featuring work from: Danny Cole, Genevieve Nollinger, Jheyda McGarrell, Carlos Semedo, Dominic Patterson, Emma Czerwinski, Cybelle Corwin, Kaitlyn Crosby, Zamar Velez, Shamshawan Scott, Samuel d’Saboia, Lily Carson, Sam Casper, & Miles Singleton.


Alone Together

by Danny Cole


Weetzie Bat

Annotated by a 13-year-old Genevieve

img780 copy.jpg


Jheyda McGarrell

I’ve done shrooms the last 3 days, a spiritual journey to think about why I’ve been thinking of prey. 4 am to the airport, there is nothing left of the feeling of care to keep me company on the way. The potholes and I dance alone on empty highway. When I came into town I’d see your face, I was hoping I’d find another reason to jump around the coasts. I’ve been flighty for a while now, getting away from the things that feel unresolved, I hoped you’d wait a little bit longer. I can’t count months properly, days felt like lifetimes when you’d come around. Last time I’ll see you, framed by windows paid by money I didn’t yet have. Safe flight, you’d wish me well but I’d know the look in someone’s eyes when I’d let them down.

You told me late at night the reason I’m used is because I love too much, too open, too free, too many faces that matter to me. I told him late at night the reason, tomorrow I will forget, yesterday I’ve forgotten- I am reckless with my heart. I left that night, knees collapsed outside of blue truck, I can’t walk away if my body doesn’t want to leave you like this. I left that night, too many words said, too many knives piercing my own heart. 

When I get back to New York, this time I feel relative comfort. Comfort of being somewhere familiar, comfort of my candles and incense, comfort of routines. Suitcases lay half full on my bedroom ground, never having been unpacked from the last time I left town. I’ve been walking around with your words heavy on my mind. “I just thought, I just thought”. I’ve been walking around with feelings of guilt, am I wrong for who I am ? 

He’d come over late every time he came, he came over late to sleep in my bed. In the morning we’d fuck and I’d forget that I told myself I don’t like this but I did and I do. The attention of someone I could look up to, someone who didn’t treat me like an entity. I’ve been wanting to get slapped but it made me feel bad to tell you. To let you know that my face begs to sting when I see a certain look in your eye. I sit alone sometimes and wonder if its okay to want things that hurt. 

Question my relationship with pain; Question my relationship with love; Laugh in the face of the devil          


It's been a while since I wrote the beginning paragraphs, fresh off a heartache I started pondering on the sentiments behind shame. Here I sit, over two decades old still deciphering how to deal with my shame. I am ashamed I still even feel shame. Shame is defined as: a painful feeling of humiliation or distress caused by the consciousness of wrong or foolish behavior. I've personally been trying to grapple with how shame is ingrained in how we participate in ourselves. Our sexualities, physical pleasure, aesthetic self representation are all influenced by the shame taught to us. When I began writing this, I was actively participating in my shame. Trying to express myself about these topics has not grown easier as I age, to feel peace in vulnerability, without shame is something I desire most. To say we fucked and fucked and fucked. To hear words from someone I care for and have them drift with ease out of my head instead of lock themselves into my set of standards. I am still trying to figure out how to say I am understanding with myself, say I don’t care what others think of me but how do we figure out things that cannot fit into the binary of done with or not? How can we not care about thoughts of people we care about?

I wish we could indulge, in peace.

 Sweet things taste just as sweet when we’re allowed to have them. 




I Live In L.A.

Emma Czerwinski


Itsy Bitsy Bikini

Cybelle Corwin


iPad Drawing

Kaitlyn Crosby



Carmine (preview of new zine)

Zamar Velez

(purchase here)

About the zine in Zamar’s words… “I decided to use the color red because of the reds in the old film stock called “kodachrome”. The reds in kodachrome always instantly stood out to me. I started by shooting all my friends wearing red or just looking for things red and photographing it. These are about a year’s worth of photos focusing on this concept. I love photographing my friends and making them look beautiful or cool because it makes them feel good about themselves. That’s all I really want to do, make people feel good, so I can do that through photography.

The book is called Carmine because it perfectly describes the reds in the book. Very deep and vivid. Kinda resembles the color of blood. I just think it looks tight.”

Excerpts from Carmine


Kodachrome References Below


Jawbreaker Throwback

Shamshawan Scott



By Emma Czerwinski

See out city wide don’t know what I see. 

Cars moving collaterally. 

Peacocks up on the top of the hill I hear them calling across the way. Look out over at downtown, so loud so noisy i’m here so quiet so sweet. The sky looks like a treat (always does though). Eat up the moments thats what they say to do. Live all day long like a vegetable laying in the sun incarcerated by the fun we are supposed to have. Everyone over on every weekday and staying til the morning playing pretend talking shit talking and smoking. I don’t know if thats a star or a satellite rocket. Everything gonna be okay I promise. Everything gonna be okay I promise. 

Falling in love again, eyes all red. Falling in love again, next day wish they was dead. Some theorize that this earth is hell you know, you can choose to believe that if it eases your mind. Find something else to believe if it doesn’t. 

I could have another life but I have mine.

A house that faces the view without windows. Sit and watches a screen. The difference is that’s what the decision is. Put it online and its callout culture. Put it in a book and its juicy, and I wish you wrote more about ME! ME ME ME! Thats what Ill call it, this fucking big hole in my pocket. 

After this week I really need a break from things. 

Get back to my mind and what I make of things. 

its in summer that things are happening so in LA its always happening. When its hot I get all naked and happy dancing and smiling and whatever else. Cover up the wall with plaster, chip off the paint from the floor, gloss it seal it stick it forgot it we are gonna trash it again by next weekend. Don’t swim if you don’t wanna go in the deep end. hoowwww am i supposed to make money without discluding kids who are poor? I don’t wanna charge too much but I’m not mass producing so the markup is nothing idk it’s all super confusing. rhyming in doctor suess schemes. waking up from fever dreams like fuck i’m not sick anymore. 

turn up at the discography and icon photography. 

Wanna make a movie but can’t remember to even drink water

help me guitarist

help me old big eyes

help me find this meaning to life

help me know what i’m supposed to do 

with it

without it

forget it

dead flowers cycle out create different bouquets shams falling asleep on a flower pillow clothes in a trash bag pink purse in a black suitcase clothes hanging in a coughed open closet putting face cream on before bedtime things got relocated

make it fake it break it take it 

drop the last name and pick it up now you’re famous

drop the last name

now pick it up …


I’m Tired and I think I love it

by Lily Carlson




coming soon……..