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​GLHS Literary Magazine Edition II 

Submit to the Edition III Here!
Read Edition I Here

THOUGHTS FROM CHAOS: EDITION II

TABLE OF CONTENTS
Picture
 
Nithya Janapti

Art

Untitled, Nithya Janapti
Carmen, Payton Kuska
Untitled, Shreeya More
Quiescent May, Laura Yang
Dream of Dawn, Laura Yang
Diantha, Tanya Basak
Untitled, Esha Macha 
​Mountains, Anika Dwivedi
Untitled, Shweta Shah 
summer sunsets, Shweta Shah
Untitled, Esha Macha 
​lake days, Shweta Shah
reminisce, Aida Guo

Orca Mosaic, Shweta Shah
Untitled, Laura Yang 
Dances of War, Jake Juliano
Night in the Clouds, Sophia Landry 
Holding on to the Galaxy, Sanjana Gupta 
​West Coast Waters, Avery Dillie 
Daisy, Isabella Hinz 
lately, Aida Guo 
Mama, Sophia Landry 
Good Morning, Sophia Landry 
Drama Llama, Sophia Landry 
A Mother's Bond, Jaya Nadella 
Red Fish Blue Fish, Sophia Landry
American Girl Doll Clothing, Carly Barello



Poetry/Prose

Tears of a Willow Tree, Abby Lu
twelve hours, Liane Ma
2020, Lia Hodges
Procrastinating Productivity, Jake Juliano
Mono, Aida Guo
Strict Parent Things, Milla Grabowski
t i m e, Liane Ma
isn't it lonely?, Aida Guo
later..., Aida Guo
she, Aida Guo
Picture
 
"Carmen",
Payton Kustka
 
 

Tears of a Willow Tree

By Abby Lu
She forced herself to stop after she stumbled over an unseen tree root for the third time. Panting, she bent over, trying to catch her breath. Tradition, she sneered to herself. What a lousy concept. Her resentment for her deceased ancestors grew. What girl in modern times would want to grow up to be married off to a complete stranger? What girl in modern times spent their days dreaming about arranged marriage? What girl in modern times aspired to be a housewife?

That’s what was expected of her, anyway. She stood straight again, glaring around at the ominous trees as the wind whispered through the leaves, swirling around her dark hair. Her breathing had calmed, and she glanced forwards to see the small treehouse at the opposite end of the clearing.

Yes. That was what she had come for.

When she was small, her father had built her this treehouse on the single oak tree amongst the abundance of willow trees surrounding the clearing. It’s your getaway, he’d told her. You will always be safe here. This is where you can dream. She remembered laughing with her mother over Pride and Prejudice and downing glasses of chilled lemonade with her father sitting right here at the base of the tree, all those years ago.

​​Times had changed. Her mother had fallen ill and passed far too soon, and her father had retreated into himself. A shell of a man, the townsfolk called him. He began to despise any shows of affection and love, and his face was permanently shaped into a scowl. He had married out of love, of course. He defied his
ancestors and eloped with the woman he had fallen for, and he had come to see her early death as a punishment for his defiance. This, of course, explained her father’s determination to marry his daughter off - to follow in his ancestors’ footsteps and escape the wrath of fate.
Picture
Shreeya More
 

She grabbed hold of the rope ladder leading up to the treehouse and pulled herself into the treehouse, watching almost observationally as her ink stained hands stabilized her body securely in the small building. Glancing around, she saw the familiar stacks of books and makeshift pen holders made of old empty water bottles, a flute case balanced precariously on top of the organized mess. She weaved her way through to the very back, where a small wooden desk sat. It was the one clear surface in the entire tree house, with only a box of matches and a small candle in the corner.

She felt her anger ebbing away as she soaked in her safe space - replacing it was the deepest sadness, a grief for the life she thought she could have had. She picked up a pile of papers that sat on the floor next to the desk - a stack of her short stories, her passionate thoughts, her dreams and aspirations. Sinking to
the ground, she fingered through each sheet lovingly, rereading her most prized writings. Looking back, she laughed at how oblivious she had been. She had dared to dream, dared to wish for a life that was just out of her reach.
​
In the blink of an eye, she was over at the window of the treehouse, the stack of papers in one hand and a lit match in the other. As the papers trailed out of the window one after the other, half ablaze, half ash, she said her final goodbye to the sole tether that offered her an escape out of the realities of this harsh world - subconsciously also letting go of the last shreds of hope she had clung onto for so many years - a hope for understanding, for acceptance, for any sort of potential.
As the final strains of light from the flames flickered out, the whirling wind of a rising storm threw the fallen leaves into the air, and the girl cried with the weeping willows weighted down with the heaviness of rain, heartbreak, and the loss of a million dreams and ambitions that were crushed under the sharp
reality that had been blurred by naivety.

twelve hours

By Liane Ma
Picture
 
Quiescent May,
Laura Yang

Picture
 
Dream of Dawn,
Laura Yang
7:00: alarm sounds. void of glasses, I splash my face with what I hope is productivity but really is just plain water.

8:00: trying to study. starting the rough draft is always harder than finishing the final, and attempting to begin the day is worse.

8:30: first class. more or less awake, with words floating around my brain. copying it down is easy, learning is not. 

9:01: breakfast! milk tea and buns, thank you, for giving me spirit to continue.

9:46: the little red button at the bottom of the screen beckons me. 

10:00: and so it goes. smiling, weary faces mirror my own in 144 pixels as the forty-seven of us join the kahoot. 

10:57: i stretch after reluctantly leaving the meeting. apparently you can stretch your stress away.  

1:00: i think eating is positive and negative. positive because my energy level seems to grow tenfold, but negative since my body wants to put all that energy to sleep.

2:13: we pick up rackets and head outside into the backyard with clearer air, full sun and chirping all around us.

3:02: checking the news is important, but heartbreaking. headlines shouting at us in bold black about healthcare workers on the front lines, self-quarantine, and soaring numbers.

3:04: temporary joy comes in the relief of snacking. true joy comes in the form of comfortable silence on facetime.
​
6:17: sometimes, i just want to lay on my bed and sleep until the sun sets again.

7:00: and so the day ends in food, ready to begin again in the next twelve hours in quarantine. 
Picture
 
Diantha, 
Tanya Basak

2020

By Lia Hodges
Welcome to 2020,
We’re glad you’re here,
But if you came for a good time, 
You better find a new year,

Everyday something different,
Another tragedy in the news,
We try to hold it together,
But somethings bound to light the fuse,

The climate keeps on changing,
And no one seems to care,
But if Ellen makes a rude remark,
The whole world is aware,

In January, 
Australia began to burn,
In February,
Relations between the U.S. and Iraq took a turn
In March,
The stock market crashed,
And all the while,
Covid ensured having fun was in the past,


Picture
Mountains,
Anika Dwivedi
Picture
Esha Macha
 


​The world mourned,
For all people who are a victim,
Of police brutality,
Lives lost because of a corrupt system,

Everyone tried to find a silver lining,
Finding hobbies to pass the time,
But it's hard to enjoy yourself,
When going to stores feels like a crime,

Welcome to 2020,
We are only halfway there,
Feel free to press the skip button, 
To the end of the year​
 

Procrastinating Productivity

By Jake Juliano
Picture
Shweta Shah
 

​As long as it’s for school or work or something to make money
I’m being productive 
As long as it’s exercise or skin care or mental care it’s being productive
As long as we’re doing “something”

But what about when we are doing something
But it’s just not something “productive”
The things we do to procrastinate 

We only procrastinate to put off “productivity”
But productivity is considered worthy
But worth is only where people place value
So if so many people value their time scrolling through social media
Or staying up late talking with their friends
Then what is true productivity 

What is productivity other than to make our lives better?
What is productivity other than making our lives worse?

Learning is essential, but is homework?
Learning is essential, but is classwork?
Working is essential, but is overtime?
Working is essential, but is any time?


Picture
Esha Macha
 







If I disengage in class or at work
Then is that really somewhere worth being?
Is that really productivity?
If my brain is telling me to do something else?
Is my subconscious or conscious more correct?
My subconscious knows what it wants for me
But my conscious knows what it wants for you

Procrastination is just delaying being productive 
But if we procrastinate so much
Then what is true productivity 
Is procrastination putting off productivity
Or is productivity putting off procrastination

If I value my time elsewhere
Then why does your opinion matter more than my own
Isn’t it my life after all?
Do I deserve punishment for valuing my time with health
And happiness
And pleasure
And friends and family and free time?
Do I deserve reward for valuing my time with something my body constantly rejects?

Who’s to say what’s more valuable?
You? Or me?
It is my life after all
But I need you for money
For the currency of life
So until you value something my body finds productive
Then I guess I’ll forever continue to procrastinate 
Procrastinate being productive 
Productively procrastinate
​The deceit of productivity
The illusion of value
The misconception of worth
The lie of time well spent

We spend so much time working
Learning
Studying
Producing
But for what?
We don’t even care for this output
We only do it for the money
Unless of course you’re in it for the friends
But no one is free of productive deception

These things we see as valuable
Does it create money? Yes
Does it create happiness? No
Does it create a prosperous future? Yes
Does it create a good future? 🤷‍♂️

We give up time in the name of productivity
We give up friends and family
Pleasure and leisure
Sleep and health and well-being
Happiness and sanity
But for what?


Picture
summer sunsets,
Shweta Shah
 






​Money is not value
Except for that it is
Money does not determine our value
Except for that we see it to

If I’m watching YouTube instead of doing a project
Am I being productive?
What if I’m watching educational YouTube?
What if that project has no value to me?
What if that project has no value to my education or paycheck?
Am I procrastinating by watching YouTube?
Or am I procrastinating by being productive?

What if I’m writing music instead of memorizing facts or sleeping through meetings?
What if writing music is what I value?
What if writing music can make me money later on?
What if being “productive” has no value to me?
Am I procrastinating or being productive?

What if I’m sleeping?
Sleep is healthy, right?
What if it means I don’t finish an assignment?
Is that healthy?
What if it means I don’t do the laundry?
Is that healthy?
The assignment and the laundry are both productive, but doing the laundry doesn’t bring in the money
Picture
lake days,
Shweta Shah
 

Mono

By Aida Guo
​Eyes - 
I have two
But people tell me i have less.
Why?
Well,
Apparently it doesn’t crease like other people’s.
When i follow tanya burr’s eyeliner tutorial
It never seems to work.
How come?
The eyeliner disappears.
What?
Mono lids.
Huh?
One lid per eye.
Ok?
That’s why people think im ugly.
What does that have to do with anything?
“All-American” girls like big eyes.
Monolids usually make them smaller.
Homecoming queens usually click on the first recommended video,
Their lashes curl up, stay close to each other,
That’s how we drew the princess’s eye in art class.
Mine don’t do that.
That sucks, I’m sorry.
No.
What?
It doesn’t suck,
It’s great, actually.
Oh?
It makes me beautiful.
Picture
reminisce,
Aida Guo
 

Strict Parent Things

By Milla Grabowski
Picture
Orca Mosaic,
Shweta Shah
The whole point of life 
Is that it ends.
So you have to live.
Find joy in the little things
Make everyday like it’s your last

I know that’s the point of all this
I’ve known from a young age

I want to blast my favorite music while skating towards the sunset
I want to dye my hair just to be able to laugh at it
I want to run to the gas station for my first slurpee and get a brain freeze
I want to bike ride in the wind forever, and not know where my wheels will take me

But, my mom said no.
Sorry, I’m not allowed to dance in the rain.
Sorry, I can’t hang out with you.

Sorry. 

​
 

t i m e

By Liane Ma
everyday the days seem to blur faster together; first walking, then jogging, then sprinting away as if the present is too scary to be around. 

set a routine they tell you, not so you can have something to quench the thirst of boredom but so there can be some semblance of what life used to be outside of this quarantine.

quar·an·tine
/ˈkwôrənˌtēn/
noun
  1. a state, period, or place of isolation in which people or animals that have arrived from elsewhere or been exposed to infectious or contagious disease are placed.
 
in this case it is all of the above, a state, period and place of isolation for ourselves that leads to a little bit of loneliness and a lot of deep reflection.

the seconds tick by and i am aware, but i don’t know what day the seconds are a part of. what’s the date? who knows?

scrapped schedules and half-used agendas lie in the corner of a room for many of us, our minds thinking about how we never got to use our planners to cover up confusion.

time flies by on horseback now. 

​
Picture
Laura Yang
 

Dances of War

By Jake Juliano
Picture
Night in the Clouds,
Sophia Landry
 
 

isn't it lonely?

By Aida Guo
Isn’t it lonely?
Watching the people pass by

As they sing 
As they cry
As they laugh 
And they die.

Isn’t it lonely?
Watching the birds sing their songs?
Hearing the trees just swaying along?
Isn’t it lonely?
Seeing the moon cuddling the stars?
Imagining the world from a place so far?
Isn’t it lonely?
Watching the people pass by?
Knowing the world will always be too shy?

Isn’t it lonely?


​
Picture
Holding on to the Galaxy,
​Sanjana Gupta
 

West Coast Waters

Avery Dille
Picture
 

later...

By Aida Guo
Picture
Daisy,
Isabella Hinz
 
I’ll text you later
I just have to take a three hour nap
By accident first
Then cry about it once i get up
Guiltily take a shower again to wake myself up
I’ll avoid my phone because i dont want to feel guilty
Then ill do some work
Not feel any better
Eat dinner grumpily with my mom,
Pretending i didn’t waste my day,
Come back upstairs to lie in bed,
Look at my phone,
Ill text ya later.

​
Picture
lately,
Aida Guo
 
Picture
Mama,
Sophia Landry
 
Picture
Good Morning,
Sophia Landry
 
Picture
Drama Llama,
Sophia Landry

she

By Aida Guo
The girl on the moon,
Sings the right tune,
When the night comes too soon
When i can only sleep at noon

She’ll watch me dance alone,
To the songs i’ve sewn
Onto my brain’s anxious tone


​
Picture
A Mother's Bond,
Jaya Nadella
 
 
Picture
Red Fish Blue Fish,
Sophia Landry
 

American Girl Doll Clothing

Carly Barello
The first two pictures of the gray Black Lives Matter sweatshirt showcases one of the five pieces I had worked on whose profits were donated to a charity called BEAM. BEAM is a charity whose proposed purpose is to address the stigma and barriers of healthcare among Black communities. The last two pictures, the ‘angelic’ top and of the black painted jeans, are made almost completely of second-hand material. I always try to source my fabric sustainably from old clothing or thrift stores before buying new material.
The sunflower jeans are made of some acid wash jean material I scavenged at the thrift store, and are another one of the many painted jeans I’ve worked on. In the left corner and the second picture of the middle row, are of one of my favorite tops I’ve ever made. If you look closely I incorporated eyelet fabric that has a dainty stitch and swirl; sourced from my favorite thrift store the Scrap Exchange. I’m obsessed with details, hence the tiny bow and addition of lace.
Cow print has certainly gained popularity recently and I personally love the print! The top row shows one of the pieces I’ve made with the print. Many of the skirts I make also have an added flair with the addition of a chain. Something that picked up popularity in my shop are these tennis skirts w/ the chain!
This last photo consists mostly of random projects I’ve found on my camera roll. The top left and second photo of the middle row show some of the masks I’ve made recently for both family and friends. The photo in the top right is of a huge custom order I had that I took many weeks to work on, but I’m absolutely happy with how everything had turned out. The left photo of the middle row is of a bit of colorful embroidery I did on my Kanken. The bottom left is one of my favorite recent projects: a bucket hat! I used a ton of my jean scraps, mostly from the thrift store, and a few from my dad’s old jeans, to create a unique multi-colored jean look. Finally, the last photo on the right bottom corner, is of a custom order for a cute little sweatshirt with a graphic of Sailor Jupiter, from Sailor Moon, on it.

Thoughts From Chaos

Picture
Green Level Literary Magazine
Summer 2020
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  • Silver Linings
  • A Chill in the Air
  • Past Editions
    • TFC I
    • TFC II
    • TFC III
    • TFC IV
    • FANN
    • BSU x Lit Mag
  • Print Editions
    • 2021-2022 Print
    • 2022-2023 Print
  • About
  • Submit
  • Interact