Strike Magazine Tallahassee Issue 12

ISSUE 12

TABLE F CONTENTS

Marisa Balzano

Tik Tok Director: Quentin Mantilla Team: Sophia Elliott Katiana Redchuk Isabella Botero

Photography

Sophia

Brand

Videography

EXTERNAL DIRECTOR, TIA KEARNEY

This semester has been absolutely amazing working on Issue 12! I am so proud of everything all of the staff has put into it and cannot wait to see everything Strike continues to do in the future!!!

ADVERTISING DIRECTOR, EMMA ROUSH

I am so grateful to have been a part of another amazing issue of Strike! Thank you to my amazing team for being so creative and hard-working; you all never cease to amaze me!!

SALES DIRECTOR, ALEX PITTMAN

Huge shoutout to the amazing sales assistants and all their hard work! This semester in strike has truly been one of a kind and I couldn’t be more thankful to have been a part of it.

DIGITAL DIRECTOR, ISABEL CHOI

I am so honored to have been lucky enough to be the Strike Digital Director this year. Working amongst such talented directors and team members has been such a beautiful experience. I am so very grateful for my amazing team and all that we accomplished and created this semester together. I couldn’t have asked for more creative and hard-working people to join me on my first semester as a director. You all truly made this year so special and memorable to me. I’m so proud!

INSTAGRAM DIRECTOR, ABBEY KENT

I am so grateful for another semester with Strike and the opportunity to showcase so many creative, hardworking individuals. I value the supportive community Strike has grown and look forward to continuing on with that. I’m so proud of everyone on the teams and the directors for all the work they put in every week, it doesn’t go unnoticed. Strike out!

MERCHANDISE DIRECTOR, DELANEY HANSON

So grateful to be a part of Strike! Huge shoutout to my merch team - you guys are AWESOME <3

BEAUTY DIRECTOR, KATIE RUSSELL

I’m so beyond proud of the creativity and and talent my beauty team continues to bring to Strike! I’m forever grateful to be a part of a community that is so supportive in every way

PHOTOGRAPHY DIRECTOR, LALO AMBRIS

Thank you all for being so amazing! You all have worked so hard and slayed every shoot! I want you guys to know how important you all are, you bring this magazine to life!! I am so honored to have worked with you all and I love y’all! MUAH.

VIDEOGRAPHY DIRECTOR, KEVIN FARLEY

I am so lucky to work with such a creative team of individuals who all share a similar vision. The talent that goes into producing this magazine is truly amazing and I can’t wait for everyone to see the hard work, dedication, and artistic ability that Issue 12 showcases!

GRAPHICS DIRECTOR, GIANA CAREW

Strike has been such a big part of my life for the past 3 years and I could not be more thankful to be surrounded by such creative minded individuals. Special thank you to my talented graphics team, I am so proud of you ALL!

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LAYOUT DIRECTOR, STELLA HUMBERG

It has been the experience of a lifetime serving as your layout director this semester! So thankful and proud of Taylor, Abigail, Chloe, Eden, Alex, and Clara! And a special thank you to my biggest supporter, Lauren! Xoxo

WRITING DIRECTOR, LEXI FERNANDEZ

Joining Strike was easily one of the best decisions I’ve ever made, and it’s not every day that you come across such outstanding creativity. I am so lucky to work alongside such a talented group of directors, and I could not be more proud of all that my team has accomplished this semester!

BRAND AMBASSADOR DIRECTOR, KAYLA CROOKS

Thank you so much to my team and fellow directors. As a first time director with Strike, this experience has been so rewarding. For many more amazing issues to come!!

FINANCE DIRECTOR, FATIMA HAMAD

Thank you so much to my finance team for being absolutely amazing! You have each played such a pivotal role in the creation of this magazine. Thank you for making this experience memorable! Let’s manage some more money!!!!! $$$$$$$$$

EDITOR’S LETTER EDITOR’S LETTER

While leading my third issue as the Editor-in-Chief of Strike Magazine, I was always trying to find ways to improve upon what we last created. Issues 10 and 11 had exceeded my expectations of what we could make as student-creatives and when brainstorming theme ideas over the Summer, I struggled with the fear of not being able to top what we did last year. However, every shoot was better than the last, every article was more engaging than the one before it, and every graphic was more eyecatching than I could have imagined. Put simply: my insanely talented staff has, once again, knocked it out of the park with this issue.

As I worked alongside my wonderful Creative Director, Abby Marcil, to brainstorm a theme, it took us no time at all to get on the same page about what we envisioned with Issue 12. We wanted readers to be captivated by striking imagery, creative concepts, and outside-of-the-box thinking, all while circling around one major theme. After pitching “PERCEPTION,” it was an immediate yes.

To Abby, thank you for everything you have done and continue to do for this magazine. Your creativity and drive are unmatched and it has been an absolute pleasure to put our heads together to create this magazine. It has been wonderful to watch you grow in your confidence as Creative Director and I can’t wait to see what else you are capable of.

To my incredible board of directors, thank you all so much for everything you do. I was shocked and elated by the collaborative nature of this semester’s board and each of you has blown me away with your dedication to this magazine. Your hard work is so appreciated and none of this would have been possible without the countless hours you have dedicated to this publication.

To every staff member who put their heart into this magazine, thank you. The love and creativity of the Strike Magazine Tallahassee staff is present on each and every page. Thank you for working hard, supporting each other, and continuing to impress me with everything that you do.

To my loving friends and family who have supported me in every step of my journey with Strike, I am eternally grateful for everything you have done for me. From helping me scout shoot locations, to responding “SICK” when I ask your opinion on a photo, to just listening to me talk about my magazine for hours; your support for what I do has helped me tremendously in leading Strike Magazine.

I am unbelievably proud of what we have created and I feel blessed every day to have found this exceptional publication that feels like home. It is with great pride that I share Issue 12 with you; I hope you love it as much as I do!

With love, I give you: PERCEPTION.

Strike Out, Your Editor-in-Chief, Tabitha Labrato

A NOTE FROM THE CREATIVE DIRECTOR

A NOTE FROM THE CREATIVE DIRECTOR

When Tabitha and I were brainstorming the theme for this issue, we hoped for our staff to capture different and unique perspectives, angles, and ways the audience may perceive the world or themselves. With a broader theme such as “Perception”, we wanted a variety of funky angles, colors, and meanings. After flipping through Issue 12, I believe we achieved just that!

I am incredibly proud of my Shoots team for their creativity, effort, and hard work this semester. I am honored to lead this phenomenal group of people. From waking up before sunrise to staying late on a Sunday night, I can always count on my Shoots team to deliver an AMAZING shoot, all the way down to the details. I appreciate each and every one of you and I’m so lucky to be able to work with you all.

I am honored to work alongside Tabitha, our outstanding leader and Editor-In-Chief, throughout Is sue 12. Her abilityto successfully lead a great number of people is so inspiring and I continue to learn so much from her every day. I love her positivity, creativity, and passion for Strike Magazine and I hope to reach her level of success and confidence one day. I am already SO excited to continue working with Tabitha; we make a great team!

My first semester as Creative Director has been everything I hoped for. I am so fortunate to be a part of Strike Magazine. Being Creative Director has helped me grow in so many ways and I have enjoyed every single moment. I appreciate every person I’ve worked on this issue with, you all are amazing. Also, special shoutout to Matt, Anna, Rene, and my parents for constantly hearing me talk about Strike, helping me find props in our garage, and being my number one supporters.

Hope you all enjoy Issue 12!

Strike Out, Your Creative Director, Abby Marcil

on cloud nineon cloud nine

She looks in the mirror for the fifth time, her identity altered with each glance. “Is this how life should be lived? Am I living life to the fullest? Am I on the right track?” This mirror is playing tricks. She constantly chases an idealized state of opportunity that lies on the adrenaline of adventure. Trying to make sense of her thoughts, she thinks about the world around her and wonders if everyone is chasing the same goals. Just walking through the streets, she observes how people present and maintain different versions of themselves. She feels a constant spin of ideas in her head that takes her into an illusion of self-satisfaction, where she decides that happiness is an intrinsic motivation that comes from within. Empowered by this introspective clarity, she adopts a new mantra: fake it until you make it. Her tongue begins to tingle. She looked at the mirror for so long, her reflection transformed into a dysmorphic hallucination.

Her taste buds meet with magic mushrooms and she waits for her trip to cloud nine. The walls begin to curve, geometric shapes form around her, and she finds bliss. The world around her radiates euphoria. Her perception of life and society is warped in the best way possible. Her mind begins to let go of the mental distress and strain from taking herself so seriously. This escape from reality was everything she needed to open her mind to the freedom of life. The mirror no longer seems to cloud her perspective but rather offers a new perception. This time, she looks in the mirror and only sees opportunity. She looks again and no longer feels confined.

Outside she finds that she is walking on a cloud. This cloud represents everything she hopes to feel in life. She is comfortable,

peaceful, and dissociated from reality. Colors begin to blend into black and white, emotions disappear, thoughts slow down, and her soul and mind connect. There is simplicity here, where she is transported through a black-and-white dreamscape and returned to a state of normalcy. Her body feels loose as she runs around aimlessly on a cloud of hope, meaning, and love. It seems that life is an illusion that she creates in her head. Life should always be seen this way. Why does she see the world around her in such a beautiful way, and how can she hold on to this consciousness? On this cloud, there are no mirrors, no internal battles of achievement, and no limits to growth. She realized that her brain is powerful and she could open her mind to the beauty in life. As she enters back into reality, she begins to appreciate life and its newfound meaning. Life doesn’t offer an explanation for why things are the way they are. She became aware that she is in control of her own destiny, and she alone has the power to alter her state of mind. Her third eye has been opened. Her spiritual connection with her mind has allowed her to take in wisdom, awareness, and perception. That mirror does not determine her identity. That feeling of being on cloud nine does not only have to occur on a trip. The original chase for contentment was all an illusion to society’s standards. She finally cracked the code in her mind.

Editors:

Shoot

Photographer:

Videographer:

Writer: Bella Ferretti

Noelle Knowlton & Lexi Fernandez

Staffers: Sophia Pinilla, Brianna Piderit, Anisa Velazquez Beauty: Emily Rojo, Brynn Lewin Models: Richard Contiero-Bortolli, Marlowe Mitchell

Michelle Poreh, Abby Marcil

Eva Akaishi Layout: Stella Humberg

HOW DID WE GET HERE?

The fact that the citizens of the United States, the most powerful empire on Earth, are politically polarized will likely come as an understatement to any native of the country. Each day as we read our own preferred politically charged news, we hear of one side threatening democracy and destroying our way of life, but is that really true and how did we get here?

Well, the largest contributor to our current political divide, like most of the problems plaguing the United States today, can be traced back to the 40th president of the United States, Ronald Reagan. A former actor, Reagan, utilized his charm and skill on camera to win the American public over in 1980 and was elected president against the incumbent, Jimmy Carter. In 1985, late into Reagan’s first term, FCC chairman Mark S. Fowler published a report critiquing the FCC fairness doctrine. The doctrine was a policy that mandated broadcast license holders to fairly present controversial issues “of public interest” and most importantly, to allow both sides on an issue equal and fair treatment on air.

In Fowler’s report, he criticized the fairness doctrine as a danger to the public and a hindrance to free speech, and in 1987, it was abolished by a 4-0 vote under new FCC chairman Dennis R. Patrick. Its abolition saw the start of more vicious and opinionated news coverage without the need to present another opinion. The most famous example of this is the career of conservative talk radio host Rush Limbaugh, who after the revocation of the fairness doctrine was signed by ABC Radio executive Ed McLaughlin to continue his controversial show, attacking liberals in the most provocative way imaginable, and promoting conspiracy theories. Limbaugh’s controversial opinions and broadcasts remained popular until his death last year.

Often opinions shape how people see the world. In

a world of social media and the internet, our opinions are permanently tied to these technologies. Stories and opinions are shared in mass, and anyone can say almost anything they want. Within the nature of the internet often something does not have to be fact-checked before being posted and can be advertised as the truth without any repercussions. Platforms like Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram allow users to market their own, as well as others’ ideas to anyone who will consume them which has helped contribute to the divide in today’s America. These platforms collect information on their users through the things they interact with online and then expose the users to other posts like this. Thus the political views of the users are often reaffirmed by the things they perceive on the internet.

According to a Pew Research article published in 2016, “the vast majority of social media users (83%) say that they usually just ignore the post and move on.” When there is not enough interaction with a diverse perspective it often causes a lack of exposure to views that are not the user’s own. This lack of perspective helps drive the political divide in this country. In a world ruled by the Internet, it’s impossible to ignore the effect it has on our view of the world. When exposed to one side of the story it’s hard not to take it as the whole truth. Exposure to other ideas and other points of view is healthy and can be beneficial for this nation. However no matter what, testing the validity and truth behind things posted on the Internet is essential, for both sides of the political spectrum.

Writers: Matias Civita & Dylan Kim / Editors: Raquel Gluckstern & Lexi Ferandez

It all started with a little piece of paper on his tongue. After all, life has been tough recently. He’s been struggling with school, work, relationships, and even his home doesn’t feel like home. There’s a constant overarching sense of discomfort following him around. As if something is looming in the shadows, waiting for a single misstep. He can’t take it anymore; he needs to know why. As his thoughts were reaching a breaking point, he heard kids at lunch talking about tripping this weekend.

He overheard someone say, “It’s pretty sick bro, it really lets you dive, like, into your mind man.”. At that moment, he knew exactly what he needed. Speaking to therapists never helped; they didn’t know what he was going through. The moment he got home, he whipped out his laptop and typed in LSD. For the next few hours, he did research. What does LSD do? How does it make you feel? Best places to trip? Where to find it? How to test it? Finally, his decision was made. “I, too, will be tripping this weekend,” he thought to himself. Finding acid was surprisingly easy for him- he just asked the “stoner” kid in his 6th-period history class. By the time he left school, the quarter-inch piece of paper was in his possession. Throughout his walk home, as he passed dozens of white picket fences, mossy oaks, and strangers, he would briefly pull out the tab of acid and stare at it in amazement. He couldn’t believe that a piece of paper that small could have all the answers he was looking for. But, for the first time in a long time, he felt in control. Thursday and Friday flew by in the blink of an eye, and before he knew it, Saturday arrived. His mother and her obnoxious boyfriend left for a weekend vacation once again, leaving the house in his care.

“Today is the day.”, he said to himself. He sat at the edge of his bed, placed the tab of acid upon his tongue, and laid back, allowing it to dissolve. He read online that acid takes anywhere

from twenty to ninety minutes to kick in, so he put the Red Hot Chili Peppers Californication album on shuffle and watched Bob Ross videos on mute. As each second passed, he began to feel more and more spaced out. Thoughts would shoot in and out of his head at a rapid rate, like atoms around a nucleus. It was all very overwhelming.

He wandered over to the bathroom, splashed his face with water, and as he was doing so, locked eyes with himself in the mirror. He was in a trance, all he saw was himself within himself; inception in its purest form. The next thought that popped into his mind was the one he found troubling himself day in and day out. What is my purpose? Each day on earth is a repetitive cycle; we wake up, we eat, we work, and we sleep, every day until we die. He found himself in a loop uttering the same six words for hours: wake up, eat, work, sleep, die. Until he couldn’t take it anymore. He was done with those pessimistic thoughts. Yes, life is a cycle. Yes, it can get repetitive. Yes, everybody dies. So what? Life’s limited quantity is what makes each waning moment so special. Sure, some days are better than others. But just because 3,000 seconds of one day were god-awful doesn’t mean the other 83,400 seconds should be thrown away. Once he developed this outlook, he vowed to never allow pessimistic thoughts to consume him again. He realized every moment on this earth is a gift to cherish, as each day is never guaranteed. Just like that, he found comfort within himself, which he never thought was possible.

Writer: Lucas Zaret / Editors: Jayna O & Lexi Fernandez

I wore rose-colored glasses when I loved you.

I awoke each morning to birdsong and rose gold light peeking through the cracks in my curtains.

My soft, warm sheets were easy to leave knowing you’d be getting back into them with me.

I saw beauty in the vase on the kitchen counter that you always kept filled with red tulips.

The books on your nightstand became my favorite, and I memorized the pages like scripture.

Even cold, cloudy days filled the sky with silver linings and gave my cheeks a pretty, pink flush.

But those glasses I once wore are broken, you knocked them off me.

The moments I witnessed in rosy hues now replay as icy memories.

I ignored that when the morning sun woke me, I’d pray you were in a good mood that day.

I ignored that I had to first fulfill my bedroom duty in order to sleep with the warmth of your body next to mine.

I ignored that the flowers smelled of guilt and the vase was only filled after we’d fought.

I ignored that I was so desperate for your approval that I’d read books till my fingers turned blue.

I ignored that the clouds blocked out the sun and the cold made my lips purple.

I see it all clearly now.

Quand il me prend dans ses bras Qu’il me parle tout bas Je vois la vie en rose Il me dit des mots d’amour Des mots de tous les jours Et ça me fait quelque chose Il est entré dans mon cœur Une part de bonheur Dont je connais la cause C’est lui pour moi, moi pour lui dans la vie Il me l’a dit, l’a juré pour la vie Et dès que je l’aperçois Alors je sens en moi Mon cœur qui bat

Writer: Sarah Gibson

Editors: Jayna O and Lexi Fernandez

Shoot Staffers: Rose Jackson, Lalo Ambris, Lexi Kreimeier, Isabella Dabage, Emma Edy Morris

Beauty: Emma Edy Morris

Models: Aleck Condon

Photographer: Milena Shakhnazaryan, Lalo Ambris

Videography: Joelle Stressler

Layout: Eden Znaty

Be careful what you

Altered perceptions of reality that are often portrayed in cinematic works, such as Coraline, are heavily influential on the way viewers make sense of their reality. We often make sense of our everyday lives through means of concepts, and ideas portrayed to us through the media. Part of the joy in watching a movie comes from the way in which we relate to the characters on the screen and identify with their experience, struggles, and successes. For that short time we spend watching a screen, we get to escape into a world other than our own, yet one we can still make sense of. Yet some movies, such as Coraline, call us back and force us to critically think about what we desire.

The influence of the media has caused us to daydream, longing for falsified realities. Coraline discovers herself in an alternate reality, where her dreams of a happy home are brought to life; however, everything changes when Coraline discovers this world isn’t what she thought it was and is not what she had truly desired. Coraline is escaping her poor situation and reaching for what she believes she wants. Every day we are bombarded with images and messages telling us what we want and what we need, creating false desires within us. Yet, the perfect reality we all struggle for is not always what it seems. The grass isn’t always greener on the other side.

The media has created anxiety within society, surrounding our own lives, causing us to think about what others have that we do not. As humans enticed and consumed by this medium, we are bound to a never-ending cyclical whirlwind of wants and desires that are simply unattainable. Social media platforms, cinema, and even music cause society to yearn for a world where everything aligns with their dream life. Films contain the power to transport their audience into an alternate reality, whether that is looking into the lives of a happy perfect family, or into a realm where dragons breathe fire and pigs can fly. It offers people an outlet, an escape, from their reality.

In American filmmaker Henry Selick’s Coraline, the main message goes against one’s longing to escape their life and rather conveys, “be careful what you wish for.” Protagonist Coraline longs for a world in which everything is colorful and full of joy, as she is tired of her mundane way of living. She discovers an eerie parallel universe reflecting her life and those surrounding her, yet they all have buttons instead of eyes. Although this alternate reality initially entices her, Coraline soon learns that it is far worse than her real life. The analogs of Coraline’s family crave power and want to control her forever. Once Coraline escapes, she comes to the realization that her life, even with its flaws, is one worth appreciating. Coraline teaches a lesson about feeling appreciative of the life you have.

Similar to Coraline, Henry Selick’s other films, such as The Nightmare Before Christmas (with whom he collaborated with the famous Tim Burton), and James and the Giant Peach also include themes of escapism and a strong yearning for something different and glorious. Audiences take pleasure in leaving reality behind for a few hours to become whisked away and in awe of watching fierce characters seek out their own destiny. An audience’s perception of a movie has the potential to light a flame under them. Not only does the cinema embody a form of escapism, but it comforts, motivates, and inspires.

Writers: Nikki Cohen and Caroline Giddens

Editors: Racquel Gluckstern & Lexi Fernandez

Shoot Sta ers: Anastasia McGill, Desa Dragovich, Jackie Esguerra, Alexa Martin

Beauty: Brynn Lewin, Haley McPherson

Models: Ella Brignoni, Bryan Gonzalez, Liana Ocampo

Photographer: Katrina Oro, Alex Suarez

Videographer: Britnee Blake

Layout: Abigail Endsley

Writer: Jayna O

Editor: Lexi Fernandez

Shoot Staffers: Rose Jackson, Lalo Ambris, Lexi Kreimeier, Isabella Dabage, Emma Edy Morris

Beauty: Brynn Lewin, Addison Nance

Models: Isabel Choi, Kolby Brown

Photographer: Abby Marcil

Videographer: Jenna Rosenbusch

Layout: Chloe Evers

Trapped within a cyber-sphere in which we are our own creators, our reality is self-made. We have the ability to depict ourselves as amassing wealth, status, beauty, and charm.

Like personalizing an avatar, we customize ourselves to our own specifications and ideals. We project an idealized version of ourselves, leading to a warped perspective of who we really are due to the curation of online representations and time spent online. This falsified projection of us exists but only in our minds and within the metaverse. We are all so transfixed on these hologram-like entities, that we cannot truly see one another in the living breathing flesh. On a computer server online, we become nothing but a figment.

The Internet and its counterparts have become integral in the ways we communicate and view each other, as Guy Debord puts it, “the spectacle is not a collection of images, but a social relation among people, mediated by images.” Due to the historical and cultural impact of the Internet since the dawn of its existence, our culture now consists of a simulacrum of media, images, and what it is like to exist as a modern-day human. Author Joe Bageant argued “we live inside a self-referential media hologram of a nation that has not existed for quite some time now. Our national reality is held together by images, the originals of which have been lost or never existed.”

Time spent entranced in the world of online ultimately generates neglect of one’s physical body and state of being. When browsing the web and interacting through social media, we become one with our imagination and our vision of perfection. By portraying ourselves through the mind and solely existing online, we alienate our senses, allowing ourselves to amalgamate, distort our brains, and abolish individuality.

Those entrenched in the throngs of the Internet go as far as to substitute real life for a mimicry of the real world through digitally based virtual or cyber relationships, interactions, friendships, and environments. Remaining online and anonymous offers a solution to those struggling with psychological or mental health issues and the

anxieties of the real world. Though as we sink more and more into the simulation, it can be difficult to distinguish reality from the online and differentiate one from another. Anonymous users become one, a homogeneous being staring from the other side of the screen. Or is it merely a reflection in the black mirror?

“We are all so trans xed on these hologram-like entities, that we cannot truly see one another in the living breathing esh.”

What crosses your mind when an advertisement for the dog food you were hoping to pick up appears in your social media feed the next day? Or when you’re not getting a response from someone you messaged, but you know to check their Snapchat activity to see when they were last on their phone? At first, you probably feel like these are great conveniences, and that with the convenience of technology, the world is at your fingertips.

However, if you think about it for long enough, you might realize what technology has become: a total invasion of privacy. Not only that, but one you fully, and likely unknowingly, consented to. Information and communication technology, whether it be your iPhone or your Instagram account, is designed to maximize the collection of data from its users. Our devices and applications end up learning a lot about us, such as our physical locations and frequent activities, facilitating what author Shoshanna Zuboff calls “surveillance capitalism.”

Zuboff describes surveillance capitalism as “the unilateral claiming of private human experience as free raw material for translation into behavioral data” in an interview with the Harvard Gazette. Device users are essentially being monetized, as the way their data is being mined and used to control their behaviors and predict their patterns becomes its own type of capitalism.

Even the social media mining thatcompanies, law enforcement, and other groups use for the ‘right’ reasons proves itself to be a slippery slope. Commonly used for policing, the mining of social media information by law enforcement and the government allows for the potential to track users’ movement and activity in an effort to stop crimes before they happen or lessen their severity. However, the systems elected to conduct these information searches have some serious,

life-altering defects. Some algorithms in facial recognition soft ware that were being used as early as 2019 were more likely to misidentify people of color than white individuals by 10 to over 100 times. It’s the use of this faulty technology that the groups using them are trusting to make the proper arrests, charges, and convictions.

High tech’s enablement of mass surveillance is taking place at a rapid rate. Unfortunately, due to the culture, it is flourishing under - one that demands products almost instantly - some of the bugs and kinks of facial recognition and AI soft ware won’t get fixed where they could and should. Meaning everything that’s disturbing about the ever-present eyes of our screens, from the monetization of its users to the misidentification of perfectly innocent people, will only get worse. Luckily, we are not without hope of bringing surveillance capitalism in our lives to an end.

The changes needed to accomplish this are significant, but not impossible, and consist of the following: shifting the public’s opinion and encouraging their indignation and outrage at what is truly going on, developing new laws and regulations that speak specifically to surveillance capitalism, and the founding of a competitive, alternate ecosystem that allows for the digital space to be everything it was originally promised to be. A space for creativity, connection, the homogenization of knowledge and information, and empowerment.

Writer: Lexi Fernandez

Shoot Staffers: Tabitha Labrato, Abby Marcil

Beauty: Brynn Lewin

Model: Kennedy White

Photographer: Lalo Ambris, Abby Marcil

Videographer: Kevin Farley

Layout: Stella Humberg

We are often told that freedom is limitless, that it is an individual experience of the mind, and that we are encouraged to embrace it, to revel in such a frame of mind. For many, the feeling of being free creates a meaningful sensation, one that is entirely dependent upon our perspective. With the idea of freedom comes fulfillment, something that we all subconsciously seek. There is an idea of what freedom is intended to be, for it is seen in the language used to compose our guiding structural systems. As a defining value for many, freedom is something with which we are acquainted, something that is assumed to have validity. Each characterization of freedom is left to be interpreted by the individual, blurring the lines of whether or not the notion is something that we have or something we are given permission to have. In developing and refining our understanding of the sensation and its meaning, we come to realize that freedom is an abstraction of sorts, something that exists only as an idea. Seen in symbols, in media, and in civil liberties, freedom makes its departure from what we once believed it to be it is nothing more or less than a fabrication of our own creation. If a distinct interpretation of freedom ever did exist, it disappeared a long time ago.

On an individual level, we like the idea of being free. It is the foundation upon which our reality, our existence, is built. Freedom encourages us to believe that people are good and that we are capable of change. Our perspective is forever tied to such a conviction, and, as a result, we learn to become more accepting of

life as it stands, breaking the boundaries of resistance. As we cross the barriers we have created for ourselves, we are better able to see the illusion of freedom. Serving as a downpour of reality, we question the seemingly unconditional nature of the liberties we once felt so empowered by. In this liminal space, we ask ourselves, “Are we ever truly free?”.

Our state of being is never entirely unbound from expectations, for we place pressure on the human experience, either to meet our own standards or for the satisfaction of others. We find ourselves chained to responsibility, pulling ourselves in countless directions in an attempt to grasp what is out of reach. In the pursuit of control over the unknown, we lose sight of our innate freedom, distracted by life’s circumstances and the potential of what could be. With self-reflection, we recognize that the most difficult barrier to cross is that of our own mind.

Naturally, freedom is an intrinsic experience, and the motivation to surpass boundaries must come from within. The belief that our ability to freely navigate the world is based upon structure and definition is deceitful; our mindsets are characterized by our ability to choose. Rather than focusing on the concern of whether or not freedom is something that we have or something we are given, we must recognize that the permission is ours to give. Freedom lies not in the world that surrounds us, but in the chance that we give ourselves to truly feel free.

The choice is ours.

FOR THE NIGHTS WE WON’T REMEMBER

The air was crisp and promising on that Friday night. Like clockwork, as soon as an inkling of the sun vanished the two-hour routine just to end up wearing the same wornout black crop top and ripped jeans commenced. With Megan Thee Stallion blasting in the background, drugstore makeup scattered across the dorm-room floor, and the sting of Pink Whitney hitting her throat- the night had officially begun. As a freshman in college, Friday nights are integral to building her new and fabulous college experience. The insanities that freshmen engage in at the club must be the stories that maids of honor tell at their best friends’ weddings, right? Nights where you end up completely obliterated to the point where you can’t even remember how you got home have got to be how you find lifelong friends, right?

If she was being completely honest with herself, staying home and rewatching reruns of One Tree Hill after an exhausting first week of being lost on a brand new campus sounded like a much more attractive way to spend the night. But alas, the promise of the night- who you’ll meet, where you’ll end up, the illusive yet exciting mystery of it all overpowered her exhaustion and she found sitting on the bathroom counter applying not just a second, but a third coat of blue mascara. A few shots of vodka later, before she knows it, her dorm room is suddenly packed with people she doesn’t know. Although she can barely move from the lack of space, she never felt more alone. Her head spinning, she asks the one girl she knew from Intro to Psychology, “I thought you were just bringing a couple of girls from your class for the pregame?” “Girl, they brought their friends too, just vibe before the Uber gets here”, she replied. She scarfs down some more Pink Whitney and before she knows it, the herd of unknown freshmen run flush out of the dorm and run downstairs to catch their Ubers, in hopes of embarking on a night they will never forget.

The following morning, she awakes in her dorm wearing the same worn-out black crop top and ripped jeans as the night before. With an intense trembling in her stomach, she jolts out of her extra-long twin bed and sprints toward the bathroom. The

reminiscent taste of Pink Whitney rolls off her tongue as she expels the endeavors of the night into the porcelain bowl. While staring at the white rim of the toilet seat and with a persistent pounding in her head, she tries to piece together the blurred events of the night before. Having no recollection of how the night went or how she was able to get back to her dorm, a bitter sense of dread creeps over her.

Looking around, she scrambles to find her phone. She finally locates it, and a flood of notifications bombards her screen. Multiple Snapchats, texts, and missed calls stare back at her. Before she can read or even respond to any of the messages, her phone dies. The black screen and dead battery icon taunt her as she plugs her phone into the charger. Dragging herself to the sink, she stares at the smudged blue mascara around her sunken eyes. She splashes her face with cold water as a sense of anxiety floods through her body. Her thoughts continue to race but she keeps asking herself the same questions — What happened last night? How did I get home? Why did I drink so much

Writers: Emily Valmana, Kyrsten Schneider / Editors: Jayna O, Racquel Gluckstern, & Lexi Fernandez

HAN

DLE WITH CARE

Celebrity culture is an immense aspect of our society and has enabled a minute percentage of people to have extreme power. This small-scale percentage often includes media personalities, high-fashion models, and influencers, suddenly making ordinary people extraordinary. Fame is a mutually beneficial business relationship, for those who are lucky, or unlucky, enough to have it. This has created a disconnect from reality which leads to the glorification of celebrities as we idolize the lavish lives these gorgeous models and influencers have that we don’t have. Unfortunately, we get to a point in which the constant adoration turns into obsession. If you find yourself becoming overly interested or involved in a celebrity’s life, you might just have Celebrity Worship Syndrome. A real condition, for a real problem. This problem leads to the dehumanization of celebrities and influencers.

We watch every move. Social media has made celebrities extremely accessible to the extent that we forget they are human. They feel the same emotions, have their own families and make their own mistakes, yet somehow we place them on a pedestal higher than any other. I have more than once heard my friends talk about a celebrity as if they were best friends, grew up together, and talked on the regular. In most cases, we do not know them personally; therefore, we will never fully understand the magnitude of the pressure they feel as an individual. When a celebrity makes a mistake, cancel culture is quick to make an appearance, and without a doubt, people are there to share their vast opinions. We take it upon ourselves to say things and do things we would never want anyone to say or do to us, but again, they’re celebrities, so they don’t count. The prestige and glamor associated with them are unreachable. We have to stop shaping our lives around someone who we have never had a meaningful interaction with.

Glorification to the point of dehumanization is damaging to everyone involved. For celebrities, there is an ever-growing pressure to be perceived as perfect in every way. Through social media, fans today have greater access to information than ever before. Such platforms enable the general public to exchange more information about their favorite celebrities than in the past, leading to hyper-investigation into their personal lives. Not only are today’s celebrities expected to look

“perfect,” but they also have to uphold “perfect” social media accounts, have “perfect” personal lives, and even have “perfect” morals. The question of morality gets messy when considering stan Twitter’s cancel culture, a system of accountability that is notorious for ending a celebrity’s career over something they’ve said or done. While it is necessary to hold celebrities accountable in serious cases of wrongdoing, today’s social media users take it to an extreme. Platforms like Twitter and TikTok are often used as a forum for debating a public figure’s morality, and people are expected to take sides when celebrities have a public feud. Nothing is kept private in the digital age, and rarely can people just agree to disagree. Many people expect celebrities to serve as the moral standard for society, but this is a strange pressure to place upon another human being. A non-famous person has the freedom to make mistakes, behave in self-interested ways, and disagree with others. When a public figure does the same, they become topics of social media buzz, and the controversy even serves as grounds to “cancel” someone. At the other extreme, celebrities are over-praised for everyday things, like eating, crossing the street, taking a selfie, and literally existing. The extent to which today’s stans glorify public figures’ every move is another form of dehumanization because it reinforces the expectation for them to be “perfect,” even when they’re “off duty.”

The Kardashian-Jenner sisters are constantly in the news for things as common as plastic surgery, and social media creates a new micro-trend every time Bella Hadid steps out of her house. This hyper-fixation of celebrities has overstepped the natural boundaries of human social expectations.

By placing other people on such a high pedestal, society disregards their humanity, instead viewing them as objects for mass observation. If the public cannot accept its idols as human beings with flaws, who are capable of making mistakes, how can we individually accept ourselves as such? Everybody is just a human being. It is unrealistic and unhealthy to expect or believe anything different.

CAREFUL

Writers: Lucia Villanustre & Cristina Angee

Editors: Addy Crosby, Noelle Knowlton, & Lexi Fernandez

Shoot Staffers: Katie Jones, Vallerie Kolczynski, Sydney Tindall, Marriana Gutierrez

Beauty: Addison Nance, Lauren Butts

Models: Alana Touch, Kayla Crooks, Brianna Heaney

Photographer: Kevin Farley

Videographer: Molly Dekraai

Layout: Taylor Kirby

December 3rd, 3:17 A.M.

“Do you want a ride home?”

“No that’s okay, I’ll just walk,” I reply as I slip my old t-shirt over my head.

“It’s pretty late, you can just stay the night if you want.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah it’s fine, I want you to.”

“Actually I better get home or my roommates will get worried. See ya.”

December 3rd, 11:53 A.M.

I walked home from their place again last night. It was cold outside this time. As the branches shed their leaves and the chill in the air grew stiff, I felt myself becoming stiff as well. My heart is shielded by armor, and I owe it to these last several months, but it is the only way to protect myself. I’m tired of the fake scenarios in my head and wishful thinking. Do they even know that the tattered Outkast shirt I pull over my head is my favorite band? They will never be able to love me. I’m the girl who comes over every time the 1 A.M. text dings my phone like clockwork. It’s starting to feel like the 1 A.M. girls’ chance at love is slim to none. It won’t happen to me this time, I’ve gained enough respect for myself to never get attached again. I haven’t felt a single feeling toward them since I came to this realization. My breath is heavy, and butterflies enter my stomach, but my brain will always snap me back to reality. “You cannot love them”. It feels as though someone else is in control of

me. I don’t love them. I know I don’t, but I did want to stay over. How could they ask me that? And when I ask for confirmation, they just reply with a simple, yet disappointing, “Yeah that’s fine”. Well, if it’s nothing more than fine I’m leaving! Whatever, I actually didn’t want to stay anyway. I don’t care about them. But maybe I do. I don’t know what to do. It’s been forever, I’m tired of putting on a show.

December 3rd, 4:32 P.M.

I slept in today, for reasons I can’t explain. I left my phone ringer on in hopes that they would call, and it would wake me up with a smile. Instead, I’m left to open my eyes on my own, the late afternoon sunlight reminding me that they’re not here. They left so abruptly last night it feels wrong for me to text them now. Do they even want to keep doing this? If they aren’t interested, I’ll lay off. But I can’t stop myself from feeling like there’s something there. Everything is fine until the night starts to close out. They put up this glass wall between us, and I don’t know where I stand. How do I tell them I want this to be more than just a hookup? How do I tell my friends I want things to be serious between them and I? The grandest gesture I’ve ever been able to give them is asking them to spend the night. Maybe they don’t think I can give any more than that. I want to tell them that I’m not just stringing them along, that they mean more to me than I’m able to show. But I just don’t know how without them pushing me away again. It’s been forever, I’m tired of putting on a show.

Writers: Dana Liberto & Ella Selph Editors: Lexi Fernandez, Noelle Knowlton, & Addy Crosby

Shoot Staffers: Tia Kearney, Kassidy Saba, Jaime Schmidt, Ella Brignoni, Hope Joffray

Beauty: Emma Kornatowski Models: Sydney Mckee, Grace Avvenire

Photographer: Desiree Caceres Videographer: Viviano Rojas Layout: Stella Humberg

PAST PAST DROWING IN THE

I’ve lost myself in this great big sea.

Waves of hurt, waves of fear, wash over me like drugs – oh dear –that wash away this space and time, hold all my hope in pretty lies.

Hold all my hope in hazed green eyes and arms that hold me one more time?

Arms that cradle me to sleep within this scary great big sea, yet I am swimming all alone caving in between my bones.

I crave it like a deep disease, it overtakes and overwhelms me, it calls my name, beckoning: come lose yourself in the great big sea.

I feel when it tosses me, cradles, rocks, and alters the structure of my whole wide world, and once again I’m just a girl.

I’ve lost that girl in the great big sea. I gasp for air, try to breathe, while I look for myself in waves of hurt. Swim, dive, drown. I can’t find her.

Editors:

Shoot Staffers: Katie Jones, Vallerie Kolczynski, Sydney Tindall, Marriana Gutierrez

Beauty: Marriana Gutierrez

Models: Vicky Ortiz, Daniel Candelaria-Petrocchi

Photographer: Tess Passinault, Abby Marcil

Videographer: Renee Rivas

Layout: Clara Celedon

Writer: Cristina Angee

Noelle Knowlton & Lexi Fernandez

It washes over me.

e Chaos e Confusion e Pressure e Emptiness e Loss of Self e Grief e Pain e Coping e Chaos Consumes Me

When did I lose her? How can I get my old self back?

What happened to me? Who am I?

I miss who I once was

Please just comfort me. is isn’t at all how I imaged it to be.

I don’t want to be this version of myself

Dear self, I miss you...

...Please come back to me

Iwas in the first grade when I asked my teacher to sing the yellow song. When I was in second grade, I realized I could taste music as I listened to it. When I was in fifth grade I started to see a spectrogram, like bursting fireworks of light when I encountered any sort of sound. I developed an understanding that life offered me more unique sensations that leaves everyone else in awe of the abstract associations that I experience. Each of my senses are connected and sheathed into eternity together in this dimension, and a fragile vision, a gentle aroma, or a brilliant harmony, will never walk alone. Deemed by scientists, Synesthesia is a neurological condition that activates more than one sense at a time when it is triggered by a stimulus. You can see a relationship between words, colors, and numbers, or you can even physically feel things. It varies from person to person but is proven to be useful in remembering certain things like events, or words. It’s not a disruptive condition, but it is what makes me stand out from the others. My senses escalate all at once and intertwine. No matter the actual color of anything, my abstract associations will show me the color I feel from it. When the sun scorches loudly, you see the sun as a warm, yellow ball, but it tastes red when I breathe the brightness of the day into my lungs. Sentences are black and white, but I envision rainbows every time I reach a new word in a sentence. Forest green is the gentle vision of smooth skin, blowing bubbles, and books in a library. Forest green is the mere sound

of laughter spilling on me. Peach is the color of your foundation, but I see it as the color of people’s stares, budding children, and the simple harmonies of faint whispers, and tentative swallows. The fireworks in my eyes burst into different shades of pastel yellows and pinks for the soft smiles, soft lips, my first kiss, and my favorite song She Will Be Loved by Maroon 5. A dark red is the color of brown eyes, and warm breaths while walking home after a night that should have ended hours ago. Rock and Hip Hop music trigger a sensation of a muddy brown, along with fragile observations of bruises, rough inhales, and balmy tears hitting the bathroom floor.

My disorder sets me apart from the rest because people’s senses stand alone in this realm, while mine dance together to create a glorious painting of life from the noises and observations.

Writer: Racquel Gluckstern Editor: Lexi Fernandez Shoot Staffers: Anastasia McGill, Desa Dragovich, Jackie Esguerra, Alexa Martin

Beauty: Brynn Lewin, Lindsey Mattei Models: Olivia Forman, Ashley Forman

Photographer: Olivia Rodriguez, Abby Marcil Layout: Stella Humberg

B E PRINT

Throughout my life, I have spent every waking moment troubling myself with what others could possibly believe me to be; whether what I had to say would matter, how my actions would affect people, and how my existence would be interpreted. Girlhood teaches you kindness, beauty, and how to be “good” to others. However, through womanhood, you learn to truly live for yourself in the face of scrutiny and to speak out even when what you wish to say might not be agreeable. As a result, the true female design often becomes misconstrued by the representations of the ideal woman in the media.

Throughout our childhoods, young girls often clung to examples in media, such as Hannah Montana or Fancy Nancy, who existed amongst a sea of hyperfeminine and bubbly characters that we had to choose from. These two-dimensional depictions of what it means to be a young woman reward those who fit within the mold and cast everyone else aside, making them feel unwanted in this world. We then grow up and conform in hopes of feeling important, to realize that we sacrificed the essence of what made us unique. Being told to wear skirts because boys think they are pretty or being judged for “liking boy things,” establishes these subconscious guidelines that we abide by into adolescence and adulthood because we felt that was what we had to do. We then scroll through social media or watch videos of women we admire, in hopes of emulating them for the same reasons – if I work out for two hours a day, I’ll look just as pretty as her and if I dye my hair this color and read this book, I’ll be just as cool as her. When the fascination with becoming the “ideal” becomes obsessive, where you curate your social media posts, meals, or interests to embody that “cool girl,” you attempt to fill an inner void with the approval of others instead of self-esteem. The cataclysmic pressure placed on you had no purpose, as the approval of others will never fill that void. And once

you realize that, where do you go from there?

Society caters to the male gaze in nearly all forms of media, ranging from screenwriting to fashion. The male gaze dictates many aspects of women’s lives and portrayal yet does not consider women’s perspectives. The agenda surrounding the male gaze is constantly forced onto the public through the media, deeply affecting what today’s society dictates as beautiful. It generally sexualizes women and only focuses on female physicality rather than their humanity and what makes each individual uniquely themselves. To men, their attention may cater to male desires but its influence goes beyond how women are portrayed in the media. This viewpoint also creates and affects the standards for their attractiveness as well and conditions all men to think the same about what is attractive and what is not. One example of this is the pressure the male gaze puts on men to be extremely physically fit giving men the belief that looking this way is the only way to be deemed as attractive.

On the contrary, the female gaze is catered to what women would enjoy and find beautiful. The prominence of the male gaze is made clear in creative works, for the hype-rsexualization of women serves as a stark contrast to the female gaze. Women tend to favor feminine elements and this perspective has a greater understanding and appreciation for women and all that encompasses what it means to be a woman. The female gaze also perceives certain men to be attractive although they do not fit the standards set by the male gaze. Another way I see the female gaze present is through fashion, there are pieces that women find fashionable and it has nothing to do with the male gaze. In reality, the male gaze encourages an unhealthy mindset and beauty standards that do not benefit women and harms men as well.

Writers: Meagan Planas & Isabel Wilder

Editors: Addy Crosby & Lexi Fernandez

Shoot Staffers: Sophia Pinilla, Brianna Piderit, Anisa Velazquez

Beauty: Brynn Lewin, Emma Kornatowski, Addison Nance

Models: Tai Beasley, Shannon Browne, Addison Nance

Photographer: Layla Mathews

Videography: Britnee Blake Layout: Taylor Kirby

hidden halos

That golden-hued halo encircles the blue in their iris tides, something their squinted eyes always seem to hide. Holding your gaze is hard and burns like an atrophied muscle from lack of use. Yet you dive anyways into the depth of their pupil where the blackened mirror reflects an unfamiliar smile you soon recognize as your own. The tension to touch becomes labored against that irresistible force and you feel your face drawing closer, dropping your eyelids for just a second. Opening your eyes in a titanic moment as each of your bodily cells repel from the other, an instant of reality whiplash. Sweaty and exhausted, it’s time to begin the day. Staring at your slightly peeling ceiling for what feels like way too long before switching your resentment over to a phone with no notifications except eighteen different snoozed alarm clocks.

The fluorescent screen reads 8:08, and as fate would have it, you’re late. You only get 50 minutes of class time and you’ve already wasted 10 of them literally watching paint dry like an idiot. HEY! I see your eyes wandering to that toothpaste, don’t even think about brushing your teeth because you and those gummy tic-tacs for teeth are already yellow anyways so who cares? Not me, 8:15!

Time has never been your strong suit, not that anything ever has anyway. Alright, maybe if you just, wait who is that? Great, it’s them. From before. No, stop staring at them, they’re not smiling at you, they’re laughing at your Taco Bell pajama pants from 6th grade. Seriously? Are you actually saying hi right now? You didn’t even brush your teeth… freak.

You walk into class, expecting the worst from the sea of eyes in the classroom. You see one thing on the agenda for the class. Presentations are today. Idiot. You forgot. You do your best to avoid the professor’s gaze but of course, it settles on you. He calls you up to give your presentation on mental health. Ironic right?

You reluctantly muster up, “I’m gonna be honest, I’m really sorry, but I think I must have read the dates wrong. I have a few of my paragraphs done but I’ve been all over the place lately and haven’t had a chance to finish”.

Dumb. You can feel the people around you lowering their

gaze as if to try to not burn with their gaze of judgment. You could still feel it though.

You prepare for the worst judgment of them all, the cherry on top of this horrific morning. But something different happens. The professor brushes past the conversation. “Okay, that’s fine Kate. We’ll move on to the next presentation.” You sit there, empty. It seems like everyone is still moving but you’re not. Why is the world not burning into flames? Why is the world not stopping in its tracks?

You don’t remember the rest of the class as everyone else takes turns presenting. They all seemed a bit half-assed anyway. Even when the professor dismisses the class, you still sit in the seat in a daze. Your professor notices this.

“Kate? I wanted to talk to you. It seems you were a bit out of it today. Is everything alright?

His question was warm and compassionate.

You feel a rush of relief wash over you.

“Yes, I’m sorry. I’ve been in my head a lot lately.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. I’m going to give you an extension on your presentation, given that we didn’t get to everyone today. You’ll present the next class.”

“However, you will have a few points deducted.”

The relief still sets in though, despite the measly points that fall off your grade. You didn’t care. Maybe the world wasn’t necessarily out for you.

Writers: Isabella Botero & Hope Fell / Editors: Noelle Knowlton & Lexi Fernandez

SHE IS.

Her first real memory is of her fifth birthday party. She is the first to have a birthday that year, and she takes smug pride in knowing that everyone will always want to be around to celebrate her. Her arm is still in a cast from when she jumped off the swings trying to impress Johnny Smith. He’d already done it three times, and she doesn’t mind the cast. Her arm remains full of signatures the whole year. On her birthday, she feels like a celebrity. Her mother bakes her a chocolate cake in the shape of a Croc, even going as far as to put candies on top that look like her favorite Tinker Bell Jibbitz. As she sits at the table, her classmates, friends, and family all joyously sing happy birthday to her as she waits to blow out the candles. With her parents pointing a digital camera at her face, she can’t help but think about how much she enjoys this feeling of adoration.

In high school, she loses trust in the institution of adoration.

She’s tired of the constant struggle to maintain the image that she spent her formative years cultivating. At home, she’s her parents’ little angel; the oldest child setting the example for her impressionable younger siblings. At school, she’s the “it” girl, whom people want to be or want to be seen with. At soccer practice, she’s the tenacious goalie who helps lead the team to victory. In between, she’s a sibling, a friend, a lover, a creator, and more. She has no choice but to be. To be a woman and everything in between is her fate.

When she turns 21, she finds herself ungracefully swinging open a scratched-up bathroom door with full force. Doodles and mementos of past lovers litter the walls. “A + M forever,” she reads. She’s unaware of the other women who wait in the long line and instead stares into the foggy mirrors. Dulled highlighter stains her cheekbones, and she’s sweating a little from the crowd upstairs. She reaches out at her reflection; it’s the only thing that feels real in the fluorescent, sterile lighting. She’s tired and hungry from trotting on the stubborn platforms she wears all night to make her legs longer and presence more enticing.

“Dude, you were so good up there. Did you see his face when you said that?”

She was expelled from her drunken trance by her friend

and started to remember. A guy asked her to dance, get a drink, leave the bar, and do God knows what. She answered with some cynical comment and continued on her way. She feels so confident when her friends are watching, as though she’s transported into another body that looks and feels just like hers. She is even more assertive when he and his friends circle her like a pack of desperate wolves. But as the condensation in the mirror grows heavier in the half-crowded bathroom, this self-assurance seems to dissipate. She feels like the smallest person in the room. Her friend’s looming presence forces the walls to close in on her and the alcohol slowly wears off. The strangers air their dirty laundry like irretrievable hearsay to the whole room. Their trivial conversations make her angry. Is this what she sounds like? Do people scrutinize her the same way she scrutinizes the world around her? She looks down at her arm trying to visualize the signatures that used to cover her 5-year-old cast. Her arm still protrudes a little from the fall.

She can no longer see her reflection. It’s fragmented, distorted, and confused in the midst of her indecision. She can no longer find which version of herself she’s looking at anymore.

“I think I need to go home,” she tells her friend.

She hastily finds her way to the entrance, stumbling through the heavy doors that seemed so much lighter before.

Writers: Sophia Yunaev, Lydia Coddington / Editors: Jayna O, Racquel Gluckstern, & Lexi Fernandez

The state of being and becoming aware through the senses. Perception acts as a filter, allowing us to exist within and interpret the world without becoming overwhelmed by the abundance of stimuli. The light falling on our retinas, transforming into a visual image. The subtle changes in pressure against our skin, stimulating every nerve like tingling lightning bolts. The smells that can bring us back to our favorite places, with fragrant hints of sweetness, peppermint, or wood. The salty, sweet, sour, and bitter tastes that melt on our tongues. The sounds of our favorite songs, vibrating in our eardrums. All of these sensory experiences act as our brain’s window to the external world whether it be sight, touch, smell, taste, sound; always perceiving without a single thought. Let’s sink deeper into our senses, allowing the world to envelop around us. We are one with our senses, and everything around us.

WRITER: JAYNA O EDITOR: LEXI FERNANDEZ