Tropical Time Loop
This place has no four seasons, solely days That weave and bleed beneath the beating sun. Harsh light, sweat-lined limbs, briny to the taste,
Why Girlboss Feminists Make Us Nauseous
Not long ago, fitness influencer Grace Beverley (formerly known under the moniker GraceFitUk) released her highly anticipated debut book entitled Working Hard, Hardly Working: How to achieve more, stress less and feel fulfilled. The book claims to give insight into the productivity hacks and management strategies that launched Grace into the forefront of entrepreneurial success.
Infographic Activism on Instagram is Performative and Weird
The idea for this post started rumbling at the back of my mind almost a year ago. I was browsing through Instagram, as one does when trapped indoors with nothing better to do owing to a disease ravaging the world. After some mindless clicking, I stumbled upon an infographic that one of my friends had reposted to her stories. It warned against the “whitewashing” of characters in animated TV and included a picture of Yue, a character with stark white hair and blue eyes from the Nickelodeon animated series Avatar the Last Airbender. Immediately, I DMed my friend to point out the incorrectness of the graphic she had shared.
Was Thanos Right About Saving Earth?
The most memorable antagonists are the ones that make you reconsider your position on an issue. They are not evil for evil's sake but operate from a moral compass that, while unpopular, is entirely understandable and at least partially agreeable. In this regard, Thanos stands out. If you are unfamiliar with the Marvel Cinematic Universe (MCU), Thanos (huge purple dude, weird chin) is an overarching villain who first makes an appearance in the first Avengers movie in a post-credits scene. His presence remains enigmatic as the heroes move from film to film, but as the universe expands, the audience is able to piece together little nuggets of information about him.
Exploring My Teen Angst Using Overused Music Stock Photos
When I graduated from fifth form, my school organized a dance for everyone in my year to celebrate the momentous occasion. The idea of this event terrified me because my name and 'dancing' really shouldn't be anywhere near each other, but I went anyway for fear of missing out on "the time of my life." Awkwardly wobbling about in 6-inch heels, I made my way to the Hilton hotel, clad in a bedazzled peach gown that I most definitely didn't have the chest for. I prepared myself to have a glorious night, or at the very least, pretend that I did. However, when I arrived, I spent the evening subjected to death glares from another girl in my year, someone I had spoken to maybe once or twice in the five years that I had attended secondary school. Coincidentally, we had worn the same dress: mine in brilliant peach and hers in an illustrious grey. Different colours, but still self-evidently the same dress.
Can Writers Be Apolitical?
Short answer: no. No, they cannot. Long answer: it's a little more complicated than that. I find discussions of politics to be incredibly fascinating. Maybe it's because I study in a program heavily based on politics and write about current affairs every day. Growing up, I was privy to a phrase that rings in my ears to this day. Three things you never talk about: money, politics and religion. I have to say, even as a child, I thought this was a weird turn of phrase. On the smörgåsbord of interesting conversational topics, why is politics off limit? What about politics triggers our delicate sensibilities and makes such topics untenable?
The Delicate Art of Constructive Criticism
A month ago, I read a story by another Vocal Creator entitled All Writers Are Mean. The writer expressed her frustration with the quality of criticism launched against a fellow creator after a win in a Vocal challenge. It was brutal. The grand prize was $2,500, and some creators were nitpicking and tearing apart the winner’s work. The writer concluded that the writing space is mired in jealousy, envy and meanness. I've said as much in an article I published a while ago. Tucked away in the back of my mind, I didn't revisit this story until the completion of the Little Black Book challenge a few weeks ago.
A Rehabilitated Swiftie’s Guide to Zen
I have owned two albums physically in my 22 years of life: Kelly Clarkson’s Breakaway (randomly) and Taylor Swift’s Fearless. Growing up, we had this really beat-up VCR/DVD player hybrid that was perpetually on its last legs, and it was through this medium that I blasted all the songs on Fearless on repeat. Many years later, I regard this album with great fondness and nostalgia and can still belt the songs line-by-line. I consider myself to be what one would call a rehabilitated Swiftie. Taylor’s music was the backdrop to my early childhood, but somewhere between my first and second year of secondary school, I fell off the bandwagon. The transition to secondary school was rough. I was a bit of a nerd (still am) and was often admonished for my taste in music, with many labelling me an“Oreo." For those of you reading this who aren’t black, this is a grave insult when launched at a black person. It is almost a denial of your blackness because of your consumption of different forms of popular culture. As if your blackness could be erased by something as trivial as the type of music you enjoyed.