J.N. Burnett's Literary Magazine Club // Volume 3, issue 4: TEMPORARY

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TEMPORARY TEMPORARY TEMPORARY j.n. burnett’s literary magazine club

ft. works from the jn burnett secondary student body volume 3 | issue 4

june 2019


editor's note

everything in life is temporary. the dull dread of a failed vocab quiz, the relief in a frostily sugared strawberry soda, the feeling of youth. one day, even the sky will fall, the oceans will spill, and humans will be mere memory. some people find comfort in it, others find fear, but no one can deny the magic of brevity.

in short, TEMPORARY is a word of many definitions, of a million intricacies, of infinite possibilities. it’s the embodiment of “this too shall pass”. the only exception to temporariness is the talent in this issue — that stuff’s forever.

haley chung & danielle graham jnb lit magazine’s co editors-in-chief 05/20/19 00:00.


table of contents on the cover 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 32

molten // michelle lo editor's note contents the team jam packed temporary home // caroline zhang on "feeling okay" // olive tao life's short // bekah seow garden of love // teresa li the end of the world // louise cham film // enya zheng a temporary feeling // maeg lorey parting // eliana barbosa an entrallment short-lived // fatima irfan these feelings are just temporary // gabby yan untitled // anonymous transient // trinity lu heure // mary ortega healing // destiny lang childhood // samantha yeung we are all made of stardust // destiny lang a gentle breeze // anonymous bliss // samantha yeung dried flowers // mika imalda insomnia // megan ong where has my time gone? // adam title molten // michelle lo 2030 // anna lee tribute to the execs thank you


the team executives editor-in-chief editor-in-chief creative + visual director creative + visual director secretary general exec. general exec. editor social media manager social media manager graphic designer graphic designer graphic designer graphic designer

haley chung danielle graham tiffany au rosanna tsang michael liang teresa li adam title louise cham nikka adrias maeg lorey samantha yeung gabby yan mary ortega eliana barbosa

contributors writers:

olive tao, adam title, destiny lang, fatima irfan, trinity lu

artists:

michelle lo, anna lee, bekah seow, caroline zhang, mika imada

photographers:

megan ong, teresa li


jam packed a playlist

temporary tunes Hozier Lauv Against the Current PRETTYMUCH dodie LANY Harry Styles Train NIKI Julia Michaels

Almost (sweet music) Sad Forever In Our Bones Phases when okay ft. Julia Michaels Sign of the Times Drops of Jupiter lowkey What a Time ft. Niall Horan


temporary home caroline zhang


On "Feeling Okay" olive tao there is sunshine and blue skies in my veins on these days I forget the taste of blood there is sunshine and blue skies in my veins it burns— the silence the shivers on these days I forget there is sunshine and blue skies it terrifies me

art like god (s) take the leap


life's short bekah seow


garden of love teresa li


TheEndoftheWrld LouiseCham Sheawoktafieryblance dth breathlswipersofhcildren. “Theswan’ ig atls,”heygil, playfuco rsinadk, rom. ButheCosm laughsnot— Amelowaridftsnoherslp-adenys andbeckoshrintoecrawling ht. Onyxgrowseary,conquerdbyficeambrys ashetridshougspacendmile a withmeasurdthogandsworlikethw. Shewavsbketofhrealfibsnd usher ofspring,oe-byn,outfhedark andotsfwicker. Scaterdsilv pecksonaebycanvs. Anutamedflrocuistyerupfom thequirnato fhermastpiec. What dbenhritenos? Anexprimntwhsardut? Agiftoranldswethar— Imposible.Aongashecouldrmebr she’dbntheolyn. Gazingcrosthe low,shemotns shalowftsepona ckmredon. Shecradlsncietplansihermasiverms andhumsteir nuscleihabtns, whomadnevrimagnedliftobesflting, intoaernlsep. Whent Cosm neardthglowats sheumonedvrybeathin rwloyframend blewth arofthewrldtousel hards. Streaksofylwochre, inaps gmoent, frolickednthairome.

The End of the World louise cham

Howmanytieshad eonsbefor? Creation destrucionadcretion cemor. Ashewiskthroug edark herysalightw anefoudpasion d icewatricklesthroug evins. Intheolwduskoftime shelo nshergip, relas ifetm’sworkintheabys, and—fligntoadepslumber— awitsnewbgin .

She awoke to a fiery brilliance and the breathless whispers of her children. “The swan’s singing at last,” they giggle, playful colours in a dark, dark room. But the Cosmos laughs not— A mellow aria drifts into her sleep-laden eyes and beckons her into the crawling light. Onyx grows weary, conquered by fierce amber rays as she strides through space and millennia with measured thought and swordlike thew. She weaves a basket of ethereal fibres and ushers her offspring, one-by-one, out of the dark and onto soft wicker. Scattered silver specks on an ebony canvas. An untamed flare of curiosity erupts from the quiet ruination of her masterpiece. What had been her intentions? An experiment with stardust? A gift for an old sweetheart— Impossible. As long as she could remember she’d been the only one.


Gazing across the hollow, she smoothens shallow footsteps on a pockmarked moon. She cradles ancient planets in her massive arms and hums their minuscule inhabitants, whom had never imagined life to be so fleeting, into an eternal sleep. When the Cosmos neared the glow at last she summoned every breath in her willowy frame and blew the heart of the world to lustreless shards. Streaks of yellow ochre, in a passing moment, frolicked in the air no more. How many times had she done so before? Creation and destruction and creation once more. As she whisks through the dark her eyes alight with a newfound passion and icewater trickles through her veins. In the hollow dusk of time she loosens her grip, releases a lifetime’s work into the abyss, and—falling into a deep slumber— awaits a new beginning.


film enya zheng


A Temporary Feeling maeg lorey

A wave of guilt crashes her home, But these bad feelings are only paying her a visit. She purchases a plane ticket to send them back home. In no way do they deserve first class. However she’s built, and wherever she’s planted, all buildings have the capability of crashing, and all flowers lose life eventually. A healthy plant needs sunshine to grow. You don’t shine enough for her. A strong building requires foundation. You couldn’t provide that for her. Though she swings her net up high, To catch the butterflies of positivity. You say nothing lasts forever. Her nothing is her love for herself.


parting eliana barbosa


An Entrallment Short-Lived fatima irfan Is there a place to begin? A start or an end? I don’t think so. My love for certain things is never permanent, never for more than a week, but always stays within my character. Whether it’s a movie, celebrity, television show, or book, it’s always temporary. While watching “10 Things I Hate About You”, I thought that the movie would stick with me for a long time; however, my love for it lasted a week until I got bored of it. Maybe the reason I lose interest in things so much is that I never want to fully commit to them. Maybe I didn’t build strong enough connections with them. Or maybe they got annoying too fast. I’ll never know. My fascination usually tends to never last long but the way it sometimes adds more meaning to something always sparks joy. Take for instance my love for books. In my elementary school years, I switched from reading about babysitters and their club to dystopian societies to coming-of-age stories to detectives. One type of genre never stuck with me. It was temporary. But it always gave me a different perspective to life. Perhaps I can carry these momentary obsessions to my future and they will always be there within my character. Or perhaps they will be temporary.


These Feelings Are Just Temporary gabby yan


untitled anonymous


Transient trinity lu

The world holds much heartache. So many lonely, so many lost. Deep hurt, settling over your bone-bruised insides, maybe. Or a sadness that wells up inside, Overwhelming the happiness. Tides of sorrow, Anchors of pain. Take heart, my friend, for we are only temporary. Our time here on Earth? Brief. The ache recedes to nothing as we go. Do not worry about today, do not worry about tomorrow. Nothing lasts. Seek refuge in the brevity, inhabit each moment as you wish. The good, it comes and goes. The bad? It’s over soon, I promise.


heure mary ortega


healing destiny lang

remember when you fell and scraped your knee? a pair of gentle hands put band-aid on. the wound was stinging then but don't you see? you healed and all the pain and hurt was gone. now slowly peel the bandage off your skin, the skin has mend itself and now you're free. your smile expanded to a toothy grin, which filled your heart with joy, delight and glee. in the wound's place has formed a darkened scar, a symbol of your strength, oh yes you are! yes, keep on smiling, we believe in you! yes, keep on trying, nothing's stopping you! yes, keep on healing, grow and flourish too!


childhood samantha yeung


we are all made of stardust destiny lang At night we admire the cosmos The planets, moons and stars We live in the moment Wanting it to last forever Our reality and eternity But the universe makes me feel So small So insignificant A speck of dust as time wears away Traces of my existence We will vanish on this Earth Before the North Star Becomes Vega, not the Polaris We glance up, smiling As we point at the Big Dipper Short is the life of a human Years go by with a snap of the fingers The blink of an eye The tenderness in your smile In our teary goodbye My time ran out I screamed in regret As Hades swept you away in his chariot Drawn by stallions of the night Before dawn had broken Ron wiped my tears As he gently told me "The lost ones will ascend Into the vast night sky A newly born star"


Fresh from the nebula Watching over us The drama of humankind Slowly burning out Like a dimming candle I searched for the brightest star "There you, are, Jason" Not locked away in the Earth Not swept away by waves of the current But smiling down upon me Who knew your life Would be a catalyst for mine When it was lost I wept uncontrollably Wishing your eyes would open again Made of stardust, we all are Temporary we may seem Short lives we may live But we make the most of our time Slipping away from the grasp of our fingertips We are stardust and stories Memories rewinded in my mind A movie theatre for my soul I celebrate your life and mine Even though it is temporary But my time will come someday I'll obediently board the chariot We'll reunite again as binary stars Two stars lost in time As we smile down upon the universe


A Gentle Breeze anonymous

a gentle breeze rustles leaves, the warm grass below me breathes as puffs of seeds drift away in a field of flowers is where I lay

bliss samantha yeung


d r i e d

fl ow e r s dried flowers mika imada


insomniac megan ong


Where Has My Time Gone? adam title

I looked under the couch In all the cabinets In the cat’s litter box In the trunk In the bread box But it cannot be found. I swear, I had it just on me It was right in my pant pocket But it seems to have disappeared Where has my time gone? Perhaps it was stolen Perhaps it decided I didn’t need it and walked off (And you know I really wouldn’t blame it if it came to that conclusion) I should like to say, though Most unfortunately This is a familiar circumstance. Whenever I need my time… It’s nowhere to be found! Perhaps it likes to tease me. Perhaps it’s just mean. Perhaps I never even had it. But all that aside As I sit here twiddling my thumbs All I can really deduce Is that my time certainly is not here! So where, oh where, has my time gone?


molten michello lo


2030 anna lee


a goodbye to our founding execs. but it’s not the end! whats next?

haley chung editor-in-chief i’ve always known that i wanted to move back to my birthplace one day, but i never could’ve predicted that the move would happen so soon. in the fall, i’ll be in new york studying something pre-law, creative writing, and film studies at columbia university. all while eating all the shawarma i can find. over the next few years, i hope to be a legal human rights activist and also direct a disney movie . . . but we’ll see where life takes me! no matter what, i’ll never stop writing or forget the impact jnb lit has had on my life.

danielle graham editor-in-chief at age five, i wanted to be a florist. maybe it was because of the look on my mom’s face when i handed her dandelion bouquets or the brilliant reds and oranges of the wildflowers at garry point, but something had attracted me to the idea of creating gorgeous flower arrangements. while this won’t come to pass, my botanical dream lives on in a dwarf umbrella tree and a tiny ficus beneath my bedroom window. at age sixteen, i decided to be a nurse. the more i pondered a career in nursing, the more it just seemed to make sense. after doing the foundations in health studies program at langara, i hope to move on to their nursing program and become a registered nurse. though my five year-old self may have a few objections, i know without a doubt that the person i have chosen to be is someone i can be proud of and i’m incredibly grateful for my family and friends who have guided me to where i am now. thank you, jnb.


rosanna tsang creative + visual director ever since i was a child, i wanted to become a police officer. then a doctor. then a paramedic. and then a nurse. now, it seems that i have steered away from the medicine route and have become pretty dead set on becoming a child protection social worker. although my goals in life may never lead me to cross paths with the likes of jnb lit, besides the occasional poem or art piece to process my feelings, i will always remember this club as the unexpected wonderful medley of freedom, passion, creativity and friendship that it was, and will continue to be, even after my friends and i have left it.

tiffany au creative + visual director when i was younger, i knew that i wanted to be involved in the arts, but never knew specifically what field of arts i was the most passionate about. jnb lit (and the art teachers!!!) have really helped find my passion for graphic design. after applying to numerous art schools, and lots of thinking, i’ve decided to start school at sfu’s school of contemporary arts for dance, and hopefully something related to visual arts and design as well in the near future. i know dance is probably the furthest from graphic design but i hope to be able to be doing both in a few years. i will forever be grateful for the opportunities this club has given me and i will miss working on the magazine and seeing everyones creative submissions!

teresa li general exec. since the beginning of high school, i have always set my mind to staying close to home for university. never would i have thought, i would study life sciences at the university of toronto. despite the worries and struggles of living alone and moving to another city, i know that my family and friends will always support me. this great independence marks the beginning of a new chapter where i would be creating my journey and pursuing my endeavours.

michael liang secretary for someone who hasn’t been able to answer that for the past four years, i am happy to say that what’s next is no longer a mystery. in a surprising turn of events, i was miraculously accepted into the ubc faculty of science where i hope to study biophysics. so what’s next? a ton of sleepless nights, a startling amount of morning courses, and a host of good memories. what’s next? the first day of the rest of my life!


"What a wonderful life I’ve had! I only wish I’d realized it sooner." - Sidonie-Gabrielle Colette

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thanks for reading! catch you in our next issue!

with love,

J.N. BURNETT'S LITERARY MAGAZINE CLUB



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