K Basement The Basement (WSU)

One of the less haunted ones. Though if you’ve not been there in the dark, it’s not comfy nor is it the most inviting place. But here’s what I saw:

11:00 pm — there were flashes for a moment, and I thought that it was finally my time to leave this plane of existence. The worst part though? I was ready and accepting of my new life no longer breathing.

12:00 am — There was a voice. Now what that voice said? I don’t know, but there was a voice. It was high-pitched and was just like screeching through the building.

4:00 am — One other voice could be heard. But the jury is out on whether it was just me hearing shit this time. Maybe I wanted it to be another voice in the hopes that this wasn’t going to become a few more hours of silence that were interrupted by my staggered breath and popcorn lung.

7:00 am — Finally made my exit and it wasn’t the most interesting night. I enjoyed my stay but I probably wouldn’t stay again. Those padded seats don’t provide much comfort nor is the material that nice on the skin. Note to those planning on staying, bring a pillow and a blanket. It’s cold and you need to be better prepared than I ever was. Caution to the win.

2:00 am — The concrete court of terror is actually so much nicer at night. Just fucking kidding, it’s colder and reminds me of what brutalist architects dream about. So my nightmare really. There were shadows and shit everywhere but nothing could take my attention from the absolute design monstrosity of that hole. It’s grey and god awful.

6:53 am — Siri, how can I do a wellness check for a student? Left at midnight and back at the asscrack of dawn. The commitment? Palpable. Mental health? Completely wrecked. I worry about all of you. I may not have discovered ghosts but the spirits are present. Broken spirits of sad 3rd or 4th year kids unable to distinguish between life and work. My bros, take a night to sleep. Those readings aren’t shit.

Final verdict?

Law kids are built differently. Case closed, sustained.

7:20 pm — My earliest start, but also so damn busy. Do you Law kiddies never rest? Because here I am waiting to start my night of slumber only to be met with students everywhere.

12:00 am — No shit of a lie, kids only all left at this point. Maybe I’m just not well versed but are you having a “who’s the saddest sack with no personal life” competition? If so, the student wearing a suit jacket and button up Hawai’ian shirt takes the win, sorry mate but come on.

9:00 pm — Had to dim my laptop brightness because I’m fairly certain that someone came in to check that the theatre was empty. Surprise shawty, I’m watching minecraft videos with my headphones on. Lucky I’m too poor for the noisecancelling kind, hey.

2:00 am — Okay, you’re for sure never going to believe me but I almost got a photo of the ghost. Ghost is probably a stretch but please find attached a blurry pic of what I believed to be an apparition that showed themselves to me. Although on second thought, it could be just the light from my phone reflecting. Fuck.

7:00 am — Nothing to be found here. Packed up my shit and hit the road. No ghouls, only my brain failing me in all scenarios. Sorry team.

Not the worst choice, but it was sort of uncomfortable as I couldn’t really get anywhere soft enough to relax. I tried behind the whiteboard but got freaked. Scary but not like The Conjuring, DNF.

1:00 am — I went for a wander (bring shoes to stop doors from closing and plan accordingly) and found lots of art but was met with a hella scary sight of just nothing. Ya know when you get to the top of the stairs and look towards the door facing R block? Well, have you seen it at night? How about going down the stairwell by the elevator? Oh, you don’t? Well get the FUCK out of my dms before you start accusing me of not having guts.

5:00 am — No part of me would like to let you know about the sound I made when I saw a student coming in to start their day. I’d spent about 3 hours hiding in the bathroom when I saw my reflection in the hall window–thinking it was going to be la llorona. I need to stop watching James Wan horror. Shout out to the young wāhine for not calling security when I screamed in her face. Cheers.

If you want to recreate the stair scene from Parasite, I have the location for you, and the lighting wouldn’t take much to recreate with that shoddy wiring.

I’m not going to structure this by time, because there’s a major absence of time when you’re sitting under a table in the old cafeteria. There’s no light or sound except a subtle hum with a flicker from the once used advertising boards. Switching them on helped me have something. I needed something to help ground me in reality, everything was unreal and fading. My light was diming, internal self-worth diminishing to nothing. Enough on my failing on Tinder, this shit is so fucking haunted team.

I genuinely did see something staring at me from the door-way. Was it the souls of failing teaching students? Was it that awful painting coming to life? Or was it all the worst versions of myself manifesting themselves in a visual form? All answers are yes because TC is a bottomless pit, a succubus whose only goal is to ruin my life and the lives of those around me.

At all points in the evening, I felt the presence of something and someone around me. I’m not exaggerating, that place is alive and the spirits are angry. I pray for the souls of everyone that’s ever had to spend time in there, shit’s off and I don’t think I’ll ever recover. But the snacks in the fridge were alright, solid comeback.

10:00 pm — It’s quiet here. Ha ha, I get the irony okay, though it’s exceptionally silent, even my breath is nervous that it’s going to get told off for making sounds. There was a low hum downstairs, I’m sure it’s something to do with kids actually doing some study. Maybe a building open all night wasn’t the right choice. But I was alone on the top floor so, can’t complain hey.

11:45 pm — This was when things got interesting, I could hear someone roaming around but every time I looked it seemed to be emptier than the last. Almost like the aisles got darker, longer, emptier. This was about the time I wanted to throw in the towel, but I’m persistent. Or stubborn. Both are false and true.

7:00 am — I crashed out, sorry I couldn’t report more. The honest truth is that I got one of the best sleeps of my life in there. Fuck me it was good, catch you in the stacks. Come say hey to me and Casper.

You’re all missing out (or I’m late to the party) with sleeping in the aisles through the Library. Not shit, I’ll be returning when I’m feeling like some REM sleep or just some comfy ambience. Apart from the footsteps. I’ll let them go.

If I was giving final rankings and thoughts, they would go as follow:

K Basement was av as, bad start as I got kicked out. +5 shit-cunt security.

The Basement was the most empty feeling–there was nothing going on but I kept getting a fright from nothing. +3 scary

L Block slept in a theatre. The only ghosts you could feel were kids sleeping through an English paper. +5 Shakespeare in love

The Library wasn’t the first time but was the first time I felt actual life in there. Wish it had turned out like ghostbusters. +666 gooey ghost cumshots

S Block had the most interesting experience. Said no one ever. +7 uses for the building other than thoroughfare.

Law can you all be so fucking forreal and just head home for a moe. +8.9 for utilising your after hours access.

Teaching College the scariest hole you could get stuck in. Well except for Judith Collins. +10 talofas

You can’t lie and tell me that there’s no ghosts roaming the empty halls in the early hours of the AM or under the guise of midnight blues. But if you want to lie or argue with me, you can flick me an email and I’ll happily tell you that you’re wrong and I don’t have to listen to you. Why do I have this right? Well because I’m a hard-hitting journalist with no intent on changing my opinion. Email is informant@ nexusmag.co.nz, light it up mate.

Catch me next time when I explore ‘Where to leave your shit so it doesn’t get stolen so you can run and grab a bite to eat within classes’.

NIHILISM RULES, BOYS DROOL

I can’t believe that people still care in this day and age. As a society, undeniably, we are fucked. All the bullshit that’s happening with the economy, and the environment, and politics, and the internet and all that Bo Burnham Inside shit is not only fucking debilitating, it’s forced in our faces everyday by the online! Ever heard about the Willow Project? Of course you freaking have, it’s drilling its way through every fyp in the goddamn Spider Verse.

Nihilism has a special place in my heart, I’ve loved it ever since Rick and Morty graced the screen of my Android Tablet back in the olden days (2017). Not only is the concept AGGRESSIVELY atheist (which was kind of my vibe at the time), but also it meant that I didn’t have to try at anything! In that moment I secured my fate as a high school dropout. Why should I do assignments when I can stay home and Pickle in her Rick till she Morty.

Also, if I dropped nihilism now, my lifestyle would be kind of fucked. If I started caring too much about the goodness of the world, the amount of empty chocolate milk bottles in my fridge would probably make me double give up. It’s a lot, but I have to rinse them out if I wanna put them in the recycling and it’s just a whole thing and I can’t deal with that rn okay? OKAY????????? THANK you.

I’m not saying there’s no joy in the world. I believe we should find our joy in the little things. Y’know, because all the big picture things are lost causes. It’s like a painting of a dead baby with really good shading, or a man’s personality AMIRITE HAHA UP TOP. C’mon, up top. Don’t leave me hanging haha. Up top. High five me. Come on I’m serious haha. Please.

I understand that maybe this will undercut the whole ‘not caring’ point but could no one please judge me for the chocolate milk thing, I’ve been SO busy with all my other responsibilities.

Optimism is not for the weak

I may not be the most optimistic person, nor do I know what the meaning of life is because we’re all going to die anyways and oblivion is inevitable. However, that does not mean that I don’t have certain hopes about the future. The world is going to shit, that much is true. But I couldn’t give two shits about the world. What I do care about is me, and the way I want to live my own life. I strive to be optimistic for myself, because I was born into this world and given a chance to be happy. But then, what even is happiness? For me, it’s whatever I want it to be.

This might be a little bit confusing, so I’ll try my best to explain it in a way that even a child could understand. I don’t have hope for the world. I don’t care about having hope for all those around me. I genuinely just care about myself. And I have so many hopes and dreams that I’m confident will come true. And if you ask me “why? You just spoke about oblivion. No one will even remember you.” Okay? And? I’m not allowing myself to be optimistic about things to be remembered. I don’t want my name slapped on the tallest building in New York (actually, having something like the Stark Tower would be dope as shit). I’m doing it, so that when I eventually die, I’ll know that I was pretty fucking cool and pretty fucking happy.

- Yashanshi Kala

I stay away from (serious) personal opinionated pieces. It gets heated. And real. It’s not me. The heated part, I’m hundred percent natural. No Kim K money here. Life’s too short to get angry. Too short to care about others’ opinions and have it dictate you. Therefore, I don’t write them. I have no desire to persuade someone unless it's related to law or how precious novels are. It’s safe to say that I mind my own business. No grudges, no fake smiles, just co-existing with respect, despite (if) we share any history. Though I occasionally roast people, that’s how far it gets. That’s what my boss pays me to do. There is, however, something I’ve lately been exposed to. A lot more than before. Hypocrisy.

I received an email—like my peers—from my lecturer. It was regarding group work. Everyone hates their group members, let’s be honest. You’re not real if you don’t want to throw them in that dirty pond we all see daily. I know I do. Always.

The problem was that students wanted to kick group members out because of their lack of “ability”. Language abilities. That struck me. It doesn’t matter how old you are or where you study, people will remain selfish and judgmental. It’s wrong to blame a romantic partner for their “lack of communication skills and effort” when we ourselves don’t do the same on a regular basis. With acquaintances. Forget about relationships.

The issue, I realised, wasn’t necessarily the amount of contribution someone was making in the assignment. It was the effort these morons had to put to “explain” to their international group members what was to be done. It’s different working under pressure and not working at all. These are the same students who lick professor’s asses. Same students, regardless of gender, go around protesting for the “right causes” on Instagram. These are the same students who do 5% of the group work but make it seem like they did it all. I’ve encountered one of those. You’re welcome for the grade btw. My mum has taught me the importance of charity work.

Now, let’s be a little less sentimental about this and consider logic. One that a lot of you lack. So, let’s educate one another. These students pay over $32,000 per year. Per year. Most of us won’t even make this much after getting our top-notch degree. A degree that’s clearly failed to teach us common sense and manners. This figure doesn’t include accommodation, food, travel, and other expenses. Some of them don’t even have jobs. It’s hard. Life is hard. Make it less hard by not being a dick. It’s easy. Shut. Up. Since one individual—many individuals—capability and English-speaking skills are being measured, let’s weigh $888 (the amount domestic students pay per paper) to $4091 that international students pay. $888. Half of which can be easily saved by Student Allowance or covered by student loan if you spent less on your situationship. Did it even last? Back to important topics, weigh that amount. Weigh that amount to our insensitivity.

Kicking someone out of a group assignment— making them feel left out—stopping them from passing the paper and receiving the “quality” education we all want. That. That is called being selfish. You’re busy with work. That’s a reason, sure. They take time to understand and wrap their head around these new concepts and that’s “hard” to deal with? Think. Think about it.

You’ve come here to talk about kinks with me? Isn’t that sweet. Instead of me giving the spiel about why and how you should be respectful of any and all kinks (while I’m your sex positive older sibling, even I have my limits), I want to compile a list of some of the more obscure and intriguing kinks that I’ve stumbled across one way or another. They’re going to be ranked based on commonality and popularity. Buckled up (precursor?) and get ready for a wild ride.

Bondage

I’m sure we’ve all experienced even the smallest form of bondage in one way or another. Whether the tie on the wardrobe door has pushed you to experiment or perhaps you’ve just really enjoyed the feeling of the ropes at the gym on your bare skin, there’s probably been a case for enjoying bondage in some form right?Bondage is a form of restraint. To get into it, you can tie someone up to a bed frame using a tie or scarf or, if you’re like me and have a box spring cunt, you could start by simply binding the arms together.

Podophilia

Those giggles don’t make this any less common. Feet just seem to tickle certain fantasies, and who are we to judge? Perhaps I can’t quite understand the fetish, but I can respect how INTO it fans of feet are. For those uncertain, use the process of elimination my bros.

Spectrophilia

Stay with me here. I can kind of see it right? You know that scene from Scary Movie 2 when Shorty fucks the ghost? Or when that one girl gives head to the ghost? Am I turned on by Scary Movie 2? Would make sense. There’s more to it but the gist is that people want to fuck ghosts and maybe, just maybe, I can get behind it.

Lithophilia

You know how some people just will not shut the hell up about crystals and their moonstones or some shit? Well this isn’t exactly that because it's an attraction to gravel and stones. But that’s all the same stuff in my mind. I can’t personally say I’ve cum from gravel-rash though I can’t explicitly say it wouldn’t in the future. Whatever scuffs your knees.

Stygiophilia

This is an arousal to the thought of hellfire and damnation. I mean holy fuck. I want to know more, can’t help but let my curious brain wander at to the extent of how much they want to be fucked into hell. Does it stop at Satan or are we going all the way to his three-pronged uncut schlong. Either way, I’m curious.

Xylophilia

I know there’s no actual correlation between morning wood and Xylophilia. See where I’m going? It’s being turned on by wood. Now I can’t be the only one thinking back to the image that used to go around on Facebook of the trussy (tree-pussy). The rākau that looked like it had spread eagle and would give you the tightness in return. I’m only wording it this way in the hopes that someone out there just found their niche that I’m sure they’ll love explaining to their future partner(s).

What we’ve discovered is that there’s every kink under the sun (Actirasty), and we’ve not begun to scratch the surface. What I hope is gained from this is that you’re not afraid of exploring the deeper recesses of your sexual psyche. Sex can be spicy or it can be as vanilla as listening to Taylor Swift and engaging in missionary. Be open and receptive to trying new things that you discover but also what your partner suggests–don’t close yourself off to the idea because you never know what becomes your new favourite activity. Stay safe and buy foot doms if you’re planning to spelunk.

Jak: Easy first question, how are you doing at the moment?

Ava: Tired and busy but ultimately better than ever!

Jak: Tell us more about how you found yourself in the world of bass and what that looked like?

Ava: My Mum is a music fanatic and I pretty much grew up listening to her jamming beats at all different times of the day. As I got older my friends would always jam on the decks at pre’s before going to raves and it looked like so much fun. I then found myself working behind the bar in Back Bar and after watching the Resident DJ’s play there every weekend I knew I could no longer ignore my itch to start mixing.

Jak: As a prominent woman in the industry, how do you deal with dick-swinging dj’s who want to minimise your talent?

Ava: Honestly, I just have a smile and wave mentality towards this. There’s always going to be people trying to tear you down, especially in the music industry. You can’t avoid it so the best thing you can do is believe in yourself and your talent and not let other people’s opinions or judgement define you and effect what you bring to the table. One of my sayings to hype myself up is “Whatever they said I couldn’t do, I did”.

Jak: If you had to explain what you play without using music terms, how would you?

Ava: Ahhh Drum & Bass? That’s a music term. I guess music that’s a little bit different to the norm. I definitely don’t play Miley Cyrus or anything that you would really hear on the radio. I’m passionate about Dubstep and House music as well but DNB is where my heart will always lie because of how high energy it is and how much fun you can have while mixing it.

Jak: What’s your current rotation? Or rather who's on that rotation?

Ava: I’m really vibing with Goddard at the moment! All of his new tunes hit the spot for me. I’ve also been listening to a lot of vibey liquid drum & bass lately.

Jak: Using only high school superlatives (most likely too’s) explain who you were 5 years ago and who you are now.

Ava: I can’t even remember what I got voted as for most likely too’s but probably something very tame lol. I was super shy, a bit of a book nerd and I wanted to be a graphic designer. Fast forward to now and I’m super loud, still shy but outwardly a lot more confident and comfortable in my own skin and now I want to go into broadcasting! Obviously with still being able to have my lil DJ career on the side. So probably most likely to lose a fight to a cockroach then and now… probably most likely to be the only one on the dance floor

Jak: Who’s on your dream gig lineup?

Ava: Oh man don’t ask me this. Without giving reasons or explanations…Camo & Krooked, Calvin Harris, Diplo, Friction, Bou, Faithless, Fatboy Slim, Daft Punk, Turno and Modestep

Jak: What should we be looking out for in the future? Any big projects? Major gigs?

Ava: Honestly I know as much about my future as anyone else does but I do have ANODNB coming up at the Factory and Cinema one happening at the Mount on Good Friday. I hope to play a festival this year as a short term goal and ultimately my long term goal is to start producing and play a gig overseas but I’m not putting too much pressure on that at the moment cause I’m having a lot of fun where I am right now regardless

8 / 10

Anime tv show

Tehana

De Klerk

I feel like there’s a bit of a misconception about My Hero because of how crazy some “fans” are, but I’m here to tell you that this season is dope as shit. With only one episode left, season six of My Hero Academia has single handedly outdone every other season. There’ll be a few tiny spoilers here.

This season we have been introduced to a lot of character development of those that we know and love. Rabbit Hero Mirko finally got to show just how badass she really is and we finally got the backstories of Dabi and Hawks (they nearly made me cry). And that’s not all! All For One and Shigaraki are on some OP shit, and so is Deku. Izuku Midoriya’s vigilante arc (while I wish it lasted longer) was amazing. He has truly grown as a main character.

Season six also dives more into the Todoroki family (fuck you Endeavour), but what I thought was really amazing was how they showed Class A’s relationship with Deku. Aizawa wins best teacher for me, and Bakugo finally apologises to Deku (I cried that time). He gets his hero name too.

Some people did have negative stuff to say regarding the animation, but as someone who reads the manga too, I honestly didn’t have a problem with it.

Anyways, stan All Might because he’s just trying to help.

7 / 10

Documentary

Jak Rata

Evelyn is a documentary that follows director Orlando von Einsiedel and his family as they try to cope with the suicide of his brother Evelyn, who suffered from schizophrenia and depression. And holy fuck, does it just punch you in the face in the first 3 minutes, opening with the reading of the note itself.

The film shows them taking long walks across the UK, the siblings visiting places that Evelyn loved and opening up about their feelings and memories. It's a very emotional and honest film that explores how grief affects different people and how hard it is to talk about mental health issues. It’s well shot, with the majority of the camera work being on the unseen companion. With them either mounting it on their backpack or walking backwards for the more intimate moments, capturing the rawness.

If you’re ready for a cry but to also spend a moment with whānau talking about mental health–then buckle in for this one aye.

Designer's note:

This is me admitting that Jak was right and this colourway fucking slaps. But also we played a game of odds. Can ya tell who lost? Jak has assured me there's no such thing as losers, only second winners.

Food

Namaste Kitchen. I love you. Sorry, did I come on too strong? Can you blame me? Your $4 chips with butter chicken sauce is not only a deal but genius as well. I mean, the best part about butter chicken is objectively the sauce. On top of that, the salt to chip ratio is always spot on and the container of sauce is the perfect amount. Don’t get me started on the extra $4 for a hotdog! Ok, you’ve got me started. Perfectly battered and complemented beautifully by the sweet orange elixir it comes with. Me oh my. I won’t hold it against you guys that you’ve already upped your prices in my brief time here. It's tough out there and demand for butter chicken sauce with battered assortments is at an all time high (and understandably so).

Now, somebody in the office this week had the absolute nerve to say that your butter chicken doesn’t contain real chicken. I will not buy into these defamatory remarks; I simply do not believe them. I trust you, Namaste Kitchen.

I’ve seen that you guys have donuts now. Yet another genius move by you tycoon’s as you look to take over the village green one delicious venture at a time. Now, I am yet to indulge in these myself but my gluten-free friend is a sucker for them despite the pain he endures as a result. I think this puts into words what I simply cannot.

This is my ode to Namaste Kitchen. You beautiful, beautiful cooks. Keep churning out that butter chicken sauce and chips, just make sure you remember me when you’ve taken over McDonalds and achieved global dominance.