The Weekender

my head is exploding / and the world reverberates with static / I am an old abandoned tv that / no one remembered to switch off

The Weekender staff is excited to be back to share with readers pieces of various topics, styles and genres. In this first issue of the semester — and the new year — our writers all look inward.

When you disappear, none of us notice until you’re gone. Turning the corner, we make a left and descend the stairs to the parking lot. It’s littered with vehicles, waste and gum on the concrete. Someone is screaming, I don’t know who. Maybe we’re all screaming all at once. 

Superstitions are viewed as irrational beliefs that deal with supernatural ideas and stem from a fear of the unknown. They can also act as a form of comfort to the human experience.

The rain will stop in two hours — and when it stops, the city will wake up to a sunny sky, clueless about the wet melancholy of the night.

Tickets for all 52 shows of the Eras Tour were only sold online through Ticketmaster. The Swifties have been unleashed — and with this development, the fight to break up Ticketmaster may finally succeed. 

The singular dimension we travel through doesn’t allow us to bring the past back in all its authenticity. But we can revisit the past, and sometimes take hold of its malleability, simply reimagining it.

I’d been joking for some time that my Berkeley goggles were in the mail, but the truth of the matter was that after four months of school, I still hadn’t acclimated to the general populous who gravitated towards the Holy Trifecta of Hinge, Bumble and Tinder in Alameda County.

Where do acorns come from? Do they come from oaks? Acorns are, after all, the “oaknut.” Or do oaks come from acorns?

Gray. The color of the fog and mist over the water, clouding my view of everything I have ever known. I fear that one day I will forget. I don’t want to forget.