“The Stars— they’re just like us!” Or are they? An analysis of the fabrication behind Adele’s relatable success, the Jennifer Lawrence effect, and the uncanny valley.
Stasis in darkness.
Then the substanceless blue—
In the picture I have of you, Melts in the wall.???
The idiot
A cleft in your chin instead of your foot,
your root,
I never could tell where you—
Put your foot—
For the hearing of my heart—
It really goes.
We asked our stable of unstable writers to reflect on fear — personal, conceptual, metaphysical. They started with 300 words and narrowed focus and word count, by halves.
The second day of school was harder than expected. After purchasing my freakishly heavy textbooks from Labyrinth and grabbing a cup of coffee, I figured it was time to plan out the rest of my afternoon. First order of business: take a nap. Second order of business: at least try to print out the problem set due in two days.
“Why does it happen that our time in Warsaw culminates in this very room, face to face with a novel that seems, much like the Palace of Culture and like the current incarnation of the city of Warsaw, to plant itself resolutely on top of a history that has no monuments, no voice to speak for itself?”
Memories may fade as distance grows wider between ourselves and our young selves, but one thing remains constant: if we dig down deep into the recesses of our experiences, hold light up to the seeds of our current moment, brush off the dust, we might find something worth writing about.
