks.
There’s no mistake that a simple kick drum can make you sway. A four-on-the-floor beat, with some hi-hat on the off-beats, makes anyone nod their head, no matter the genre. But with Fleetwood Mac, their drummer, Mick Fleetwood, adds some flare to it in the form of wind chimes. These ringing metal ...
I stand on the chair, trying to keep my balance. My right arm stretches upwards as I reach for the top shelf, and I carefully grab the heavy box. I place it on my desk and I open it, and there it is: “When I grow up I will fly.” Among all my old hand-written letters, I choose this one to keep reading. ...
For the past three years, my family has upheld the same end-of-summer tradition: On a Saturday in mid-August, we drive four hours north of San Francisco until we hit Eureka. On Sunday, we run the Humboldt Bay Marathon.
My father says meals you make yourself always taste the best. When I was younger, I would laugh at his statement as he served up tangy tomato egg stir fry or hearty beef noodle soup for dinner. Why would I want to cook a meal when I could enjoy the delicious flavors someone else made for me? But the ...
There is an altar in my mother’s family home.
Solutions by The State News
