2811, 2022

Meditation of Self

Chiara Bruzzi/ November 28, 2022/ Activism, Guest Writers/ 0 comments

By: Lucia Bruzzi You often hear that as humans we are intersectional beings, we are the creators and the result of our environments. We are the makers and the embodiment of our history, present and future. Within every history, story and myth there is truth. We are the observer of our worlds, and it’s only by sharing how we come to be that we can ground ourselves in our realities. Social biographies are important because they allow the reclaiming of identity to those whose voice was lost in the fabrication of history. But, social biographies also help us understand our

1411, 2022

Navigating New Shores

Chiara Bruzzi/ November 14, 2022/ Behavior, Guest Writers/ 0 comments

By: Noor Sahar Chafouk “Noor, let go.” – “No!’– “Let go, you’ll be fine. You gotta learn somehow.”A splurge of water softly wraps itself around my arms. “Swim!” I open my eyes frantically to find myself tossed into the blissful Agadir waters. This is it. I’m swimming for the first time. No need to gasp for air, no need to think about how to jump in. I was just thrown into the wide abyss of the sea, but I felt more alive than ever. Call it adrenaline, call it the primal need for survival – but 7-year old me felt

0711, 2022

To Be Invisible: The Neglect of Chronic Pain Patients

Chiara Bruzzi/ November 7, 2022/ Activism, Guest Writers/ 0 comments

By: Mia Scemla Chronic pain is like a blaring alarm clock. Picture your morning alarm abruptly waking you at 6 in the morning; you roll over and snooze the alarm. Then, it goes off again, and again, and again, until you’re awake. You can throw your phone, smash it on the floor, break it into pieces, yet its harassment never ceases. Chronic pain is an experience that only those who speak the language can understand, and I speak fluently. For the purpose of providing perspective, I will bring up matters of my own experience with my chronic pain. In this

3110, 2022

An Unsent Poem

Chiara Bruzzi/ October 31, 2022/ A Collection of Reactions, Guest Writers/ 0 comments

By: Celine Choi I didn’t learn how I would have to hold myself tightly in empty rooms until her fear threw a peach, flesh and fruit bruising one another. But you invented a pain I had never survived before– it consumes. I didn’t learn how I would have to hold myself tightly in empty rooms until I viewed my mother as an art installation swinging by the wire. In the painting she’s a lone ranger with a smoking gun. Her regret blooms. I wrote letters to you after you cut me. You were bleeding too, I assumed. In my letters

2410, 2022

The Taxi Driver in a Netflix Show

Chiara Bruzzi/ October 24, 2022/ Guest Writers, Relationships/ 1 comments

By: Anonymous Bodies. Breathing. Diverse. Sun touched. Tanned and stretched, marked yet bare. Born from the earth, flowing from the womb. Burning with the warmth of a lingering touch. A kiss. Entangled in unison, the feeling of want. A want to navigate your lonesome vastness, a desire so deeply seeded within you but slowly festering every open wound of your body, edging its way to your heart. A heart that pumps for him, a mind that yearns for her. I was never conscious of my looks. I grew up in a homogenous nation, a land rich in dark skin and

1909, 2022

We Didn’t Wait for Spring

Chiara Bruzzi/ September 19, 2022/ A Collection of Reactions, Activism, Guest Writers/ 0 comments

By: Daniel Fruman (01.03.2022) We didn’t wait for spring, Young people never do. Instead we cursed the summer For its swift departure. We worried about tables booked at clubs, About how we would celebrate our birthdays, About planning reunions That every day seem farther. We didn’t wait for spring, Because exams were just around the corner, Because we were consumed in trivial pursuits. Sitting at a pub that Wednesday evening, I didn’t wait for spring. World-weary with naïveté, we watched the news, And didn’t wait for spring. “The war has started” “God help us” Half-awake I saw the words on

1209, 2022

Summer 2018, “The Best Two Weeks of My Life”

Chiara Bruzzi/ September 12, 2022/ Guest Writers, Mindset/ 0 comments

by: Celine Choi When I had cancer, I was a girl who was defined by her bravery first—bald and timid but sustained by the outpouring of love from healthcare professionals, her best friend, and above all, her parents. I did not hide my illness nor did I let it define me. But when I turned 16, I became a patient of another illness. This time, I fear that it is endemic, and does define me. The illness is depression, and it is a cruel master that asks me to prove my worth again and again, relentlessly. Academically, I was no