The Flip Side – Editing the Archives
The flip side when Everything is a film and the Kodak squares overlap Sunlight on railing legs and you cross the road without pressing the button *pause breath birds wind cars* light headed head y d a z e w h e […]
Futile Reflections
“If I write what I feel, it’s to reduce the fever of feeling. What I confess is unimportant, because everything is unimportant.” Ideas are futile unless articulated. Ideas are like water, with a transparent nothingness that only solidifies after finding form in the contours of words. But if id
Collage, your pieces do not quite Fit
You, rehearsed cynic at 18, lamented about modern poetry. ‘Not everything is like something else.’ No, but too naive to omit The unbearable likeness of your being. A facsimile of a facsimile, A patchwork hand-sewn man with hidden seams, An ego built on historicity and a hai
Inventing the Aesthetics of Trans-Femininity
At some point during my first semester of college, I found myself naked in another girl’s room. I was a newly out trans fem trying on her old clothes, desperate for anything feminine to wear. The third or fourth time this happened (call me a heartbreaker), I picked up a slip of fabric with a [&hel
Maybe I’m an anti-intellectual
A year ago, a friend from home visiting Oxford took a deep breath after my new friends left the room. She said “you all speak really fast.” That “I’m on the last thing, and you’re onto the next. It’s all going over my head.” I was embarrassed. I realised only lat
Equus: Talking to director Marianne Nossair
Bestiality. Making out with horses. Sweaty, sexual intercourse fantasies atop their backs. Dreams, nightmares, and the sacred deification of them. Not exactly what I was expecting from my Saturday afternoon; but instead of being horrified or repulsed, I came out of Equus strangely sympathetic toward
The mastery of Love Island
It was Monday 3rd June, half past ten. The girls were all in their pyjamas with cups of tea in hand. Biscuits and stale popcorn were sprawled across a makeshift table. Layla’s single bed had been pushed up against the wall. An individual spinny chair had been ripped away from her desk and t
In conversation with: Saba Sams
Throughout the years I have been reassured by many of the real adults in my life that ‘I shouldn’t be anxious for the future; most people don’t reach the top of their game until their 40s!’ I also find this sentiment is often echoed all over social media, with posts reminding us that