The Artichoke Vol. 7. No. 2

MAKE UP AND PHOTOGRAPHY BY: ZACH BONIN

Our thrilling Halloween issue!

OCTOBER 2017 | VOL. 7 NO. 2

YOU CAN READ DOWN HERE..

ARTICHOKE

WINTERS

Safa Gangat

Assistant Editor

Lamia Abozaid

Writers

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Carl Cachero Genevieve Canavan Alexandra Caprara Katherine Collier Kelly Estomo Maddyson Fischer Kabeer Garba Michael Petruzzelli Sierra Riley Lilian Rubilar Francesca Smita Soni Zlatko Tyulev Maya Vukov Jessie Whyte

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The Broken Mosaic Hailee Tomassone

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Understand

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Hey Moon Catherine Rose Brown

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To Those Who Don’t Understand That No Means No Emily Guindon

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Costumes!!

Maya Vukov

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Good Grief, Bad Grief!

Kelly Estomo

Design Editor

Sarah Wong

Designers

Bri Coggans Kristina Pura-Cruz Holden Kao Samneet Mann Sarah Manyoki Mars Quave Elisabeth Yoon Michelle Young

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Do Not Should All Over Yourself!

Genevieve Canavan

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Fearless Kabeer Garba

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Loneliness and his brother Anxiety Katherine Collier

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“Are You Scared?”

Alexandra Caprara

For past issues: issuu.com/artichokemag

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The Couples Costume Manifesto Sierra Marilyn Riley

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Halloween

Jessica Copetti

Creative

Editor-In-Chief

Lifestyle

IN THIS ISSUE

Feature

CONTRIBUTORS

Maddiysn Fisher 28

It’s Fun To Have Fun But You Have To Know How Lilian Rubilar

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Winters October Calendar

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ARTICHOKE

Section

The Broken Mosaic 4

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BY HAILEE TOMASSONE

if only my depression could be simplified to sadness, it would make it so much easier to explain.

Now don’t get me wrong, I will not blame you if you came here believing that but if after all of this you leave still thinking that I might blame myself, but that’s just part of it too.

—It’s true that sadness can be a part of depression, but if you believe that’s all it is you are looking at this huge mosaic one shattered piece of glass at a time.

I would love if the sentences: I am sad and I am depressed held the same weight on my heart… but they don’t.

ARTICHOKE

SPOKEN WORD (WORD NIGHT)

BY JESSICA COPETTI

6

to understand me is like trying to understand the hardest mathematical formula known to man.

Close to impossible.

I’m like a child playing on a seesaw after recess hours.

Swinging back and forth with my good friend Anxiety.

When I reach the top I feel invincible.

Incredible.

I look to the sky, reach for the clouds, welcome the sun’s heat, smile for the first time…

And I plunge deep into the ground with a thump and a cry.

As if the monsters I was told at night came alive to swallow me up.

The darkness seduces me this way.

It pretends to care by kissing away my wounds.

Stitches my cuts with soft promises.

And baths my broken body in sparkling champagne.

But as my eyes open wide I can see its deceptions.

Kisses are mere bite marks, Promises are moldy green lies, Wrapped up next to spoiled milk, I am forced to drink.

I am naive like a loyal dog to its owner.

I follow along with love sick eyes and wag my tail when I receive his treat.

I run after him to seek his attention, To only sit patiently behind his bedroom door.

Then bark like mad when the lights go off.

In the dark I am afraid.

In the dark my mind wanders to that caged door that I lock myself into.

As if I was the prisoner to my own private jail in a forsaken forest of fear.

Some days are good and some days are bad like anyone else, But for me it’s different.

Good days consist of me being like a child again in a candy store wanting it all, but already on the high.

While a bad day will last for days, feeling like an endless cycle where my bed is my only friend, and my pillow is my only lover, and life is eating me whole, and I would die alone and wake up the next day to experience it all over again!

But I will wear a mask that grins from ear to ear so you don’t see my makeup running like a waterfall.

I HATE THE NIGHT! I hate the dark.

The friend on the seesaw motions to me. Constantly.

I always jump on it.

And you can never get on for you don’t fit.

You don’t see what it’s doing to me.

What you do to me.

To understand me is like trying to understand the hardest mathematical formula known to man.

Close to impossible.

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ARTICHOKE

SPOKEN WORD (WORD NIGHT)

Hey Moon

BY CATHERINE ROSE BROWN

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the moon has known me my entire life; before I ever realized or could comprehend the concept of forever, the moon started her everlasting watch over me.

From the second I was thrown into this world to the moment I am reading this poem, the moon has been with me always, radiating her calming energy that feels like coming home after a long day, staying when I thought no one had, no one could, no one wanted to, even when I didn’t know she was there, she has never been more than a heartbeat away. I can close my eyes and remember her craters and comfort shaped like my favourite song, bright as the feeling I get when my heart stops racing and I don’t have to plan every sentence in my head over and over and over and over and over and over and over again before I say it out loud because she’s never expected anything of me.

I feel my strongest, my healthiest, my truest self when she’s shining, my favourite memories are

made at night, and when it’s just the two of us, whether I’m curled up on the back deck or hiding behind industrial dumpsters, I feel a peace I could never describe, I don’t have to hide, or subscribe to any labels or beliefs or pretend I’m okay because the moon has known me my entire life and I wouldn’t be able to fool her anyway.

I don’t think I’m cut out for this.

Why couldn’t I have manifested in a timeline where it could be just me and my moon 100% of the time, the one who has known me the longest and known me the deepest, the best company I have ever had the pleasure of sharing.

I’d like to just sit out here with her forever (cause I can comprehend the concept now) and I don’t think anything could ever compare to the feeling of being understood, even if it’s just by a rock in the sky that’s been there my entire life.

I look to her every evening and wish her the sweetest of goodnight.

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ARTICHOKE

SPOKEN WORD (WORD NIGHT)

BY EMILY GUINDON

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TO THOSE WHO DON’T UNDERSTAND THAT NO MEANS NO

to those who don’t understand that no means no: Did you not learn when you were a child the meaning of the word “no”?

I’m sure your mother called it out to you, no, no, no As sure as I am that you learned to listen The stove is hot; no. Or No more cookies; no. Or It’s past your bedtime; no. Or Don’t push that girl on the playground And I am sure that you shouted it back to her, That you got angry when she turned the TV off, Made you eat your vegetables, Told you to come home I am sure that you had your fair share of “no”s As sure as I am of your anger when she did not listen So why do you ignore mine?

Why do you put your hands on me, Lips on me, Buck your hips against mine, tug at my clothes?

Why is my “no” not enough?

Why does my “no” pale in comparison, why is it a drop of water in a salty ocean Why is it that you take my “no” as an invitation to negotiate, To have “just one more minute” To kiss my neck “just one more time” To fix me up “just one more drink” Why does my “not right now” mean that in ten minutes, When you ask me again, “No” is not a valid answer?

Did I drink too much?

Or not enough?

Is my “no” not enough?

Am I not enough.., to stop you?

I’m tired; no, I’m too drunk; no,

I’m with my friends; no Do you have a boyfriend? No Do you like this? No Can I keep going? No Please? No What is in in this pair of shaking shoulders, This tight lipped smile, In my repeated refusal That makes you want me more?

Makes you push me against my dresser harder, Against the wall harder, Make you tug at my hair harder, Makes you beg harder, Makes your dick harder?

What is it?

Is it the vulnerability hiding in the cracks in my voice?

Do you think that if you push hard enough, You can wedge your fingers between them?

Wedge your tongue a little deeper down my throat?

Should I have lied?

Said I belonged to another man?

To any man?

If I am not enough on my own, Tell me this: why do you want me?

Is it your blooming, confused sexuality?

That it’s “easier for me”? That I “don’t even have to do anything”?

If that were true, “No” would be enough.

Should be enough.

But I’m not enough, never enough.

To those who don’t understand that no means no: Why me?

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ARTICHOKE

CREATIVE

BY MAYA VUKOV

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it is october and halloween, yay! During that time every year, putting creativity into looking like something else is popularly practiced. I remember my earliest memories of dressing up as a child, my mother had a white wicker basket with a few clothes in it and she would call it the “dress-up basket”. It did not contain much except a few old shawls, the infamous red blanky that could be used as a cape for the red riding hook and a pink polka dotted hand-made down dress that my cousin gave us; my brother wore it once and he looked so cute in it.

I believe there was also an apron that my grandma used to wear back in Serbia with little red frogs on it (maybe frogs? I honestly do not remember).

Over the years, the dress up basket grew into a dress up box and finally a dress up closet. Soon I had

a sparkly mermaid dress, a pirate costume along with more costumes and props. For some reason, more than anything else, playing dress up was just about one of my absolute favorite things to do when I was little. The excitement of using your creativity to look like a character as best as you could. Why read or watch movies about ballerinas and mermaids when you could be one?

When I was a teen, I discovered Harry Potter, and from then on until today, my Halloween outfits have been intensely detailed and completed with wands, school uniforms; the works. Towards the end of elementary school, I started making films with my friends and since we were all girls, we all had to play the boy parts and wear wigs for them. That was when I discovered my love for wigs that I never knew I had. With a wig on, I actually could pass for a real boy and I don’t know

how to describe it, but it just made me feel so great, so cool, and so free. It made me feel great in a way that I had never felt before as a girl.

After I discovered my love for wigs, I would use any excuse I could get to put on that dark brown fringy wig and assume what I liked to call “my alter ego” (I named him Ed, don’t ask me why.) I even starred in a movie I made while wearing that wig! But there were other wigs too, a long red one with bangs, a short platinum blonde one I wore to a 20’s dance.

With dressing up, I can be whoever I want and it’s just always been so damn fun! There is the ability for one to play with their identity in a way that is so liberating.

Lately I have been looking into cosplay conventions because to me, dressing up just once a year just is not enough anymore.

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ARTICHOKE

CREATIVE

1. i am sorry if the taste if the taste of trash and guilt sits in your mouth all night and wakes you up in the afternoon. I will still kiss you.

GOOD GRIEF,

2. Humans love your animal. He will be the first one I say hi to when I come in, and he will be the one I will miss the most when he is gone.

He once waited for me to finish my glass of milk in my tiny hand, then politely sat up and walked me to the kitchen. I cannot quite finish my milk as fast anymore.

3. I was asked to play at a funeral, and I practiced the Smith’s “Asleep” for three days. The day before, I was told that it would be death all over again, so I had to play “Somewhere Only We Know” by Keane. I sung it but I did not want to be there.

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4. You asked my how my friend is doing. I told you I did not want him in my songs anymore.

BAD GRIEF!

BY KELLY ESTOMO

5. I am sorry for crying out of nowhere when you called me. I had a dream I lost you, not like a 5 year old in a grocery store kinda way, but you took your own life. and now I cannot stop thinking about it. And now that I hear your voice, you are waking up the part of my brain that I tried to kill, but survived that one dream. I am sorry.

6. A douchebag in a sports car almost sped into me today, the day before I started university. If the douchebag hit me, I would if he would stop, if he would make a U-thurn and approach my dad, asking how old I was and what school I would have attended.

7. They talk to their parents in their free time. They have never enjoyed that before the prescription. I think they shed themselves; like dead skin.

8. Saccharine and naive; perfectly concocted for a good time, but will fuck you up under your radar. That happened for months, and then I went cold turkey. I am holding you at a Halloween party (again), lip to lip, I’m older and you feel different too; except the headrush when I drink you in feels exactly the same as the first time.

9. Would you rather be burned alive or freeze to death? That is my go–to WYR question. I always say I would prefer hypothermia. Others argue that the shock from third degree burns might shut you down quicker.

Then I decided we should stop fantasizing a grand death.

10. Holy shit! I have cut and killed my hair, all the same. Watched it fall by own hand, even burned it white. It is like metamorphosis in reverse! I inevitably will be debaptised; I am bracing myself. You will turn my funeral into yours, and I am sorry.

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ARTICHOKE

CREATIVE

DO NOT SHOULD ALL OVER YOURSELF! 16

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BY GENEVIEVE CANAVAN

my first halloween at york University consisted of me walking around the Village with my friends in a Mini Mouse costume (complete with red and white polka dot heels), through the snow, only to help some extremely drunk people home as one of them puked in a bathroom in ACE. Last year, my Halloween consisted of me eating candy corn for most of the day, finishing an assignment, and using a Monster bath bomb from Lush. Things have changed a wee bit huh? I have always loved Halloween, it is one of my favorite holidays. So last year, while I was sitting in the tub (still eating candy corn) I realized how much my life had truly changed, and I got scared.

I feared that my life would become boring, I would not have time to go out anymore, spend time

with friends, date, that school would suck the life out of me so much that I would not have the energy for anything else. After many more nights both in and out, I have come to realize that I really, truly enjoy my life. It is not boring in the least, and if I wanna stay in and take a damn bubble bath, then I am going to take a damn bubble bath! There is nothing wrong with not going out or taking time for yourself. A wise woman once told me that when questioning why one does or does not do something, fear is usually the answer. Most of my fears come from the “shoulds”. I “should” finish school in four years. I “should” be doing something remarkable and incredible tonight. I “should” be doing some form of work right now, not relaxing. I “should” be over that relationship. Guess what? Do not

should all over yourself. If there’s anything I’ve learned in University, it is that there is no timeline for life. There is no age you should be married, moved out, have had babies, graduated, gone to school, fallen in love by. The future is scary do not get me wrong!

I spent the majority of my first week of school being terrified about whether or not another rug was going to be pulled out from under me. There is also the ever-so-lovely question of “What are you going to do after you graduate?!” Personally, I am thinking of just getting a sign taped to my head saying “I DO NOT KNOW!” Anyways, I am getting off my point here. Life is terrifying, and when you realize how powerless you are, it can be even more terrifying.

Remember, powerless does not equate to hopeless. When you feel

that fear creeping in that was once triggered by what was under your bed or in the basement, tell it to go fuck itself. As long as you are happy and content with your life, there is no need to be scared of the future.

Put one foot in front of the other, take it a day at a time, and do not put so much pressure on yourself!

Life does not have to be figured out or an incredible adventure all the time! Those boring nights will make the crazy ones that much more memorable. Funny how when you grow up clowns, monsters, and ghosts are less scary than thinking you should be further along then you are, huh?

ARTICHOKE

CREATIVE

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BY KABEER GARB

the sharp sound of birds whistling through the sky was oddly vexatious. Encompassed by an environment so radical, it was the flow of the water that kept us calm. We were stuck, surrounded by a world of rapid movement. Sitting still, waiting to fall, and craving the crash. Who knew getting stuck at the top of a waterfall was the thrill I was looking for? I had one large jagged rock close enough to touch on my right along with a panicked family to my left. For the first

time, I am given liability. Why did I not choose a benign adventure?

Eventually we grew tired of waiting for the waves to wash us away. We started to bounce in place, budge all over, push and pull all in hopes of a smooth escape. Escape – accomplished, it was smooth, but not so much. The raft promptly flipped over and any hope for one’s sense of direction was gone. Hitting the water was hard, but hitting a rock would have been harder. When I realized I was not impaled I opened

my mouth to cry for joy but the water rushed in before any sound could get out.

Luckily, I was used to opening my eyes underwater, I found my paddle and followed the air bubbles.

When I broke the surface I saw a piece of scattered art, all painted with the theme of fright. There was a raft gone loose with nobody in it, but somebody under it. Two paddles smashing against the cliffs and three brothers searching for direction.

The water carried me forward. I saw my mother washing away down the river being watched by my father, more vulnerable than he has ever been. I have seen this man win a staring contest with the sun and I have also seen this man put out fires by scolding even hotter than the element.

Now, for the first time ever, I see him in fear. Of course, a man of fire would be threatened by water. As I watched the terror slowly tremble across his tantric face, he refused to give up. I saw him struggle to gain control of his motion, but fail time and time again, leaving him more intimidated than before. My entire life, I thought that

nothing could scare my father and if something did it would terrify me. I was wrong, I felt more secure than ever. I trekked over the crooked rocks and made my way to him.

I was in control; I was finally going to be the one saving. I reached him, threw out my hand and helped him back to the shore. I carried half of his weight, and handed him my paddle for stability. I felt as though he was taking my exhaustion away.

With each gasp he gave me grit, working harder to bring him to the shore safely. The feeling of relief that raced through my body when my feet first stepped on dry, flat rocks was incomparable. We sat together, both in silence, knowing we would never speak of this again. I wanted to ask him what it felt like, I wanted to know if he was proud of me. I grew that day, I became fearless. I became my father.

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ARTICHOKE

LONELINESS AND HIS BROTHER ANXIETY 20

BY KATHERINE COLLIER

CREATIVE

turning down the pitch blackness, I felt my connection to the world lessening; The voices getting quiet. My mind became a fortress that none could invade.

I felt the bodies around me swarm, but I was a lone island in the middle of a vast ocean. The waves, lap against my shores but no single one left a lasting mark. I looked up at the stars and wondered what it would be like to be lost in the blanket of blackness and bright lights. Could it be like this feeling I have now?

Could it be… loneliness? Perhaps… it could finally be… peace for my ever-working mind. Maybe a kindred spirit could be found among those stars, making this separation I feel from the rest of humanity disappear like a star being engulfed by a supernova. Maybe, I could finally find the one person who understands the maze that is my mind; the secret corridors and

hidden rooms finally being found and opened like treasures on Christmas morning. Maybe, I will finally find… me.

But darkness engulfed me once more, shadows lurking. A cold sweat developed on my back. Air felt as though it could not reach my lungs. Gasping for air, I reached out, only to be drawn back in by the waves. I could see nothing but darkness. Hands would reach out and grab me. Each time I tried to run, more came and pulled me under. Relax a voice breathed in my ear, the sound slithering down my spine. A sickly-sweet taunting voice. I had felt this before, growing out of the darkness, the loneliness.

It had no name but lived inside me, creeping over everything it could put its hands on. Instincts told me to just give into this feeling, this gasping, breathless feeling that would not let me explore the world around me. That let me see only darkness.

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ARTICHOKE

CREATIVE

Are You Scared?

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BY ALEXANDRA CAPRARA

i hope i terrify you.

The very thought of me makes you tremble.

You fall to your knees and burst into ashes, Sprinkling my heels with your malice The color is the same as the cinnamon hearts I wash you away in the river and I drowned my daughters in the older versions of my self Ghosts that sing the same tune as the roaring hum of the stream.

I open my mouth to drink but it comes out of the slashes in my face, My throat, and my gut

23 I forgot people still like to carve love letters into candy apples Your laugh as sharp as the blade, I can hear you.

I remain haunted yet still I refrain from remembering how the things that scare you don't come out once a year anymore.

They’re watching, Endlessly.

The hairs on the back of your neck will rise not from the autumn air, but from the realization that your fears, will always know your name.

ARTICHOKE

LIFESTYLE

The Couples Costume Manifesto

BY SIERRA MARILYN RILEY

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the couples costume is the orgasm of life, the spirit of Halloween, what almost every Whole Foods was founded on, what allows 24/7 coin-operated laundromats to operate without a hitch, day after night after day. The art of the couples costume is that it needn’t be original, it needn’t even be that good, but what it does need, is to happen.

If it does not happen, obviously you’re in a shit relationship (pathetic). But, hey, if the bread loaf of your relationship has gone stale, remember that nothing brings back that joie de vivre like dressing up as Oedipus and his mom. Freud once said of couples costumes, “It works better than couples therapy!” and this has certainly been proven true over the long and rich history of the couples costume.

To get the most out of your couples costume experience, follow the guidelines outlined in this manifesto to strengthen your relationship while also keeping the spirit of Halloween alive and vivacious.

Primarily, it is essential to make appearances at a minimum AND maximum of 3 parties (or bars, gatherings, sex clubs) per day on Halloween; make-out at each location and get a picture taken of each make-out by your friend Lucy (Lucy knows to use burst so you have a variety to choose from for the ‘gram).

At the very least get one candid shot, for the love of God. This shows the full power and breadth of your couple’s costume, visible in steamy action.

Have sex in your couple’s costume. Even if it is just eye-sex (prolonged, vigorous eye contact, pupils dilate and then contract in a truly orgasmic way - this is dangerous if you are using spooky contact lenses though).

Couples costume sex is the most intimate and raunchy of all sexual acts. Do it in every location possible, as often as possible.

Remember! Halloween is not just a day, it is a two-week affair, and the more costumes,

the better. From JLo and Ben from the Jenny From The Block music video to a dolphin and a piece of coral, photograph each look to demonstrate the breadth of your collective originality, creativity and intellect. Seriously, get Lucy on this shit.

A couples costume is a lifestyle - while Halloween is prime time to dress up with your boo, do not let anyone stop you from bringing the couples costume culture to work, social events, sexual rituals or even to the public pool/mall, year-round.

Repeating a couple’s costume previously worn in another relationship goes against the artistic integrity of your new relationship.

You must be the change you wish to see in the world, as Ghandi once said (on Halloween, which is no coincidence). If you want healthy relationships to spread like a beautiful epidemic, contribute to couples costume culture and do your part for the community.

Never doubt the power of the butterfly effect (NOTE: the butterfly effect is a great costume for long-distance couples, a butterfly and a tsunami on opposite sides of the world.

Classic).

It is important to note that the effort put into each costume is a direct reflection of the effort put into the relationship. Each party in the couple should have an equally good costume individually for the following reasons: 1. So it does not look like one person puts more effort into the relationship.

2. So it does not look weird when you go to the bathroom alone (healthy couples separate when they go to the bathroom to show that there are no issues of codependency).

Xoxo Love forever Warmly Spooky Sierra

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Section

HALLOWEEN. 26

BY MADDIYSN FISHER

did that scare your liver too? this might be because of fond memories of puking in a bush, or that walk of shame after hooking up with a pirate or some shit like that. BUT, for me, it is the seven days of parties. Literally Halloween is not just one day of drinking, it is a full festival of just getting fucked up day after day. Up at York, we like to call it: HALLOWEEK. This week can take a toll on you mentally and physically. Believe me when I say your bones might fall right out.

To help you out, here are 5 tips to survive HALLOWEEK 2K17.

1. Give Yourself a 3 Day Detox Before the First Party!

This might be weird I know, but detox your body so that you are feeling fresh as hell and ready to slay that cute person you see on the guest list. This will also help your body clean out any toxins before filling it with more! This tip is a life saver for your confidence during Halloweek.

2. Get Multiple Costumes!

Money is a thing yes, but trust me, you will want at least 3 costumes for the whole week. Especially if you puke after drinking; at least you will have another costume that is not covered in vomit for the next night. There are a ton of DIY costumes you can make from household items or random materials, so if you are on a budget do not fret! Just go on Pinterest to find the costume of your dreams.

3. Eat Before You Drink!

Seriously, do it! It can be hard with the busy lifestyle Winters people live, but you do not want to be the next “Halloweek Tale of Past Drunk Mistakes”. Try to go for more wholesome food as well, like a wrap or a salad. Going for junk food, like pizza or Wendy’s, can lead you to having no energy or

feeling extremely bloated. During this week, the healthier your options, the better!

4. Go to Halloween Pub Night at the Ab! This is the time where you find out about all the parties happening in the Village. It is the best time during Halloweek since the whole Winters Community is there ready to celebrate with WCC! Make sure you get there early to beat the line.

5. Lastly, DRINK WATER! Binge drinking can be fun, but this is not a one and done type of week. THIS BITCH IS A MARATHON! Pace yourself; after 2 drinks, have a glass of water. You may be thinking, “wow that is lame,” but you know what’s even more lame? Dying at the pre! You may resurrect, but you will never live it down. Be smart and drink water. You want to last all Halloweek, not just October 25th.

Those are my tips to have a fun, safe, and healthy Halloweek 2K17. Follow these tips so you do not become... wait for it... BONELESS! Love, MadFish

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ARTICHOKE

IT’S​ ​FUN​ ​TO​ ​HAVE​ ​FUN​ ​ BUT​ ​YOU​ ​HAVE​ ​TO​ ​KNOW​ ​HOW.

BY LILIAN ALEJANDRA RUBILAR

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leave​ ​it​ ​to​ ​tall​ ​anthropomorphic​ ​ costume​ ​characters​ ​on​ ​the​ ​big​ ​screen​ ​ to​ ​give​ ​the​ ​best advice​.​ ​As a child, the Cat in the Hat and Mike Myers voice has taught me about the responsibilities that come with having fun. Big bird once said, “Never refer to me as an item, I am a bird,”. Caroll Spinney here reminds us that everyone is important, and each individual deserves respect.

Although I am not a fan of early Halloween decor taking up space at my nearest grocery store, I still jump for joy at the sight of pumpkin carving kits and getting a whiff of that ‘cheap new costume smell.’

Toronto comes alive with Halloween events during October.

Halloween parties and cruises, Halloween Haunt at Canada’s Wonderland, and Legends of Horror at Casa Loma are only a few spooky events I definitely recommend attending this Fall. We all know Halloween parties in Toronto are crazy, but before we get wasted (or chocolate wasted for you

non-alcoholics) and regret that last shot of tequila, it is important to remember our responsibility as humans on earth.

To really respect other individuals, their space, their wishes, and their beliefs. Speaking from personal experiences and as well as from a bartender’s point of view. I have noticed that there has been an increase of confusion around the “gray area” of consent..

The “gray area,” I believe has sprouted from our culture’s unhealthy communicative approach to sex, or our intentions between partners. This murky confusion wrongly assumes consent in places it does not exist. Although, thanks to the age of technology that we live in, democracy, and maybe Johannes Gutenberg, we can now educate ourselves (wow) and hopefully spark a shift in the way we communicate with others about consent. What I see happening a lot nowadays are others trying

LIFESTYLE

to “harmlessly” push or convince the other individual into sexual activities. This is not limited to just sex, it can be kissing, or even putting a person in a situation that they are clearly not comfortable with.

True consent is enthusiastic, not something that can be interpreted. It is a continuing process of freely choosing to participate. Now, would it not it be better if both parties equally wanted to join? If you have to convince someone into anything, you put this individual in a position of feeling pressured, obligated, or afraid. And although maybe this person did not bluntly say “no”, a lack of “no” is not a “yes.” When

pressuring one to engage in anything sexual can really destroy the platform in which consent can be communicated honestly. It is funny in a way, how our own verbal communication has vegetated at the use of multiple communication devices and platforms. But fear not, as humans we can evolve and learn to be a better person than we were yesterday. Hold yourself to a high standard of sexual communication, treat others how you would like to be treated, and the obvious no means no. Another important note during the festive season is to keep hydrated!

Now that you know how to have fun, party hard and Happy Halloween!!

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For past issues: ISSUU.COM/ARTICHOKEMAG