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CONTRIBUTORS AUDRIE GRETZ MATT CHAMBERLAIN JOEY DREW BEN BELLAMACINA GABE BALDWIN JANICE RENEE AJA VILLACRES SAMANTHA LOPEZ Z GOSCK PJ CARMICHAEL ERIS GENTLE TRISH CONNELLY BECKY BACSIK
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AUDREY
GRETZ
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HOPE So little light, and yet what magic on the mono. Brocade day from pewter’s palette; uplit cloud that glistens like a minnow’s flank; roofs are curled-up post-its on the setting bronze. Poems write themselves in morning’s amber silhouette and, thinking big, you sit small, varnished brown yet all gold with hope - like tiny fish that glitter large in monochrome.
MATT CHA MBER LAIN 8
JOEYDREW
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BEN BELLA MACINA 10
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ALDWIN
GABE
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J R 16
JANICE RENEE 17
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AJA
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VILLACRES
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IT’S OKAY TO NOT BE OKAY I’ve always felt like I was a step-behind. That the culmination of my past--the trauma, the pain--which was less than traditional has somehow stunted my ability to grow and mature at the rate as everyone else. I know I’m 23 and this is the age to question who I am, what I like and don’t like, and to feel ultimately uncertain and confused--but somehow I think mine is more than that. There will be nights when I think I’m making progress and doing O.K., when suddenly this wave of existential dread washes over me. I’ll suddenly feel like I’m drowning in everyday anxieties that come along with modern-living. Sometimes I get really overwhelmed by the thought of existing-And sometimes I feel silly for being proud of little moments when I feel as though I’m doing more than existing, I’m living--I’ll make breakfast, clean my room, shower, go out with friends, go to work--essentially basic things that come along with being an actual person-but it’s because for a long time all I felt I was doing was going through the motions. It’s because most of the time I don’t feel like an actual person. I feel silly for feeling accomplished for exploring new hobbies--I’ve picked up drawing and making art, I want to learn guitar, photography, etc--I feel silly that I’m 23 and only now trying to get to know my interests--wasn’t that what college was for? High school? I feel ashamed, embarrassed, insecure--that I’m overwhelmed with this weird sense of pride and joy when I find myself out at a party with friends on a Saturday night, enjoying myself and I’m eager to let people know, “Hey, I feel like really alive, right now!” I’m just now learning how to let myself feel--which is a funny thing to hear for anyone who’s known me a while--they’d all say I’ve always been extremely emotional. Except I think what I was doing was trying to avoid being overstimulated by feeling anything, because I felt everything at once, that it all just seeped out as a big clusterfuck of sadness and anxiety.
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SA
I’m o n
s.
wing
gh
e of joy”
one ept ing,
LOPEZ
onal I d to at. enly in
SAMANTHA I feel things in extremes--whether that’s happiness, sadness, excitement, nervousness--and most of the time I try to push them away, back inside, so they won’t cause literal, physical pain. I’ve only recently learned that it’s okay to feel things in extreme and that those pains would lessen if I just allowed myself to feel what I was feeling, without feeling ashamed. This is my thought process, or has been-I started going to trauma therapy a few months ago, after a meltdown over the phone to my parents and after I cried to them, “I can’t feel this way anymore, I want to be okay.” I still get overwhelmed with the thought of existing, except now I just let myself feel that. I still get excited about my newly-found interests, or nights spent with friends--but that’s okay. Because five years ago, I didn’t think I’d make it to 23 years old. Five years ago, I didn’t think I would be days aways from ringing in the one-year anniversary of moving halfway across the country by myself, or do any of the things I’m currently doing now. I didn’t think I’d ever feel anything except for a constant buzz of anxiousness radiating through my body, because now even if what I’m feeling is pain, sadness, or hurt--it’s something I can identify. This year my goal is to understand that it’s okay to not be okay. It’s okay to feel uncertain and anxious, and even sad-Because not being okay is just one step closer to being okay.
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BLA
From the and
floa hea
with fee. to b
Flam fuel
rele trap
spir and
des
Fall slip des
thro Cor
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From the ashes of waste, the remnants of discarded furniture and packaging from processed foods, floats the carcinogenic miracle, headed for the heavens with no intention of paying the entry fee. (A costly cover charge to be sure.) Flames swallow the excess debris, fuel for a dirty fire, releasing the noxious ghosts trapped therein, spirits haunted by preservatives and unanswered prayers,
through gaping holes in the pit. Corroded metal permits the passageway.
desperate for a view from the looming clouds. Fallen embers scorch the Earth, slip through the cracks, descend into soil through gaping holes in the pit. Corroded metal permits the passageway.
More scraps are thrown into the blaze, their fumes littering the open air, choking out the nearby trees, racing towards the void above. Vapors combust. Glass melts. Dead wood burns leisurely. Ink evaporates from the paper it’s printed on as the carrier is incinerated.
Forgotten plastics, misplaced bottles and bags, fall victim to the inferno. Black smoke rises, piercing all possibilities of an unblemished future.
PJ CARMICHAEL
BLACK SMOKE
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ERIS GENTLE 26
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