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Post- Magazine Narrative

joyful naiveness (1).pdf - 1
Post- Magazine

if i could (still) fly [narrative]

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. ...


Untitled Artwork
Post- Magazine

familiarity [narrative]

I stepped onto a campus sidewalk, two days after the rush of move-in and still unsure how to find my way to V-Dub from my EmWool dorm, the Main Green a foreign field. I remember staring at your face, confused about why you were extending your arm forward to shake my hand, completely oblivious to the ...


Untitled Artwork
Post- Magazine

dive [narrative]

I squeeze my eyes shut before the dive, even though they’re encased in my thick, blurry goggles. Perhaps my fear has to do with the near-drowning incident two summers ago, when the artificial blue waves of Sahara Sam’s Water Park held me down and I suddenly couldn't remember which way the sky was. ...


French Colour
Post- Magazine

paris at 1pm [narrative]

Seemingly, Paris is quiet at 1 p.m. on a Monday—at least in the Marais. I am sitting outside of a café, hoping for a mysterious, protagonistic moment with my journal and my whole milk latte (something only acceptable in France). The wind sends shivers down my spine, ripples through the pages of my ...


Longboarddays-mot Tuman
Post- Magazine

longboard days [narrative]

When we were kids, my cousin Lucas liked to build stuff. A computer, once, I think, and definitely a 3D printer. His house was filled with all these gadgets that seemed like they had been beamed straight out of a sci-fi movie. He was three years older than me and the coolest person I knew. My younger ...


未命名作品
Post- Magazine

on languages & risks [narrative]

I rarely speak my native language at Brown. When I come back to my dorm and think in English—out of habit—I feel pathetic. It’s not because I don’t enjoy speaking it—it's this shift that reminds me of the performativity that underlies daily conversations. I sit on the floor and catch myself ...


Untitled Artwork
Post- Magazine

my dad and woody allen [narrative]

You came to outrun last semester. The slacking, the smoke, the classes you let tip into a soft, resinous fog. You blamed Donnie Hazel. Hazel of midnight joints, floor-creak monologues, and the art of drifting out of the abstract world of collegiate commitment. So you hit I-95 and called it reform. New ...


The Setonian
Post- Magazine

what brings you joy? [narrative]

Mama Instant Noodles Shrimp Flavor (Tom Yum). That squeaky wrinkle sound became pleasing when I tore open the foil packaging. I dumped the brick of ramen and the powder of spices into a bowl, and my fingers darted to the switch on my electric kettle. I now had only a minute to get everything ready.


The Setonian
Post- Magazine

developing [narrative]

I dip a tiny strip of photographic paper into a vat of developer and I watch it sink. Tapping it gently with popsicle-stick prongs, I let my mind wander for two whole minutes. I’ll stop the developing process by running it into the “stop bath” for half a minute, then into the fixer solution for ...


未命名作品
Post- Magazine

what are the chances? [narrative]

A review of 2014’s Spring Weekend from the Brown Daily Herald describes the concerts as “primarily successful.” 11 years later, and I can only chuckle at this subdued summary of a series headlined by one of the most prolific DJs ever and arguably the greatest artist of all time whose sound pioneered ...


Untitled Artwork
Post- Magazine

adjusting expectations [narrative]

I purchased my first ever Spring Weekend ticket while on the treadmill. I was #1998 in the virtual queue and the little figure on the screen walked atop the progress bar from left to right, imitating my leisurely pace, dragging itself to the finish line. Every day felt like that at the time. Between ...


The Setonian
Post- Magazine

life cycles [narrative]

Learning to hate is both easy and hard. It is easy in that once felt, hatred takes close to no effort to maintain. It persists through all kinds of weather. Learning to hate is hard in that you need to get hurt to begin. And then it hurts to keep hating. And then when you’re finally tired of hating, ...


Untitled Artwork
Post- Magazine

this will last forever [narrative]

There’s something sweet in the air. It usually hits me at night on the walk back from North Campus, right between Wriston and Keeney. Each time, I’m left disoriented, unable to keep walking. It’s a green, sharp, scent–one of freshly mowed grass, sweat, clear sky, crisp morning air. It’s youthful—gentle, ...


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