“You’re just living, man... you’re... just there in that moment, in that special place in time. Maybe when I get back, I can write a book about my travels, you know, about getting out of this sick society. SOCIETY! SOCIETY, MAN! SOCIETY! SOCIETY! You know, SOCIETY! Cause you know what I don’t understand, I don’t understand why people, why every fucking person is so bad to one each other, so fucking often. It doesn’t make sense to me. Judgement, control, all that the whole spectrum…”
– Alexander Supertramp, Into the Wild
“The Buddha walked away, and his look and half-smile imprinted on Siddhartha’s memory forever. I have never seen a man look and smile, sit and walk like that, he thought. I, also, would like to look and smile, sit and walk like that, so free, so...
This is only my second semester at the University of New Hampshire. That would be fine and dandy if I was 18 years old and fresh out of the public high school meat grinder, but unfortunately for me, that’s not the case. I graduated in 2016 and turned 22 last week. So the question arises, “Um... what the fuck are you doin here bud?”
My academic experience is much different from what most students at UNH probably share. I didn’t live in a dorm with a stranger when I was a freshman. I don’t have an embarrassing college romance story. I never joined a shitty fraternity. For the first three years after I graduated high school, I went to a community college.
Community college is a vast hellscape with dim lighting and a shitty vending machine. It’s also anything but a community. My senior year of high school, there was a sentence I constantly heard as loud as police sirens coming from the mouths of my teachers,guidance counsel...
If there’s one thing I remember vividly from this past January, it’s the morning I woke up to the release of Mac Miller’s posthumous album Circles. Dazed and confused from my slumber, yet ecstatic and smiling from ear to ear like a kid on Christmas Day, I grabbed my headphones and absorbed what I had been anticipating for what felt like a lifetime.
As intimate lyrics and melancholy instrumentals swirled in my head, I began to feel let down. Before you turn the page and call me a hater, you should know that I was not let down by the production quality, or more importantly, the substance of Mac’s work. Rather, I wasn’t ready to hear the message Mac delivers on Circles. I was hoping for the punctuation at the end of Mac’s sentence to be a jubilant exclamation point, reminiscent of the happy-go-lucky rapper from older tracks like “Senior Skip Day.” I was hoping for the selfless undertones that encompassed GOOD A.M., the al...
Chelsea Cutler is a leading artist who has helped to shape the tone of the genre through her intimate lyrics and style. Cutler has worked with artists like Kygo, Jeremy Zucker and Quinn XCII to create poppy sounds with melancholy lyrics. Like many fellow alternative and Bedroom Pop artists, Chelsea Cutler is a bit of a sad boi. There is vulnerability in the topics she talks about, focusing on her own experience with relationships, her struggles with mental health and the uncertainty of being a teen and twenty-something today.
She paints a lyrically-raw portrayal of what it’s like to deal with personal struggles like depression in a way that steps outside of the mainstream. In her song “Sometimes,” which she wrote with Jeremy Zucker, the delicate vocals, piano melody and minimal use of instruments takes the listener on a trip into the world of her inner thoughts and struggles.
There is a secret that all women are expected to keep. But this secret plays a role in everyone’s life; this secret is the reason any of us are here. This secret is often assumed to be true, but should never be explicitly revealed. This secret exists as a beautiful fantasy in the minds of many but transforms into a condemnable reality once it comes to fruition. This secret is one that men do not have to keep; for them, it is often quite the opposite of a secret. This secret is meant to keep women contained and digestible.
But we are ready to stop keeping secrets—to be honest, we have been for a long time. As we all know, secrets don’t make friends. And thanks to women in the R&B industry today, the curtain has finally been drawn to reveal...
GIRLS LIKE SEX.
The hip-hop/R&B industry has always been testosterone-heavy. As a result of this, women become the object of conversations in songs about sex, rather than the subject...
“Stars were falling across the sky myriad and random, speeding across brief vectors from their origins in night to their destinies in dust and nothingness”
– Blood Meridian by Cormac McCarthy, pg. 347
Life floats by in a heartbeat. Ninety-three million miles from the sun, the Earth has orbited and rotated and danced its dance for nearly 4.5 billion years. And for most of that time, it has hosted life. There have been countless lives, falling across the sky like stars myriad and random, speeding across brief vectors from their origins in the night to their destinies in dust and nothingness, as Cormac McCarthy would say. It’s said that everything – including humans – is made of star stuff: sashaying and shimmering pieces of recycled life repurposed to conceive countless more dancers on the stage of existence. And somewhere along the way, life stumbled upon a method to speed up the death-and-rebirth cycle: violence.
We are driving to Virginia for Thanksgiving from New Hampshire. I have nothing to wear. Wait a minute, yes, I do, but I need to do laundry. Laundry, you foul beast, I shall vanquish you! Slowly, over hours, I will have all clean clothes. Except, I’m only going to be gone for a few days. Three days and four nights. Pajamas-check, underwear-check, undershirts-check, socks-check, deodorant-check, glasses (sun and prescription) -check. I’ve made sandwiches and have coke and have pretzels, some seltzers and 45 hours-worth of podcasts for the 10-hour drive. There tank is filled with gasoline. What time do we need to leave? Three in the morning? You must be joking… you aren’t? Well, two hours of sleep is all you really need to function like a human.
Day 1 - Drive
This podcast is talking about how mushrooms know when you’re walking around on the forest floor because of this extensive network of miles and miles of t...
DAY 1: I’m in a van with my friend I met only three months prior to this trip and five other girls I do not know. There is a tall and tanned man driving us, making small talk with us in broken English.
“Where are you from?” “Where are you studying?” “Have you ever been to Morocco before?”
Waka Waka (This Time for Africa) by Shakira is playing on the radio. We’re driving on a barely paved road as mopeds zoom past us. One moped driving next to our van had a man driving, and a woman behind him with a head scarf covering every inch of her face but her eyes. The only thing that separated the man and woman was an infant baby being held by the woman. No seatbelts, no helmets, no carrier for the infant baby; just the two seat moped and the open, warm African air.
I peered out the window taking in everything about this foreign landscape.
Suddenly the van came to a halt in the middle of the city center. The door flung open and...
You don’t need to be Teiresias or Nostradamus to know that we’re living in dire times. Regions across the world are growing more unstable by the day. Thirty million people in the United States don’t have health insurance. You have a sizable portion of America’s working class laboring two to three jobs a day. And if you placed the average UNH student in a room without any means of stimulation, chances are in about 10 minutes you’ll have a crazed lunatic jumping off the walls frothing with malignant terror over the fact that they’re almost $100,000 in student debt. It’s 80 degrees in October. Kanye West is wearing a MAGA hat. We’re currently living in a culture engorged with wickedness and depravity.
We live in a constant state of fight or flight. But it doesn’t have to be this way. In fact, I think I might have the cure. The anecdote to our aggression, the vaccine to our combustion, the de...
Perception, for what it’s worth, can be everything. While we can never fully understand the totality of somebody’s humanity, through tight-knit relationships - with their shared experiences, common bonds and intimate conversations - we are able to peel back the ornate onion of a select few and build well-rounded, two-way understandings. Conversely, I find myself all too often meeting somebody for a minute - or even bumping into them for a handful of seconds - and forming a negative opinion from that one run-in. While it sounds ignorant, we’ve all done it, judging someone’s entire character from a pebble of their existential mountain.
Perception, then, is based on our limited knowledge of whatever it is that we’re perceiving. Many of these situations seem to be extremely low-stakes, but these context-clue judgments can lead to much more explosive and detrimental outcomes. This is where prejudice and acts of racism are r...