This will be my last semester as President of BrainScramble Magazine. Even as a writer, I come up empty, time and time again, attempting to translate this feeling into words. I remember my sweat-slicked hands as I hit “publish” for the first time, sixteen and scared, but the eager beat of my heart rich with possibility. I can still feel the pressing weight of the world on my shoulders with every issue we launch, our ambition shaking my breath, the wish to be great stronger than the urge to be shattered. Even when it is hard, even when we are tired, I am sure of one thing. BrainScramble has been more than my first crush: it has been my first love. I hope it has been one of yours, too.
Author: Alyssa Zhang
I thought about that night on his living room floor, crouched around the chessboard. His eyes flicked from the board to mine, his chain dangling over the marble. “Think about that one again,” he said, motioning to my latest move. It was our third game, after I had begged him to play me again. I smiled under my breath, moving the piece back into safety. “Stop helping me. I’m your opponent.” I teased.
Xoxo510 reminded us that movements don’t start with spotlights.
Edited by Alloe Mak, Oliver Francis Baker, and Annika Budhwani When I began to love her, I folded […]
Even as a writer, there is not a word in the English alphabet to describe the pride I feel for BrainScramble.
“You can’t keep doing this,” she inhaled, her breath shaking. “You’re going to die doing this, do you understand?”
ThriftyCat is more than just a thrift store—it’s a testament to resilience, community, and the power of accessible fashion.
I have a choice: I can let it rot, or I can face it.
This is me facing it.
She took me by surprise as she said hello. The cafe she had picked was small. Busy. Her hair was short and black, cut right above her shoulders.
“You want me to try? I can’t try for something I don’t believe in. It is this kind of Western world that has ruined you. You are so pretty, baobei, smart, too. You’re just sick. If I raised you in China, this wouldn’t have happened to you,”
On December 13th, 2023, I embarked on a deep dive into my Instagram archives. I scrolled through countless […]
It was selfish, my assumption that everything would stay right where I left it. There is nothing that can take the last 18 years from me. But I have to loosen my grip. I have to let home change. I have to carry it with me.
The pre-college breakup of high school sweethearts almost seems like a rite of passage. But that doesn’t mean it hurts any less.
Now, when I think of my dad, I don’t really think of the horseback rider, or pilot, or King of China. I just think of these things. Things that make him human. Things I really love.
As I sit on this bench and watch the cars pass, I am suddenly no longer a myth, a legend, a king rolling a rock up a hill. I am a girl packing her life into cardboard boxes in anticipation of leaving everything she’s ever known behind.
When baba cooks, he always slices the fatty parts off of the meat
When my older sister was born, she had a condition called neonatal jaundice. She came out with a […]
Author’s Note: this is possibly the most vulnerable thing I have ever written on the internet, and I think that’s saying a lot—especially for me. My near-death experiences, relationship drama, and connection with my culture have all been aired for the public to see. But this, this feels scarier. This feels different.