The Wake - Issue 10 - Spring 2020

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fortnightly student magazine

volume 19 — issue 10

A Letter From The Cities And To Its Beloved Reders

p. 7

Q:A: Miloe

p. 16

No, Coronavirus Is Not What We Need To Cure The Earth

p. 8

Home Country

p. 20

#I AM NOT A VIRUS

p. 11

Six Reviews

p. 22


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Art by Jane Borstad

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VOLUME 19, ISSUE 10 EDITORIAL: Editor-in-Chief

Tala Alfoqaha

Managing Editor

Emma Chekroun

Cities Editor

Sylvia Rani

Voices Editor

Esther Chan

Music Editor

Tosin Faseemo

Online editor

Sammi Divito

Copy editors

Autumn Sanders Hannah Haakenson

BMM EBZ

Multimedia Editor

Sebastian Alfonzo

Multimedia Producer

Courtenay Parker

Editorial Interns: Ian Knoll, Isabel Teitelbaum, Megan Bormann, Marley Rich-

mond, Kylie Heider, Prahlad Sankrti, Emma Smisek, Martha Huson, Kinga Mozes, Jemma Keleher

PRODUCTION: Executive Director

Macie Rasmussen

Creative Director

Kiley Nelson

Finance Manager

Nikhil Barr-Saxena

PR/Ad Manager

Claire Redell

Social Media Manager

Madison Amland

Art Director

Morgan Wittmers-Graves

Designers

Kelsey Hanscom Samantha Fischer Ellie Kestner

Web Manager

Juan Rujana

Distribution Manager

Cassie Varrige

Production Interns: Grace Augustin, Skylar Neuber, Tymia Phat Art Interns: Joe Price, Gavin Schuster, Selena Philaphandeth, Laura Kuchar

THIS ISSUE: Š2020 The Wake Student Magazine. All Rights Reserved. Established in 2002, The Wake is a fortnightly independent magazine and registered student organization produced by and for students at the University of Minnesota. The Wake was founded by Chrin Ruen & James DeLong.

Writers

Katelyn Anderson, Juan Andres Rujana, Beryl Belmonte, Megan Bormann, Grace Davis, Hannah Dove, Kylie Heider, Jemma Keleher, Mitchell Levesque, Naisargi Mehta, Kinga Mozes, David Ma, Nina Raemont, Josie Takeshima Allen, Isaiah W. Ogren

Disclaimer: The purpose of The Wake is to provide a forum in which students can voice their opinions. Opinions expressed in the magazine are not representative of the publication or university as a whole. To join the conversation email eic@wakemag.org

Art

The Wake Student Magazine 126 Coffman Memorial Union 300 Washington Avenue SE Minneapolis, MN 55455

Kid Krow, and YHLQMDLG art from original sources Cover and feature art by Joe Price

THE WAKE

1 Morgan Wittmers-Graves 2 Gavin Schuster 3 Kinga Mozes

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wink! one page magazine

Here at The Wake, we care about your dental hygine. To help you out, we created a daily flossing calendar for your personal use.

SUNDAY

MONDAY

TUESDAY

WEDNESDAY

THURSDAY

FRIDAY

SATURDAY

AM:

AM:

AM:

AM:

AM:

AM:

AM:

PM:

PM:

PM:

PM:

PM:

PM:

PM:

INSTRUCTIONS: Simply tally the amount of times you floss in the morning and at night.

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INSIDE 6

Letter from the Editor & Executive Director

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A Letter From The Cities And To Its Beloved Readers

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No, Coronavirus Is Not What We Need To Cure The Earth

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Helping Out The Little Guys

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#I AM NOT A VIRUS

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Q&A: Miloe

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It’s Not You, It’s My Anxiety

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Old Spaces, New Faces

20

Home Country

21

Security or Passion

22

Six Reviews

WHERE IS THE WAKE?

MINNESOTA

MISSOURI

ARIZONA

MICHIGAN

WISCONSIN

SOUTH DAKOTA

ILLINOIS

THE WAKE

TEXAS

INDIA

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Letter from the Editor & Excecutive Director Macie: Soccer Mommy always knows what to say. On my walks over the past few weeks, I’ve listened to her song, “Circle the Drain,” countless times. She sings about going around and around, which is how my mind feels right now. In the midst of a pandemic, it feels selfish to feel bad for myself, but I don’t think it’s wrong to be honest. I have to admit that I’m scared. I’m stressed. I’m confused. I bounce back and forth between anxiety to apathy, trying not to get caught up in either. Tala: I find myself napping, a lot. And trying to construct a 1000-piece puzzle as if my life depends on it. I haven’t been able to sit in silence, but I haven’t been able to enjoy music either. Instead, I’ve been listening to an audiobook that claims to offer a Brief History of Humankind. Spoiler alert: despite illustrious mythologies of our ancient ancestors, our origins can be traced to a middling species that occupied the background of a much broader world. Today, while our world seems to have screeched to a standstill, so much life continues beyond ourselves. I find comfort in that. Macie: I think we have the right to allow ourselves to circle to drain for a bit. We also shouldn’t feel guilty for indulging in small pleasures while chaos and collective anxiety circles around us. Tala: My screen time has skyrocketed. Books I’ve promised myself I’d read lay untouched. Schoolwork is stressful yet I barely spend any time on it. Some days I’m circling the drain, and some days I feel like I’ve fallen in. Macie: I want to laugh, and, more than that, I want to see my friends laugh—through the lens of Zoom, of course. This instinctive desire doesn’t change anything, but momentarily it can make me feel a bit more human—less alone. Tala: And, according to the audiobook I’m listening to, the desire to be less alone is precisely what makes us human. We only thrived through finding community. The days where I’m reminded of mine are the days that I can wish dishes instead of circle the drain. Macie: This issue is filled with stories that I hope make you feel less alone. I have a feeling you’ll be able to relate to at least one emotion expressed in the following pages, whatever emotion that may be. Tala: And hopefully, after reading this issue, you realize that you have a community in The Wake.

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With love, Macie & Tala

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CITIES

A Letter From The Cities And To Its Beloved Readers Where there is life and love, there is something to be written about BY NINA RAEMONT Dear Cities Reader, It comes as no surprise that the world we currently reside in is far different than that of yesterday, and even more staggering than tomorrow. It is a world that has been, within the last couple of months, riddled with ambiguity and uncertainty, as well as anxiety and dread. In these moments when we are stunned by the insanity of our reality, we look to the future as a beacon of hope. We look to the outside world and the opportunities it offers. We look to our favorite bands visiting our favorite venues, or the café with the latte that puts a spring in our step on those lousy days, or the art exhibits at our local museums that take us out of our crowded minds and place us within an epicenter of creation and comfort. We look to the cities. The Cities section is not only a hub of the Twin Cities happenings, but it also acts as your fortnightly tap on the shoulder to be a tourist in your own city and explore the funk and quirk that the Twin Cities provides. It poses as a reminder that there is more to a college than just its campus. Although the University emergency protocols temporarily pulled you away from your home on campus, memorable events will still continue. We urge you to consider the life in your own community. In each household, there is a new TED-talk being watched, a new recipe being consumed, a new scarf being knitted, a new sentence being written. Although these activities don’t take the form of grand events, they are not to be underestimated. The sheer volume of attendees of an experience does not always signify validity. There remains value in small gatherings, like a family dinner where stories of the past are shared, or an 11 p.m. dance session that involves yourself, your roommates, and that almost-empty bag of Franzia. Where there is life

THE WAKE

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and love, there is something to be written about. For many of you, however, this time spent “sheltering in place” brings upon another layer of stress and worry as you may be in the midst of caring for a loved one or lacking a necessary paycheck. We realize that a portion of our readers will face extreme circumstances because of the impact of COVID-19. Our hearts are with yours while you endure this difficult period of sickness or economic instability. The world is, at times, terribly unkind, but hope cannot be lost. As the devoted reader is presumably aware, our section shines light on activities and gatherings around the Twin Cities. You can only imagine how impractical it would be, in light of recent gathering restrictions, to report upon events that no longer exist. So, we must change. As we transition to a quarantine-friendly, online platform, The Cities section will change with the current times and take a different shape. The articles previously written revolving around outings and gatherings will now become articles touching upon UMN student’s communities outside of the greater Minneapolis-St Paul area, discussions about how the situation affects our local communities within the Twin Cities, stories of virtual worlds, and experiences that we share while sheltering in place. We graciously accept your input and any ideas to enhance this section as it undergoes a transformation of content. Despite the (social) distance, our community still proudly stands, welcoming stories of the cities, so keep reading. Stay happy and healthy, Nina Raemont

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CITIES

No, Coronavirus Is Not What We Need To Cure The Earth An ecological perspective on the quarantine, and why it’s wrong to say that humanity is the virus plaguing our planet 1

BY HANNAH DOVE During quarantine in which everyone is advised to head indoors, more and more people are seeing nature “reclaim” spaces where they once roamed—the rivers throughout Venice have never been clearer, and an absence of people has allowed the local fauna to walk the streets without repercussion. Perhaps it’s because people are now more aware of nature than ever that they are now decrying humanity for being the equivalent of Coronavirus to the planet’s health. People on social media platforms such as Twitter and Instagram are photographing clear waters and less polluted skies, supposed “evidence” that quarantine has helped restore the earth, with captions often espousing that “maybe WE are the virus.” However, animals re-entering into oncepopulated areas is about entropy, not because the virus is an example of the earth finally healing itself. Let’s get something straight—Coronavirus is in no way good for the earth. According to the UN’s environment chief, Inger Andersen, “Nature is sending us a message with the coronavirus pandemic and the ongoing climate crisis,” and it’s not one of revenge or healing—it’s one of warning. David Quammen, author of Spillover: Animal Infections and the Next Pandemic, recently wrote in the New York Times about how “we invade tropical forests and other wild landscapes, which harbor so many species of animals and plants— and within those creatures, so many unknown viruses.” Viruses like COVID-19 are only just the beginning of an era of pandemics that are to come from the ecological destruction caused by unchecked capitalism. But there is a difference between the devastation wrought by capitalism

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and colonialism and the actions of humanity as a whole. “We” do not need a pandemic to chide us into helping the earth—several different cultures have existed on the planet for generations without the amount of deforestation, pollution, and habitual contamination seen in the past century or so. It’s dangerous to lump together megacorporations churning out fossil fuels by the megaton with the individual who relies on single-use medical equipment or cannot bike to work due to a physical disability. One can end up in a pattern of thinking that overpopulation is the main issue—and if overpopulation is the issue, that leads to people deciding who deserves to live and who deserves to die in order to fix said issue. This is the hidden rhetoric of eco-fascism: in parading as care for the earth, the care for those humans most affected by the negative ecological effects of consumption is absent. To be an eco-fascist is to be a nihilist seeking a singular scapegoat for the ecological atrophy witnessed by society, but that sort of attitude can lead to fingers pointed at those most vulnerable. A pandemic is never good—even if pollution stops in the short run, the number of fossil fuels used and carbon dioxide ejected back into the atmosphere will most likely triple in order to make up for the “lost profit” of a largely quarantined workforce. The effects on air pollution decreasing due to social distancing will only be temporary, and the canals in Venice may be clearer—but not cleaner. The Environmental Protection Agency has in fact waived enforcement on many of its health and environmental protections in order to “assist” industries such as oil and gas in complying with

the Coronavirus era. “It’s not a sustainable way to reduce air pollution, and the long-term economic and well-being impacts of this crisis are going to be devastating for many people,” says McGill University associate professor and epidemiologist Jill Baumgartner. It’s therein where we need to demand change— the economic structure and faceless businesses that put profit in front of people. A federal court as of March 25 granting a request by the Standing Rock Sioux Tribe to strike down federal permits for the Dakota Access Pipeline is a win for the environment. The active shift of people’s lifestyles in recognizing their effects on the environment at home and at work and the activism that takes place in fighting for the rights of the environment and the planet is a win for the environment. It is not inherently eco-fascist to take notice of how you and others impact the planet, and, in fact, it is crucial in understanding how structures ingrained in our society disintegrate the ecological safety nets surrounding the earth. Just don’t forget your empathy for others while you strive for a better future.

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Helping Out The Little Guys The government has promised a major bailout for small businesses by reason of the Coronavirus, yet the real intervention might have to come through other means

CITIES

An Economy Without Workers How COVID-19 shows us what “The Economy” is (and what our leaders think it is)

BY MITCHELL LEVESQUE Imagine, for a moment, your favorite local business: Upon entering, you’re most likely greeted by the bells at the door. Sitting down at a table, you can’t help but be at least charmed, if not taken aback by their impressive collection of succulents; if you’re lucky, there may even be a cat sitting in the window. Now imagine if that business were to close down. If you struggle to do this, you need not worry as the situation needs little imagining. With the emergence of the Coronavirus, small businesses have struggled, and some have even closed. And now with things accelerating, the situation begs the question: what can be done for these local institutions? As of Wednesday, March 26, Congress has rolled out one of the largest stimulus packages in the country’s history. According to the bill, small businesses can expect loan forgiveness and other provisions that are desperately needed. Businesses experiencing any supply chain disruptions, staffing challenges, decrease in sales or customers, and/or shuttered business are ones to qualify for aid. However, not all news is good news. According to reports in the New York Times, the bill will most likely not take effect for two more weeks, which for many small businesses is two weeks too late. In the meantime, what can we do as consumers do to help during these troubling times? One way to contribute is to donate to the nonprofit Restaurant Workers’ Community Foundation. Your donation will go to workers in 1 the restaurant industry, other non-profit organizations serving restaurant workers in crisis, and zero-interest loans for restaurants. However, the easiest and perhaps most mutually beneficial way to help is to order take-out. This can be especially helpful as many small businesses in the Dinkytown and Twin Cities area are not on sites like DoorDash. Solutions will have to come from many places, but perhaps the best place to start is the takeout menu at your favorite local restaurant.

THE WAKE

BY ISAIAH W. OGREN We look back on the recession caused by COVID19—a recession that we are surely already experiencing—one can only hope that we do so from a new vantage point, such that the ways we viewed the labor and livelihoods of our friends, neighbors, and fellow citizens before this crisis seem strange. At present, the emphasis is on tiding over corporations without accountability, goosing the stock market, and at some point in the future “opening” the economy back up as if it was as simple as popping open a can of Summit. Nevertheless, the present moment provides some insight into how the powerful in American society REALLY view the economy. Take the suggestion, made in a varity of ways by the President, seemingly daily, that we should swiftly move towards lifting shelter in place orders. This would, by all epidemiological accounts, be a macabre disaster. Some estimates place the death toll at 1.7 million if social distancing is abandoned. Nevertheless, we know that rising unemployment and economic recession also have adverse health effects. So, is there a real balancing question to be asked here? The proposition above fails to consider the catastrophic consequences that 1.7 million people dropping out of the workplace due to death would have. The position in favor of easing social distancing in the name of “putting Americans back to work” is so divorced from the simple notion that workers, and the value they produce with their labor, remain the key to economic growth. If the labor force is decimated by COVID-19, the economy will not grow. Of course, this reality does not apply to many in power. Their money is made through investments and capital gains. They are insulated, and they can tolerate and even profit immensely from an economy that limps along. This has never been about workers or about preserving people’s jobs. It has always been about witless bullies and hapless punks trying to pull the wool over our eyes in order to squeeze more out of their portfolio. Even at the expense of the lives of working people across the nation. Let us hope we have the moral clarity to see through their attempts.

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Make a Wish by Vrishali Sudesh Salian

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FEATURE

#I AM NOT A VIRUS HOW COVID-19 HAS SHAPED MY CHINESE AMERICAN IDENTITY

BY AMY ZHOU

THE WAKE

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FEATURE

I often wonder if I’ll ever be American enough for the country I was born and raised in, if I’ll ever be Minnesotan enough for the state that I grew up in. From Chinese exclusion to Japanese internment, has there ever been a time in history that my community wasn’t a hair’s width away from being aliens? The history of Asian America has been manipulated and molded into something palatable that whiteness is comfortable with. We have been doled out slivers of humanity on the condition of our complicity. But anything—a war, a pandemic, a skit— can expose how dispensable we have always been to them. I miss the bustling streets of Shanghai with their never-ending streams of pedestrians going to and from work. The smell of cigarettes and a slight hint of sewage, but also of the cong you bing frying on a nearby street cart. I miss the yell of Chinese and the concert of people moving, going, hustling, doing. The streets of Shanghai are where I’m from; my parents immigrated in 1990. I was born nine years later in Corpus Christi, Texas, a world away from the origins of my blood. I grew up grossed out by the Chinese food my mother made and embarrassed by my parent’s accents when we went out in public. So much of my life has been spent trying to assimilate myself into my whiter surroundings, rejecting all the yellow parts of me. The first time I was called a chink, I was twelve years old and didn’t know what it meant. I was in my seventh grade history class, and a boy stood up and pointed to me, repeating the word in a mocking drawl. The teacher told the class to quiet down, and I was left to piece together what had just happened. It wasn’t until I told my mom that I realized the gravity of the situation. Her knuckles went white clutching the driving wheel as she asked me to repeat my story. When she asked me if I wanted her to talk to the teacher, I said “no.” Even at twelve years old, I knew that my survival in America was dependent on my ability to adhere to the white status quo. When I finally decided to study abroad in Shanghai during the spring of 2020, it was a decision to open the floodgates of an identity that I had spent twenty years repressing. My dad had moved back to Shanghai to start a business when I was in middle school, and all of my extended family lives there. Spending five months in Shanghai was more than a study abroad—it was my way of reclaiming where I came from. My program was canceled a week before it was scheduled to start. I found out about the cancellation while I was traveling in Asia, having been in Shanghai days earlier. I had seen the effects of COVID-19 on the city that had always been a second home to me. The subway was empty, the restaurants were closed, and a city of 24 million was a ghost town. When I left Asia a week later in a flurry of panic and stress, above all, my heart hurt for the people of China. They are my people. In the weeks following my return to Minnesota, every day was marked with constant anxiety for my family back in Shanghai. I worried for my father, for my 90-year-old grandmother, for my seven-year-old cousin. I never had the chance to say goodbye to them, and I have no idea when I will see them again. My heart also worried for the diasporic Chinese community internationally. Reports of racist attacks against Chinese and the Asian community broadly have risen quickly in the past few months. New hate crimes against the AAPI community have averaged one hundred a day, including the stabbing of a Chinese American family in Texas last month. The president of the United States has referred to COVID-19 as the “Chinese virus.” Even in our own on-campus communities, we have seen discrimination take root, revealing the precarious social position Asian and Asian-American students hold at the University of Minnesota.

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FEATURE

Two weeks after my return, I learned about a racist and xenophobic skit that occurred in a student group that I used to be a part of: Admissions Ambassadors, one of the largest student groups on campus. At a membership retreat for the Admissions Ambassadors, a skit was performed, depicting a student who had studied abroad in China, contracted COVID-19, and infected the University of Minnesota community upon returning, turning students into zombies.. Out of the seventy some members present that day, only one student said anything about the skit. This student was Asian American. The pain I felt to think that people I knew had condoned this behavior hurt me to my core. When I wrote an email asking for repercussions for the person who had performed the skit, I did so while sobbing in my bed. I got a call later that day from the organization’s advisor, explaining that the person would not be removed. I choked up on the phone and the advisor asked me, “Are you ok? We read the email, and we’re just concerned about you, Amy.” To be told that there would be no justice for the blatant racism and xenophobia that was committed, and then to be asked as paltry of a question as “Are you ok?” was demeaning, dismissive, and patronizing. The next day, I received a letter from the Office of Student Affairs, notifying me that the advisor had filed with them due to their worry for my family in China. Just like that, I was made out to be the problem rather than a lack of accountability for their racism. The next week, I decided to speak publicly about what happened, and posted about the situation on my Instagram story. The story received 900 views. A few days later, the person was removed from the Admissions Ambassadors. It hurts to know that people I knew didn’t do anything when I talked to them privately; rather, it took a public outcry for anything to be done. My inclusion in the group was always conditional, based on the notion that I would not voice my grievances. When the coronavirus hit the Western world, it felt like a slap in the face to see people panic over mundane things when my people have been dying for months. When Minnesota was given the shelter in place order, I replayed that skit in my head. I’m wondering if those who watched it would find it funny now. Witnessing this unfold, it makes it clear what kind of bodies have been deemed deserving of mourning. It makes it clear who is afforded empathy and care. It makes it clear why I was never given the benefit of the doubt, why my own emotions and feelings were weaponized against me. After all, isn’t that what whiteness does? It will choke you and then wonder why you aren’t breathing. It will drown you and then blame you for the water in your lungs. I have been without air for so long. Our community deserves more than that. They deserve to finally have agency and a voice in a nation they helped build. My mother has always told me that I have a Chinese face but an American heart. I’ve spent my whole life trying to reconcile those two things, to make them fit together like puzzle pieces. This pandemic has made me throw the puzzle out the window. A Chinese face, an American heart—they are one and the same after all.

THE WAKE

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Him By Priscilla Trinh Shall I compare thee to the pantheons of history? Masterpieces of old are but shadows, he alone is the light. Renaissance man with no frills, no fresco, no manifesto to bandy or tout. To speak of him runs counter to the Dao, pray tell then, to observe without words, how? He is the Clio and Erato to my contemplative soul, pen to paper, sea to shore. A bodhisattva, a fair modest ego, where he goes, I go. Silk Road or Atlantic Tobago, Mesopotamia or Minnesota, no distance too far. At first mamihlapinatapai, but now wabi-sabi. Duyên phan has it that our time be eclipsed, artifact memories one day unveiled. Living in the future’s past, I bask in his former and current glory all day. Who is to say, come what may, try as I might, I find it hard to convey his significance, his influence, his eloquence. A moment or era is debatable, yet it is undeniable that a lifetime of joy can be captured in a second, in one wordless look at him.

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THE WAKE

Art by Megan Bormann

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Q&A

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Miloe BY KINGA MOZES Miloe started as lead singer Bobby Kabeya’s SoundCloud project in 2017, and has blossomed into a rising indie pop band. The Minneapolis-based band features Theo Galetka on the drums, Dom Winterbauer on bass, and Thomas Schroeder on lead guitar. Keep reading to find out about Bobby’s interests and inspirations.

: How would you classify your genre of music?

: Do you wish you could drop out of school forever and just do music?

Bobby: Indie pop, but I don’t really like to put our music into a specific genre or category.

B: No, because if Miloe does get successful I would love to go back to school and study what I really want to study.

: Where does the name Miloe come from? B: I don’t really know, but I think it might be because I was listening to “Mylo Xyloto” at the time, and that was the first Coldplay album I really listened to. Coldplay is a big inspiration.

: How hard is it to juggle school and music? Do you wish you could just do one? B: Yeah, I wish I could do just one. I feel like I have to half-ass one of them. Sometimes I’ll have to stop working on music to do school work, or the other way around. It’s definitely challenging, and if I go on tour I’ll have to take a semester off or something.

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: What do you really want to study? B: I think graphic design would be really cool. I also have an interest in photography. I’m currently studying communications and marketing because I think what I learn could help the band, but my actual interests don’t really earn you money.

: What is your favorite venue or show you’ve performed at and why? B: Probably the Varsity Theater show; it was in the summer. The energy at the show was just different. There were a lot of people there that I don’t normally see at shows, so that was really cool. We were just so loud there. We played with Qani and Atomic Cafe. It was a lot of fun.

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Q&A

: What does your writing process look like? Who writes which parts of the songs? B: I mostly write the songs and come to the guys with demos. Then they add their own stuff to it. We formed because I asked the most talented guys I know to be in a band and luckily, they said yes.

not afraid to sound like pop music. Our upcoming EP is more pop than our past stuff has been.

: Who are some of your biggest music inspirations?

B: I don’t know if I have a dream music video because every time I have to film a music video I can’t remember what my ideas were. I do really like the TOPS music video for the song “I Feel Alive” and the concept of minimalistic music videos that are shot in one take.

B: Definitely Keep for Cheap, Hippo Campus, and The Happy Children. Hippo Campus has been a huge inspiration to us. They helped us with the production of a lot of our past music since we didn’t know much about it.

: What’s your favorite song you’ve released and why?

: What’s some advice you have for someone just starting out in the music industry?

B: Definitely our most recent one, “Everything (That Should Go).” It’s the most vulnerable song I’ve ever written. The story behind it is actually really funny. My friend Qani and I decided to make a joke post on Instagram saying that he replaced me in Miloe, and that I was now Qani. We wrote songs as if we were each other, and I ended up writing this super emo, sad boy song that I actually really liked. I showed it to the rest of the band and we put the song together. It was a fun experience, and I’m happy we did it.

B: My best advice is to find your own sound. At the end of the day, you should like what you made. It doesn’t really matter if other people like it. Focus less on the audience and whether people will like it, and people will connect and relate if it’s personal and important to you.

B: I would say some of my biggest inspirations are Dua Saleh, Dizzy Fae, Hippo Campus, Keep for Cheap, and Noname. I listened to a lot of Noname last summer, and I was really inspired by how vulnerable she is in her music. That’s definitely something I want to try to do more of and I think that made the song “Everything (That Should Go)” resonate with people. Jose Gonzalez’ soundtrack from “The Secret Life of Walter Mitty” is also definitely one of my favorites. I’ve listened to that soundtrack so many times; it’s so beautiful.

: What makes Miloe unique in the Minneapolis music scene? B: I don’t know if there’s anything that really makes us unique. We’re just doing what everyone else is. But I guess if I had to say something, I think we’re

THE WAKE

: Describe your dream music video.

: Do you have any recommendations for other Minneapolis bands/musicians to check out?

: If you could use one word to describe your music what would it be? B: Youthful.

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VOICES

It’s Not You, It’s My Anxiety Juggling the melancholy of social distancing and the heightened anxiety of staying in contact with friends

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BY BERYL BELMONTE After refreshing my school email for the hundredth time, anticipating further updates on how the COVID-19 crisis will impact the University of Minnesota, a new notification pops up at exactly 1:07 p.m. My heart drops when I open the message that reads, “All students on all campuses will be taught virtually through at least Wednesday, April 1.” Like many of my peers, I begin to feel the early effects of loneliness at the thought of staying inside my house for another two weeks and not being able to see the University friends that I’ve grown so attached to. To distract myself from my spiraling thoughts, I make plans to maintain contact with all of my friends despite being 400 miles apart. Fast forward two weeks, and I’m awoken by twenty notifications that I have yet to respond to. What happened to keeping in touch with everyone for every second of every day? Why am I starting to leave people on “delivered” for hours at a time? Is it because I’m a terrible friend? Or could it have to do with the sensory overload that comes with trying to stay updated on multiple people’s lives on multiple social media platforms? Believe it or not, my social anxiety has heightened since transitioning from face-to-face conversations to on-screen communication. Without my daily run-ins or scheduled meet-ups with people on campus, all of my social interactions are consolidated into variable periods of time, providing no routine for me to keep up with. With all of us living separate

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lives off campus, there’s this increased urgency to catch up on everything new that has occurred in all personal dimensions, academics, family, etc. in order to avoid being left out of each other’s social spheres. As a result, I have to be ready to respond to any chime, ding, or beeping sound that comes my way at any moment of the day and uphold fifteen different conversations about completely different topics—even if my social battery is drained and my mind is paralyzed by the amount of stimuli that it’s simultaneously exposed to. With our phones being the only way to stay in touch with people we care about outside of our homes, there’s this added pressure to ensure that every single text and call is meaningful in some way. With limited nonverbal cues to enhance the expression or interpretation of what people are truly thinking, there are more opportunities to overanalyze. Consequently, there’s additional weight placed on the perceived consequence or stigma of leaving people on “read” or writing an insufficient response. If I don’t reply at lightning-speed, a growing sense of uneasiness creeps over me, filling my head with fears that my friends will think I’m purposefully closing myself off to them. The same feeling is reciprocated when my friends don’t reply as quickly as I do, pulling me into this rabbit hole of rereading my messages and wondering what I typed wrong.

So what now? Do we continue to go through this anxiety-inducing process for every conversation that we have? Do we drop off the face of the earth and completely pull the plug? If you need to go on a digital detox to clear your headspace, it’s perfectly understandable to inform your friends about it and to take some time to yourself. Once you decide to return to the grid, creating a routine for yourself can help restore the regular pace of social interaction that you’re used to. Instead of texting thirty people at once, you can start a group FaceTime call to evenly distribute the social pressures of a conversation. For one-on-one conversations, agreeing upon a time to catch up with certain friends can help make the pile of notifications less overwhelming. But if all of this doesn’t work, don’t beat yourself up. These are uneasy times, and the last thing you’re expected to do is resolve your anxiety within a few weeks. While social media and technology have been invaluable for maintaining communication with friends, people may not realize that these platforms can be sources of heightened anxiety for some. In the midst of uncertainty and fear, these feelings are valid, and your mental health should remain your top priority.

APR 13 - 27


VOICES

Old Spaces, New Faces

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Being at home is weird, and so is living like your old self did BY JEMMA KELEHER If you’re anything like me, you, too, have returned to living in your hometown in the wake of the current global crisis. We’ve gone from our beloved campus homes— alive with fun, people, and the screeching of the green line—to the quiet, controlled life we lived not so long ago. For me, this move has brought into focus how much has changed since I moved to campus and subsequently stopped being my sixteenyear-old self (finally). Things aren’t as serious as I once thought they were, and that realization has propelled me into a different headspace altogether. Being back within a space that was once my entire reality has felt simultaneously like a walk down memory lane and a car crash with a history bus. It hit me in different stages, as all meaningful movie moments do. Walking into my bedroom that I designed in high school—and afterward cried in far too often—felt like getting thrown into a time vacuum. Opening Tinder only to realize that I knew every person I swiped on felt like a cruel joke. Looking through my closet when I ran out of clothes was like shopping in a time capsule—and not in a cute way. Moving home for this temporary period and living in the patterns of your younger self is jarring. Even so, it’s an opportunity to reflect on how you have evolved since leaving the person you once were. You’ve changed, and now you can realize just how much that was necessary. And sure, things have changed since this was your permanent home—maybe your entire personality—but in this place, the old you still exists and inhabits your walls. Reconnecting with your past self and understanding that they are part of you despite your differences is an important step towards accepting who you are.

Memories of a COVID-free Life Absence makes the heart grow fonder BY DAVID MA COVID-19 is sweeping across the U.S., leaving unprecedented precautionary measures in its wake, including the closure of our very own University. With the nation being fundamentally transformed, only now do I realize how many things I’ve taken for granted. Although I’m still on campus, it feels like a shell of its former self. I miss the Recwell. I miss the simple act of walking to and from campus. I used to listen to music or podcasts on my walks between classes, giving myself ten minute pockets of time where I could just focus on the present. But nowadays the news is almost exclusively about COVID-19, and that gets tiring after a while. I miss the libraries (even if Biomed supposedly has rats). Believe it or not, I almost miss my 8 a.m. discussions. We were tired, but at least we were unified by sleepiness. I miss going to Burger King at 2 a.m. and getting two bacon cheeseburgers, a small fry, and a drink for just $3.99 plus tax. And no, I wasn’t paid to write this. I miss being able to walk outside without wondering if others see me as a danger. Above all, I miss the human connection in its purest form. It’s simply not the same to talk to others with their voices distorted by fluctuating wifi, when their faces are pixelated facsimiles. I miss running into acquaintances between classes or dapping up a friend as they pass me by. At the end of the day, the University of Minnesota is defined by its community, and I miss the days before we were forcibly fragmented. The simple act of human interaction is something that almost everyone takes for granted, and only now do I truly understand that it is important beyond measure.

THE WAKE

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VOICES

Home Country

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Dear international students, how are you? BY NAISARGI MEHTA A month ago, on a nice Friday of spring break, I was living in my University housing, and I was unaffected. Two months before that, I had just stepped onto the University of Minnesota campus for the first time and was cursing the weather, unaware that I’d be signing all the emails off with “stay safe and healthy!” by mid-March. You know when something becomes trendy, every single person seems to be talking about it? Everyone talks about it so much that it becomes annoying and then it ceases to be a trend. However, a pandemic that shakes the globe, affecting every single individual can hardly be reduced to the label of a “trend.”It has been roughly three months since people started talking about COVID-19, and it is scary that it has not been exhausted by the media yet. It’s not just some dumb trend someone came up with. It’s real, and it’s frightening, and all of us are affected. Personally, it was the turbulence of being on campus one day and being in my home country the next day. To provide a little backstory, I am an Indian. For the spring term of my junior year, I decided to study a semester abroad to probably the only place colder than my heart—Minnesota. The first day I stepped onto the campus, I knew I would love it there. When I entered the Coffman Memorial Student Union and saw the public piano, I fell in love. When I saw Goldy, I fell in love a little more. Interestingly, I even loved standing in long lines outside the social security office! Not to forget, during one of the hundred times that I was trying to catch the campus connector 121, the bus driver waited for me to get on. How could that not make my day a little better? How could that not make me love campus a little more?

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Then comes spring break, and the weather got so much better during the first few days that even a couch potato like me decided to go out exploring. One of the places that I will always remember is this place called Black Coffee and Waffle Bar, which—you guessed right—served extremely delicious black coffee and waffles. By the middle of the spring break, our dear president’s emails had started to appear in the inbox. I was a little worried about my classes and my job but never worried enough to actually consider leaving the campus. There were a lot of things I hadn’t done yet. I was waiting for the weather to get a little better. Everyone told me how lovely it gets in May, and I was excited that I would be able to see that before leaving for India in mid-May. And then it was March 17, a day I spent with almost zero sleep, a lot of phone calls with my family in India and a lot of decisions. Should I move? Even the University president had strongly recommended moving to a safer place. Should I move somewhere else in the U.S.? Isn’t coming back to India a little too big of a step? Finally what convinced me was Trump. There was no way we could foretell either Trump or even Modi’s (the Prime Minister of India) moves. It was highly likely that one fine day, without any prior warning, we get the news that international travel is banned. If that happened and I had to overstay my visa or miss the beginning of my senior year in my home university—those would be problems greater than my affection and respect for the University of Minnesota. Fun fact: A day after I came back to India, our prime minister banned all international travel. Within a few more days, my country was locked down.

Of all the good, bad, and tedious things that came along with that decision, emptying my room out was brutal. It was more than throwing out an unimaginable amount of food; packing up half a semester’s worth of memories in a couple of bags sent chills down my spine. And before I could say goodbye to my room, to the city, to my friends on campus, I was off. In a matter of 24 hours, my phone number changed from “+1” to “+91.” I remember feeling numb, functioning solely because of my spinal cord. I knew that if I thought about it, I would cry. As soon as I entered the airport, I realized I was not alone. I spotted a lot of Indian international students on my flight—all looking a little lost, a little frightened, but sticking together. Never have I felt the spirit of Indian community so strongly before. During the time I was in the U.S., I had the pleasure of meeting many other international students as well—some from Pakistan, from China, from South Korea—and I am worried about all of you. I want to ask you, are you okay? Are you in a place where you like to be? Are you safe? All the fellow desis, I hope you get through the live lectures without at least one of your family members popping up in front of the camera. We’re all in the middle of the next generation’s textbook pages, and the one thing that I hope comes out of this is a collective increase in affinity for each other. After all, we will have beat a global pandemic together with extensive research, unending hospital shifts, difficult decisions, discord streams, and, as always, memes.

APR 13 - 27


VOICES

Stopping the Spread Making the case that college students do actually care about COVID-19 BY HANNAH SHERIDAN College students, in a sense, already live in an isolated state. We are physically clustered around our campuses and are socially our own category; we are often seen as a specific and irreverent breed of human. In the wake of COVID-19, the implications of this characterization are exacerbated by the fact we are “young people,” many of whom would be relatively safe if infected. College students have been broadly criticized as being selfish and apathetic to the threats of COVID-19, but arguably, this is because we are easy to monitor. Our mass online presence allows everyone to see who went on spring break despite warnings not to, and who is making beer-themed jokes about coronavirus. Because many of us are reasonably safe, the ignorant comments we post are insensitive and selfish. But, there’s a lot of good being spread as well. “Social distancing” might be the biggest buzzword of 2020; in becoming Twitter fodder for jokes, it has been normalized on a mass scale. Social distancing is now our expectation of one another, and we are publically holding one another accountable. Many of my friends who have no reason to believe they’ve caught COVID-19 are self-quarantining in their apartments or, if they are able, their parents’ homes, because it is the socially responsible thing to do. They are more concerned with spreading the virus than contracting it. They fear infecting a vulnerable individual or contributing to the social overload and economic stall. My roommate even quit her job because she was uncomfortable with their lack of precaution. Whether or not we are fortunate enough to take these measures, college students are demonstrating genuine concern over public health. Despite the common narrative that college students don’t care about COVID-19, there is evidence we do care. We might even be vocalizing it more in our social distancing over social media.

THE WAKE

1

Security or Passion

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How the pandemic is making creatives doubt their ambitions BY KYLIE HEIDER Like everyone else, the COVID-19 pandemic came and sent a shockwave of uncertainty to my life. As the economy slowed to a halt, I began to worry. My parents sole income is a small business; we can’t afford to close up shop for months at a time. My spiral of worry escalated as I recognized that it is very likely we will enter a recession—would I be graduating college into a virtually non-existent job market? Growing up, when I considered future careers, I only really considered my own desires, privileged enough not to worry about my family. With the goal of being a working artist, I’m used to the invalidation that many creatives face regarding their careers. But, until now, I’d never really taken it to heart. For many of my friends pursuing BFAs, the doubt that comes with studying such “impractical” careers, such as acting or directing theatre, is something that they are not unfamiliar with. When I asked one of my friends who’s in a similar position as an actress getting her BFA, she replied in earnest: “Because I am not actively studying acting and because of financial problems, I actually feel more insecure about being an acting major… I’m trying to feel hopeful that acting matters right now, but I can’t help but feel like I should be doing more.” Asking another friend of mine, she said that she didn’t feel as though her attitude toward pursuing her artistry had changed: “It was already difficult. What’s gonna worsen it?” To those of us who are pursuing something that may not seem pragmatic, the security of another vocation comes at the cost of realizing our lifelong ambitions and passions. When neither one is more important than the other, it’s a matter of deciding what we are willing to sacrifice, or if we even have to sacrifice anything at all, for ourselves and those we love.

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SIX REVIEWS

STAY HOME AND LISTEN TO THIS 3.15.20

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Childish Gambino BY KINGA MOZES Since “This Is America,” Childish Gambino has become a household name. He has achieved pop star status through comedy, acting, and music, and is responsible for “Atlanta.” Yet, Gambino’s album “3.15.20” rejects his fame; it’s an indecipherable enigma filled with anti-pop music. The album covers a wide range of messages from police brutality in “12.38” to haunting self-reflection in “24.10.” Gambino is vulnerable in a new way through his characteristic rap-singing style, but many of the songs feel half-finished—strange, considering that Gambino worked on this album for three years, making seven-minute songs. Despite this, the music shines on “47.48,” where Gambino fleshes out what it’s like when children are first exposed to violence. The song ends with a heart-wrenching clip of his son talking about self-love. Although Gambino dismisses the mainstream, he chose to feature Ariana Grande on “Time” and 21 Savage at the end of “12.38.” However, these are the only features, retaining his lone-wolf persona. The songs seem like they were made for Gambino’s family and close friends. He holds the general public at arm’s length given that none of the songs are named, and the album is christened after the date it was first released. He took it down and re-released it without song titles or cover art. Maybe Gambino wants to keep a part of himself hidden in a society where nothing feels private, and the mystery of this album allows him this escape.

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BY GRACE DAVIS Physical health is more important than ever, but we can’t forget about supporting and maintaining stable mental health. Something I’ve been doing is spending time outside. My at-home routine consists of making coffee and taking a morning walk around my neighborhood listening to some music. For you, maybe that means creating art, reading a book, cooking—whatever it may be, throw on this playlist for some good vibes to remind yourself that there is good to be celebrated every day. Because though we may feel like it’s the end of the world as we know it, it’s not! The birds are singing, the sun is shining, and artists are creating. Enjoy the tunes, and remember to take time for yourself :) Find this playlist on our Spotify! /thewakemag STAY HOME AND LISTEN TO THIS “OK” - The Wallows “In Your Eyes” - The Weeknd “Candy Wrappers” - Summer Salt “New Light” - John Mayer “Sunflower Vol. 6” - Harry Styles “Wish You Were Sober” - Conan Gray “Feels Good” - Okey Dokey, Devon Gilfillian “Junk Of The Heart (Happy)” - The Kooks “Moon Child” - F16s “31.35” - Childish Gambino “Good Day” - Surfaces “Australia” - The Shins “Buttercup” - Hippocampus “Time” - Childish Gambino “Breathe Deeper” - Tame Impala “Sweet Disposition” - The Temper Trap “In My Room” - Frank Ocean “Lucy” - Still Woozy, ODIE “Honeypie” - JAWNY “Simple Season” - Hippo Campus “Hot Rod” - Dayglow “Here Comes the Sun” - The Beatles

This Is Us

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BY MEGAN BORMANN It’s time to take it back to 2013. The British boy band One Direction has taken the world by storm and released a documentary-style movie about how they started the band. Directed by Morgan Spurlock, the film follows Harry Styles, Liam Payne, Zayn Malik, Niall Horan, and Louis Tomlinson around the world on their Take Me Home tour. One of the saddest moments of the film is at the beginning when the five boys were almost sent home from the X-Factor. Fetus Harry Styles sobbing into his beanie is a sight that could melt the iciest heart. The sorrow is soon forgotten when the five boys are launched into super-stardom after they are put together as a group. Blending moments from the tour bus and backstage antics with live performances of songs creates something special for the audience. We get to rock out to unreleased songs, like their cover of Wheatus’s “Teenage Dirtbag,” and tear up to “Little Things.” The most notable moment of the film is when the boys get to go home and see their families for the first time in months. As fans, we can see the strain that the industry and a grueling schedule has on artists and the people they love. Despite that, this film provides a heartwarming glance into one of the biggest boy bands of our generation and how people around the world were affected by their music.

APR 13 - 27


SIX REVIEWS

Kid Krow Conan Gray BY KATELYN ANDERSON Conan Gray recently released his debut album, “Kid Krow.” It features a new sound but holds onto some of his past music, which was reminiscent of adolescence and high school. “Kid Krow” has a more grown-up sound, with electric guitar riffs and drum hits. It shows how much Gray has grown, from producing his music in his bedroom to producing it in a studio. Gray pours his heart out about the ups and downs with his crush. He represents the trials and tribulations of having a crush with upbeat, angry songs such as “Checkmate” and “Maniac,” but also with songs that pull at the heartstrings, like “Heather” and “The Cut That Always Bleeds.” Gray also has songs that are not about his romantic thoughts. He talks about how important his friends are to him with songs like “(Can We Be Friends?)” and “Little League.” He also talks about his family life in “Affluenza,” showing how toxic money can be. Conan Gray has grown into a new style of music and upgraded his sound. Gray has written and produced a successful debut album. He has proven how powerful a foundation of EPs and a YouTube following can be, and his idol Taylor Swift is a fan of his album!

YHLQMDLG Bad Bunny BY JUAN ANDRÉS RUJANA Bad Bunny continues to push boundaries on his second studio album, “YHLQMDLG,” which means “yo hago lo que me da la gana,” or “I do whatever I want.” The album is aligned with this idea, as he smoothly integrates his iconic sadboi anthems, old-school-inspired reggaeton bangers, and classic Latin trap songs. In the first half of the record, Bad Bunny explains how he deals with losing someone he loves. He shows that it’s okay to be sad as long as you keep believing in yourself. On “Ignorantes,” he questions why a relationship failed and considers how the resulting emotional pain could’ve been avoided. Bad Bunny breaks the melancholic vibe with “Safaera.” This track encompasses the “YHGLQMDLG” theme, as it has a new beat for each verse and the lyrics are as indecent as you would expect from classic reggaeton songs. The rest of the record brings in the well-known Latin trap sounds that made Bad Bunny’s first album a cult classic. The most prominent collaboration on the record is with Anuel AA on “Está Cabrón Ser Yo,” which brings two legends of Latin trap together. Bad Bunny also brings Arcangel and Kendo Kaponi in “P FKN R,” which explains how reggaeton started as an underground genre, but is now on worldwide charts. Finally, the record ends with “<3,” a sweet, melodic song in which Bad Bunny thanks fans for believing in him. He also mentions his plan to drop another album in nine months and then retire, making this sentimental track the perfect closure to the “YHLQMDLG” experience.

THE WAKE

Unorthodox

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BY JOSIE TAKESHIMA ALLEN Anna Winger, who wrote “Deutschland 83,” has made her mark with another foreign language hit, “Unorthodox.” Esty Shapiro, a strong-minded young woman who has never fit into her Hasidic community in Williamsburg, runs away from her life in a patriarchal and controlling society. The characters speak Yiddish, German, and English, mirroring the fragmentation within Esty. Although she never fit in, at first she is happy to be married at nineteen and begin a family. However, she and her husband, Yanky, are plagued by painful intercourse, which the women in Esty’s family blame her for. It is seen as her problem to fix, and the pressure begins to build. Her lack of freedom and objectification becomes too much, and she runs away to Berlin to start anew. The story itself is compelling, but Shira Haas makes the audience experience every disappointment that her character feels. Another key part is the show’s avoidance of one-dimensional, evil misogynists. The misogyny of the community is shown, but her husband is worried for her well being. He wants her to be happy, even “allowing” her to take piano lessons from a non-Jewish woman. He is sent by the rabbi to bring her back, as having someone leave “sets a dangerous precedent.” When in Berlin, he struggles with seeing what the world has to offer outside of Williamsburg. The story is a beautiful and honest portrayal of two people struggling with what their religion asks of them, one person refusing to leave and the other refusing to stay.

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With love, The Wake


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