Genealogy
Today I went to Leverett for lunch; I sat in the bright dining hall The winter sun streaming through the windows The loud chatter clouding my brain. Nothing has changed since you were here— I still see the tall twins …
Anonymous
Author
Sensory Overload
By ANONYMOUS It’s bittersweet. I mean, The idea that sex lingers. And I don’t mean that it lasted too long Or that we talked too much after. I mean, That when I’m alone And I go to trace my own …
Wildest Experience on Drugs?
Doing acid and staying up for 36 hours straight to write a final paper. Being on LSD while on a farm tour with my mom. Took an edible on a plane, saw the world split in half. …
Clumsy Drug Use or Acid Tripping?
By ANONYMOUS I love a good spontaneous vacation and my acid trip was no exception. I hadn’t even had a chance to renew my passport before the most impulsive drug trip of my life. You ever wondered what the mind …
Me, Too
Anonymous or not, I am a statistic. You know me: you see me at study breaks, you sit by me in the dining hall, you work on homework with me. But you don’t know what I haven’t told you, even as many of our peers come forward about their own history with sexual assault.
Readers: Please be aware that the content of this article contains potentially distressing material.
This Time Next Year
I will snap my driver’s license in two and try to forget where it came from. I won’t smile in my next photo. I will stop being palatable to the apparatus of the state and adopt a new state to tell myself I’m safe in this body. My hands are still sticky with honey drawn in the shape of the Battle of San Jacinto on a biscuit in 2005. I will wash them off in the Rio Grande and leave my footprints among the ancient snakes and fossils and someone might remember I was never supposed to be here in the first place. This time next year I will head …
This Time Last Year
I wandered around a hospital parking lot blasting that one Mountain Goats song on repeat at 3:30 in the morning. This time last year I chain smoked along the Charles trying to suck out the thing that didn’t necessarily claw at my insides but scratched every now and again just to remind me it was there. Sometimes I wake up coughing blood and wonder what damage has been done overnight. Sometimes I stain my sheets and don’t remember how all this blood got inside me in the first place. I wandered around that hospital parking lot because they said that something broke inside her blood, and I figured I had extra she could …
An Ode to My Goldman Sachs Lover
Dearest Finance bro For tonight, and tonight alone, make me your corporate hoe. I can see you’re from a bulge bracket And tonight I hope your bulge makes a racket. I like to keep a diversified portfolio So through my bedroom many of your kind go. But you best take a long position in your stock Or little attention will be received by your cock. I’ve always enjoyed liquidity in my assets So let’s do some double entry accounting with no ragrets; Keep going down on me until it makes you feel cheap And I’ll buy you up so you’re …
Embrace All
Heteronormativity in cultural organizations at Harvard. By ANONYMOUS Cultural organizations at Harvard support the well-being of our community in many ways. They foster a sense of home for students of similar backgrounds; they provide safe space to talk about issues related to racial and ethnic identity. But at times, social constructs and norms from home permeate into these very organizations at Harvard. Heteronormativity is one of them. I have yet to see a case of active discrimination or blatant homophobia within these cultural organizations. I would like to believe that we are all sensible Harvard students who don’t form misjudgments …
YOU HAVE TO GO FULL LESBIAN VAMPIRE
YOU HAVE TO GO FULL LESBIAN VAMPIRE you say, breath ghosting warm against the burgundy butterflies we will discover in the mirror later i swear it’s the oxytocin but we are long past things making sense, and maybe we are just tired: maybe we just want to be small and gentle and sleep, back to chest, ocean tide breaths carrying us through the wide quiet night
The High Functioning Trap
More than what you produce. By ANONYMOUS Standing in an empty kitchen in an apartment in Brookline, my boyfriend and his new roommate talk about their experiences with hospitalization. They swap programs, talk about partial hospitalizations and residential stays. I stay silent. Somehow, despite being actively suicidal several times a week throughout high school and self-harming on and off for six years, I managed to avoid ever being hospitalized. Always stopping on the edge something that would be majorly self-destructive, something that would get noticed. My therapist finally mentioned recently that I probably have Borderline Personality Disorder, confirming …
The HUDS Strike and My Recovery
A struggle with disordered eating. I had only just recovered from years of starving myself and constantly upsetting myself over food anxieties when the HUDS strike rumors had begun. The talk of food instability for some caused understandable stress, but the mere mention of food created this nagging feeling in my gut much worse than any hunger I’ve caused myself. At the beginning of this year, I had finally started making real peace with myself. The summer had been long and full of days I couldn’t get out of bed, and certainly not out of my room to go searching …
He Dreams in Monotony
A short story. The dream was always the same for him now: the idle purchase of some item one day would slowly multiply by crawling twos and fours into a weekly and then a daily ritual, inviolate as the surety of the lethal pull of gravity and the noose, steadily tightening its hold on the hapless dreamer whose purchases came to define and then consume him and fill his house, and then storage units and streets and eventually his town, his country, his continent, and the world itself in the multiplied vastness of an endless set of uniform purchases, self-sustaining …
Sex and the Chronically Single Girl
One gal recounts the lessons learned from her sexcapades. For one of my classes, we had to read Sylvia Plath’s The Bell Jar. The book’s protagonist Esther has an obsessive worldview of sex. At one point Esther says she sees the world divided between people who had sex and those who hadnǯt. To some degree, upon entering college and first discovering my own sexuality, I could relate to Esther’s social dichotomy. I felt as though everyone around me was having hook ups, and I was the one on the sidelines. I finally got to enter the game of sex January …
No Time For Wasting Time
A plea for more honesty in the college hook up culture. Let’s be honest. The college hook up culture is not going to change itself. Countless articles have been written on the end of romance and the degradation in the sanctity of sex. Yes, that is probably accurate. Thanks to ~the media~ sex has become more visible to younger eyes, and technology has made it more accessible than ever before. Is that necessarily a bad thing? When done right (read: consensually) more sex is more fun. The hook up culture has at least delivered this to our dorm room doorsteps; …