The ins and outs of reality shifting essentially sum up to this: reality shifting is the practice of meditative techniques to “transfer” one’s consciousness to another universe (or DR, signifying “Desired Reality”), which is usually “scripted” beforehand. These universes usually take place within popular fandoms, such as Harry Potter. You prepare for this in your CR (“Current Reality”), using methods of sleeping and scripting to manifest a shift. 

Scripting is a simple process, where you write down your desired appearance, personality, relationships, and what that universe may play out as. 

At this point, if you were me, you’d probably ask what happens to the other “reality you’s” consciousness, if you could eat while shifting, if you’re taking over their body – this has not been answered for me yet. 

SHIFTING, REALITY OR NAH?

Reality shifting is one of those phenomena that seem to cater specifically to one type of person: in this case, younger audiences, aged 15 through 25. This aligns almost perfectly with the TikTok demographic, although straying on the younger side.

Popularized in 2021, reality shifting is a method of transferring one’s consciousness to another universe (as is stated with the Multiverse Theory, although some shifters subscribe to a different train of thought) while sleeping. The Multiverse Theory argues that there is a vast multiverse and any reality a user can think of exists somewhere in the ‘verse – the trouble is finding the universe itself. The majority of shifters transport their consciousness to fictional universes, such as Harry Potter, Percy Jackson or various anime worlds. They aren’t spectators, but active participants, with carefully pre-meditated schedules as (usually) powerful self-insert characters. 

The allure of reality shifting is very simple, and its main catch is that it seems to be completely harmless. Prospective shifters can only shift while going to sleep, typically meditating and reviewing their script before manifesting (such as repeating “I will shift tonight” or something along those lines). Shifts can allegedly last anywhere from seconds to years, all in the span of a night or less. A practiced shifter may be a regular in more than one reality, bouncing back and forth with ease. 

Reality shifters market this as a safe, fun way to live out a life in which you can do magic, fly or be in a relationship with one of your favorite characters. Methods to help with shifting are sleeping in specific positions (ex: the starfish method, which is exactly as it sounds, splaying your limbs out across your bed to maximize surface area), affirmations and meditation beforehand. Many people also regularly try to “manifest” a shift, by repeating phrases before bed or throughout the day. 

Reality shifting isn’t inherently dangerous, that we know of. It is sold as a way to live your dream life, in reality, without any consequence. I, however, have some skepticism about the science of shifting itself. The human brain is incredibly complex, undoubtedly with abilities scientists have not yet been able to discover. However, while reality shifting isn’t necessarily harmful, it isn’t particularly harmless either. 

Many regular shifters entertain the idea of “permashifting,” the idea that you can permanently transfer your consciousness to another universe. In doing so, you will leave a clone of yourself behind, who will be a replica of you in every way but originality. The moral implications of this theory are very disturbing, if this is true. Would that clone then be considered to be a real person if they are just a replica of someone’s mind? Are they capable of rational thought, emotion, or love? If you decided to move back, would they be displaced from the body they had been forced into? 

This route of thinking leads me to another question: what happens to the consciousness of the character in the desired reality? For example, if you were to shift to a Harry Potter world in which you were Draco Malfoy—assuming that they are real people, and that their world is as legitimate as ours—would his subconscious be thrown out into the vastness of nothingness? Would Draco simply be killed? Would you be an imposter in his body, shifting in whenever you wanted? Would he be confused about his spells of amnesia, or worse yet—would he be aware of it, trapped as a prisoner within his own body, unable to move or speak freely? 

Worst of all: if you knew any of this was happening, would you consider it a drawback, rather than murder? Would you consider it to be a right to live in your desired reality, because you put the effort into trying to shift? Would you consider Draco’s consciousness to be lesser than your own?

On a different note, what about things that don’t exist in that universe? Would it be immoral to pen stories that don’t exist in your desired reality as your own, to write songs that were never sung, or to recreate art that was never drawn? Could they be argued to be yours anyways? For this question, I’m reminded of the 2019 movie “Yesterday,” in which a man gets thrown into a universe where the band “The Beatles” never existed. He recreates their famous songs, and becomes a rich musician, ultimately feeling unfulfilled in his wealth and glory. After all, if you’re taking credit for someone else’s work, how much praise and fame can you get before it feels like you’re just a thief?

Now, many shifters are adamant that shifting is a practice that takes time to develop the skills. Some prospective shifters try for months, if not years, to shift. Is this unethical to encourage those who just can’t seem to shift? Bribing them with a dream life, only to watch them suffer for years, likely bringing their own outlook on life down? After all, if you’re so prompted as to shift into another reality, you most likely don’t particularly enjoy all the aspects of your current one. 

Even though reality shifting may not have physical implications, it’s impossible to ignore the mental and emotional stressors shifting might lead to if it is real. The ethical dilemmas surrounding reality shifting mean that it will never be a completely safe practice, no matter how many different sleeping positions TikTokers swear worked for them. A downward spiral of mental health reflecting that “grass is always greener on the other side” mentality could prevent someone from finding the joys in the mundanity of normal life. 

ALTERNATIVE THEORY:

An interesting theory that many anti-shifters bring up is that “reality shifting” could just be lucid dreaming. It certainly seems to check the majority of the boxes—a realistic environment, complete control over your actions and the actions of other people, and the fact that it only happens during sleep or a meditative state.

Although lucid dreaming is not a catch-all when it comes to the theory of reality-shifting, it does seem more realistic than someone willing their consciousness into a world in which Harry Potter really does exist, and the shifter is a perfect being without any flaws. (This is just a generalization, most shifters do tend to make their personas more realistic.)

I myself have never tried to shift, and I don’t plan to. If another person from another universe infiltrates my mind and permashifts to this reality, I wish them luck. In my mentality, shifting is just another form of escapism, and for the most part, doesn’t seem to be that harmful. 

What is harmful, however, is the unrelenting advocacy for and the adamantly false science behind shifting, as we have not yet proved its existence. If or when the time comes when shifting is declared medically safe and ethical, rest assured that I will still be staying in this reality. I believe that in whatever case, I was born into this universe for a reason, and I will take reality as it comes, not as I write it. 

The post WHAT IS REALITY SHIFTING, ANYWAY? appeared first on Obsidian News | Oregon Youth Voices.

After seeing all of the “Karma” controversy, it must be so hard to be a child star. I say this as someone who tries to fly under the radar as much as possible, and who got their first job at 15—not 9—years old. 

I cringe when I hear about myself in middle school, and I can’t look at pictures of myself and my fashion choices (the side part was atrocious). To have your past remembered by millions of people, face plastered around the country, would be my personal nightmare. Every mistake would be televised, along with every relationship and private detail that would be best concealed; because you’re not a person anymore, but a concept. 

I never really understood why my mom loved looking back at my awkward old pictures until I found myself doing the same to celebrities I’d grown up with. It’s an icon you’ve grown up watching, hearing and talking about—and to see them change and grow up, as you have—is unmooring. Your childhood is officially gone, once they are, too. 

How she reacts to the online reception says everything about her as a musician and as a person, one who only very recently became an adult. Her aesthetic rebrand to knock-off Kiss and Miley Cyrus’ love child isn’t the only reason she’s being laughed at online; the controversy has stemmed from the fact that she lied about writing her song. That, in and of itself, is the most immature thing an artist can do: the equivalent of tracing Pinterest art in middle school and claiming it as your own. 

“Karma” was written by Rock Mafia and later performed by Brit Smith in 2012, after which Siwa bought the copyright. Covers and remixes are a respected, creative process if they’re given credit, and Siwa didn’t give any for a song that she barely changed from its original form. I was expecting something at least a little different since Siwa’s personality has always been loud (like her car, which is decorated with her own face.) Instead, it’s a mimicry of someone else’s style. It’s what you do in middle school trying to fit into a new friend group, and certainly not the move for someone who wants to establish herself as an independent, adult music artist.

Above all else, Jojo Siwa is an incredible businesswoman, and she clearly knows how to market herself. After all, her “Karma” music video has already reached 23 million views in less than two weeks since it was posted on YouTube. If her goal was to make money, it worked. If the goal was to establish herself as a different person, I’m not so sure she succeeded, no matter how much vulgarity she puts in her songs, how many girls she humps on a beach or how many tattoos she gets. As it stands now, her behavior hasn’t changed much from that little girl we saw on Dance Moms ten years ago.

The post The Jojo Siwa Complex appeared first on Obsidian News | Oregon Youth Voices.

When I moved here, it wasn’t all that big, and it wasn’t all so overwhelming to find parking. At the same time, there wasn’t super interesting cuisine, either. Five years of my life have most likely been devoted to sitting in various, identical breweries. Blindfold me and walk me into a brewery, and I wouldn’t be able to tell them apart until you walked me to the bathroom. I’m not sure how to think about Bend-that-was, because my old Bend was someone’s new Bend.

There’s this old thought experiment about the Ship of Theseus: after Theseus slayed the Minotaur and returned to Athens, his ship was kept in its pristine condition by replacing various planks once they’d rotten. In time, the ship was all replaced, bit by bit, so that it wouldn’t rot in the harbor. Everybody wanted to know if it was the same ship, even if it was made from different materials–even though Theseus had never touched the bow, even if it wasn’t the same planks that had carried him home. It still looked like the ship, and it still sat where the ship had sat.

It happened slowly, and I wasn’t angry about it. There was an influx of people, which led to some of the best friends I’ve ever had. In fact, I was a part of the earliest wave of newcomers. There were new restaurants, new stores, new roads, new neighborhoods. I loved some, hated more, and am currently harboring a personal vendetta against the boutiques that seem to pop up like unfortunate pimples. 

But at the same time, it was disorienting. I’d look around me in school assemblies and not recognize anyone. Going to familiar restaurants, I’d leave once I saw the crushing crowd of people waiting in line. Later, I would watch everyone in my neighborhood move out, selling their now-coveted homes for double the price. I’m sure the faithful who’ve lived here all their lives are experiencing an even greater shock. Nowadays, people who have lived here for generations are slowly watching their town turn into a major tourist destination. 

My last full year living here, and all I see when I go anywhere is the memory of my childhood home, like ghosts clouding my vision. It wasn’t all great, but at least we could go to the river in relative solitude. 

When I go grocery shopping, I still mess up and say “Food 4 Less” instead of its new name, which has already slipped my mind. Traffic detours are my nightmare, and new neighborhoods mess up my sense of direction. The land they were built on were places I took my dog out, away from the bustle of the street. 

My dog loved sniffing that tree, I would think, as I drove past construction workers chopping it down. We loved to walk under it.

I remember the small pockets of land that would end up getting bulldozed for more houses, more people, more boutiques. In my own personal act of spite, I enjoy letting my dog pee in their grass. 

It’s not their fault, but it’s mine for my inability to move on. Old Bend is dead, and maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe we’re just growing apart. When I move on, I’ll just shrug my shoulders whenever someone asks me what Bend is like. How should I know, anymore? And anyways, Theseus ended up getting crushed by the rotting planks of an old ship that wasn’t his, so I guess I shouldn’t think about it too hard.

The post Your Bend is Not My Bend appeared first on Obsidian News | Oregon Youth Voices.

Sometimes, my heart tells me to get work done but is ruthlessly ignored when I sit down and open TikTok. If I’m not scrolling, I’m making an entire Instagram post about horoscopes and spending hours formatting it on Canva. 

It is a debilitating, incessant need to do anything other than what I’m supposed to be doing. In fact, I’m doing it right now—instead of doing my college applications, which are due in two weeks, I’m writing a column on procrastination, the irony of which is not lost on me. 

Through my long years, I’ve finally concocted a few tricks that make sure I can get the majority of my work done on time. They’re not foolproof, but they’re some of the only methods that work for me, no matter how many self—help websites I read. 

1. Find a good place to work.

Personally, if I step a foot inside my room, you can rest assured that I won’t do anything I have to. My favorite places to do work are the ones where you’re peer pressured into it: the library at school, a quiet spot away from the chaos of the newsroom, or my dining room, where I can see my Dad in his office. 

Shutting myself in a completely quiet space has never helped me. I get bored easily and will get distracted by whatever is around me. Having somewhere moderately quiet like the library–where more often than not, there’s a few students chatting softly or light music in the background–I can really focus. It makes me feel like I’m a part of a conversation while also being productive. The bonus to the library is that all of my textbooks are usually there, which makes studying extremely helpful; I tend not to cart around my textbooks from home, since they’re usually around 10 pounds each (not an exaggeration.)

Being in an academic setting, like my dining room, is also really helpful for my mental focus. Seeing my dad working helps me to remember to stay on task, however, the library is more helpful in that aspect. After all, I want to look like I’m doing something in the library: what if someone from the yearbook takes a candid shot of me studying?

2. Try not to work while hungry.

This one I hear a lot, and it’s definitely true. When I’m hungry, I’m constantly distracted and scrolling through videos of people making food or texting my friends to see if they have any snacks. Unless you absolutely can’t eat, you should always try to have a granola bar on hand, at the very least. 

When I was a junior I had a locker where I would store my snacks (even though I wasn’t supposed to) and I could grab whatever I wanted at will. It was super helpful when I was in a bad mood for no reason (was hungry) or when I was easily distracted (was hungry). However, make sure to keep this stash a SECRET – my stash was depleted tenfold as soon as I revealed the location of the locker to my friends. No matter how much you love them, keep your emergency food a secret – give them snacks if they ask, but never tell them where you got them from. 

3. Take notes that you enjoy looking back at

One of the biggest struggles I had when studying for my AP tests was forcing myself to look back through my notes. They were all one big chunk of text, some of which I had no idea how to think about. 

I’m a visual learner, so now I like to take notes in drawings as well as writing – especially for complex subjects like psychology, which has a lot of terms, drawing bad comics can both be memorable and fun. 

If you don’t like to draw, think about what you DO like to read: maybe you like to listen to podcasts, so record yourself synthesizing a unit with fun sound effects. Or maybe you’re an aesthetic note—taker and your notes in class are always too rushed to make pretty – rewrite them as nicely as you want to! 

Finding what you consider to be engaging is a super helpful tool for any subject, no matter how boring. When I was rushing, I would slap a few stickers on my notes and write around them, trying to incorporate puns out of whatever I was learning. It’s up to you, but for review, having something you enjoy looking at will make all the difference. 

4. Set strict time limits on your social media

This tip is the most contentious, and the hardest to follow. I had to set time limits on Instagram and TikTok because I would rack up hours on it a day, often leaving my projects and homework unfinished. I would take a break from scrolling and not even remember what I had just watched. My days were a blank void and I was exhausted from being pulled through that same cycle over and over again.

I asked someone I trusted to set a time limit passcode for me, and they wrote it down in case I needed to access it in the future. I did the same for them. I started with a moderate amount of time for each social media, but gradually whittled it away to what I could stand – 15 minutes a day. On Sundays, I give myself an unlimited amount of time, however, because I usually finish all of my homework before then, and it’s a rest day for me. 

Although it’s a tough habit to break, especially when your fingers automatically go to the spot where your social media lives, I ended up downloading a vaguely more productive app (Duolingo) that helped me curb my need to scroll. And because this is not an ad for Duolingo, I also enjoy reading library books on my phone and playing mindless Crossy Road games. 

When I’m barred from scrolling, I end up getting grumpy, but I eventually get my work done, so this tip (unfortunately) worked for me against my will.

5. Watch motivational videos

If all else fails, this one always gets me going. I’m not talking about the fake motivational videos, where the person gets up at five and goes for a marathon – no, I’m talking about the college student that takes a video of them studying, or going through their day—to—day activities in a realistic way. It’s important to remember that everyone has trouble motivating themselves, but if you see how others do, you might just be able to guilt—trip yourself into it too. 

That being said, it always helps me when I take a video of myself (a timelapse, usually) so that I can also pretend to be an influencer – yet another way to guilt trip the masses into thinking you’re productive, effortlessly. 

If you’re reading this article, chances are that you’re a bit tired of not being able to do your work on time. Maybe external or internal factors are preventing this, but it’s important to remember that trying is the best first step, and sometimes, can make a world of difference. 

The post How To Stop Procrastinating appeared first on Obsidian News | Oregon Youth Voices.

Essentially: I was not a big fan of horror. Recently, though, I’ve been getting into beginner horror. They’re definitely not the scariest horror films out there, but “Barbarian” and “Us” were the perfect mix of underlying societal commentary and some good old ‘what the [Jody won’t let me say this]’ did I just watch?” Along with more contemporary movies, I’ve also been dabbling with some classic slasher films: “Friday the 13th,” “Scream” and “Halloween” being some of my favorites.

Horror movies, to me, exist for one purpose and one purpose only: to get you thinking about something. For the connoisseurs of the genre, I completely understand wanting media of substance; but that isn’t me, most of the time. If I wanted something to really think about, I’d watch a documentary about monkeys or something. I find myself proven wrong, however, when I watch a scary movie and internalize a made-up message all on my own–in that pretentious way column writers so love to do.

The genre exists as a vessel to wake the viewer up–a slap in the face during a life of long, often monotonous work. And for those who really pay attention, there can be a hidden message, like playing a song backward and hearing “satan eats cheez whiz.” My point is that horror movies can have whatever message the viewer deems important, and there can be an endless amount of interpretations that stem from someone trying to make sense of what they’ve watched. 

For more experienced viewers, it can also just be a fun time. Some people just like to get the shit scared out of them, I suppose. But I think horror serves a greater purpose, as all psychology students have a fondness for saying. The movies are a vessel to warn the viewer about something—a grotesque example of what not to do in a situation. Sometimes, this warning can be societal: for example, many critics much smarter than I am have made the connection between class divide and “human clones living in tunnels underground” in Jordan Peele’s “Us.” 

You could apply this logic to just about anything–in “Barbarian,” there’s a not-so-subtle commentary on the culture surrounding sexual assault through a naked incest baby living under a Detroit Airbnb. “Get Out,” another one of my favorite Jordan Peele movies, presents its message on the nose rather than in weird, disturbing alien allegories, addressing the struggles in an interracial relationship and “meeting the parents.” 

Even one of my favorite poser horrors of all time, “Llamageddon,” one hour and nine minutes of pure, unadulterated insanity, teaches me a lesson. To not let an alien llama bite you so that you don’t deliver its baby in a pile of green sludge? Possibly. But also to stick up for the people you love, or otherwise save yourself quickly (aka don’t linger on saying goodbye). There are incredible films, and there are terrible ones, but they all force the audience to look deeper than what’s on screen, the innate and singular duty of a horror movie. 

These films are all disturbing, terrifying and oftentimes make you sit and regret watching them for a period of time in the middle. I’m new to the horror genre, and yet I find myself drawn to it more and more—away from the sappy Christmas-themed rom-coms I guiltily catalog in the winter, and the action movies I now seem to find shallow. Horror is not perfect, as the endless amounts of “Saw” lore can demonstrate, but it’s one of the mediums I find most enthralling now. Films like “Hereditary” and “Midsommar” are placed on streaming services next to “Killer Sofa,” “VelociPastor” and the fourth “Jaws.” There’s an endless amount of content to watch, and if you look hard enough, you just might find the beauty in every horror movie, no matter how low-budget it may seem.

The post My Pretentious Deep Dive Into The Horror Genre appeared first on Obsidian News | Oregon Youth Voices.

“Bend has a huge animal community,” said Ferguson. Nestled in her arms is a black kitten with white markings named Vinny. “Everyone has a dog, taking them out everywhere. I thought there had to be a cat community too, with this many animal lovers in one place.”

Partnered with Cascade Canine Rescue East and West and the Humane Society of Central Oregon, Playful Paws is already down to five cats, as one had been adopted within the first two weeks of opening. However, there’s already three more cats being moved into the cafe, which brings the number of cats up to seven. 

“We have some great rescue partners here that, I figured, could use a little help getting the cats out of shelters and fosters,” said Ferguson. “[To find] a space for some harder-to-place cats that need a little more room to relax and be themselves. And honestly, I just thought it would be fun!”

So far, Playful Paws offers pre-packaged snacks and drinks in order to abide by the City of Bend’s permits. Though this doesn’t take away from the experience, “if someone is jonesing for a cup of coffee, they’re welcome to get it and bring it in here.”

In the future, Ferguson says, they’re interested in providing beer to be bought and sold in packs of six and individually. 

“It’s a good place for people to come and hang out. It’s definitely cheaper than therapy to hold a cat for an hour,” said Ferguson. “But yeah, that’s the goal — to bring people and cats together, increase adoptions — and just to have a good time.”

The post Playful Paws, Now Open appeared first on Obsidian News | Oregon Youth Voices.

We’ve come to a point in our culture where we’re scared to move on. I talk about this broadly, because it can be applicable to just about anything we’ve been screaming about lately – fashion trends, news or popular media. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing, either. Nostalgia keeps our memories fond, enables us to learn lessons from hard times, and inspires us to be creative in the future.

As the various graduation days for Central Oregon students creep up, many people have found themselves facing a similar dilemma: they’re blaming COVID-19 for the fear of leaving the nest, an explanation for a problem generations before us have faced. And while this isn’t applicable to every student – obviously, most graduates are ready to get their diplomas and ditch for the last time – it does seem to be a popular fear amongst our departing 2023 class. I know almost no one will openly admit this, but the idea of leaving security, your friends, your town, can be an exhilarating yet terrifying prospect. 

Much of the blame can be placed on the missed school due to COVID-19, from which our graduating class lost their freshman and sophomore year. But the COVID-19 pandemic isn’t a valid excuse anymore — instead, it’s a crutch to blame failure on, and a false explanation for perfectly valid feelings. These fears are normal, but should not be accepted without question. 

The class of 2034 will be the first to graduate without ever having known schooling before the pandemic. Societal expectations change with our times, and districts have adapted remarkably to online school, despite the challenges. 

But nowadays, the excuses, instead of being mostly about potential breakups and undecided majors, are lamenting a lack of knowledge and preparedness for life beyond high school. These are valid fears and concerns, but this shouldn’t hold you back from wanting to achieve in the future. COVID-19 isn’t the enemy—it is the fear that everyone goes through graduating high school.  

COVID-19 seems like a great way to foster insecurities: “I missed out on freshman year!” or “I’m stuck in 2019,” are phrases I often hear thrown around. 

I interpret this to mean, “I’m going to blame any failure experienced in my future on missing two years because of the pandemic.” But honestly, what did we do in freshman year? Whine and complain about two homework assignments a week? (Just kidding. I love you, freshmen. Please invest in some deodorant.)

Online school was a traumatic switch, for both students and teachers. No doubt, the pandemic’s effects will reverberate throughout our generation and those to come, and we will continue to see the effects on our children and our policies. Even though our world is changing, our excitement for the future should not! It is your ability to persevere, your ability to succeed and your passion that will bring forward the future you want for yourself. COVID-19 can’t hold you back anymore. And if you have the tools to do so, by all means, go ahead and grab your future. (Which all of you do.)

The pandemic does not have to define us as a “lost generation.” No matter the circumstances, those who have motivation will succeed. Leaving the nest is a rite of passage, one which should not be feared as much as it is right now. 

One of the most dependable places we can look to for advice is history. After the divisive 2016 Presidential election, we blamed many of our problems on our government, under new management. When Barack Obama left the White House for the final time in 2016, his speech addressed the American people – some ready, some not – calling for a peaceful transfer of power for the President-elect Donald Trump. In his speech, he asked his audience to take a chance, to embrace and shape the American spirit that so many of us argue over today.

“I’m asking you to believe,” Obama said. “Not in my ability to bring about change – but in yours.”

His words ring true, not just for politics, but for a monumental step in one’s life. Don’t be afraid to take a chance, like so many have before you. COVID-19 does not define your future, but let it shape you and encourage you to harness your potential. You have the chance to make your own future. Why not dive head first?

The post It’s Time To Stop Blaming Covid appeared first on Obsidian News | Oregon Youth Voices.

Even if you can afford it, veganism is a daunting task. Myself, and my family included, are hardcore omnivores–vegans are a common butt of jokes. It’s easy to be scared of plant-based food. It’s easy to laugh and joke and gag. However, I pride myself on being able to try new experiences. That’s why, for one whole week, I became vegan so that I could truly facilitate a cruelty-free lifestyle, and put my money where my mouth is.

And I decided to write about it. To get attention.

MY GOALS: 

• Spend one week as a strict vegan
• Try an Impossible beef patty and tofu for the first time
• Fend off the #haters
• Say yes to everything

DAY ONE:

Food: Smoothie with oat milk and mixed berries, pesto cavatappi salad and chana masala with pita bread

My first day of veganism was remarkably smooth. Although I’m sure my cravings/temperament will increase in desperation as the week goes along, I’m satisfied for now. I could go for a bagel with cream cheese, but that’s pretty typical for me every day. However, the biggest depression came from my friend’s mention of the carnitas sandwich from Spork, which is one of my obsessions. I wasn’t too broken up about it though—I wouldn’t have been able to get it today anyway. 

I was initially worried about being hungry during the week—and pretty much thought I would only get to eat rabbit food. I was dreading my essential week-long famine, as I am a fierce salad hater. However, I’ve been remarkably satisfied! (This is mostly due to the fact that my mom is helping me cook almost all of these meals. I’m going to get her a card or chocolates or something, after Vegan Week, of course.) 

Most of what is bothering me is the fact that I have to filter everything I eat—I have a bad tendency to accept food from strangers no matter what it is, so I almost slipped up and accepted chocolate milk during lunch. It’s only because Capri-Suns are vegan that I didn’t immediately fail my challenge on the first day. It’s surprisingly difficult to find answers on what’s considered vegan! Everything is “up for debate,” although I feel that going down that rabbit hole will eventually lead to everything being considered not to be a “vegan product.”

Stuff That’s Not Vegan: my chapstick (Burt’s Bees, has beeswax!), Special K Red Berry cereal 

Stuff That IS Vegan: Capri-Suns, 5 gum, Trader Joe’s Pretzel Slims 

I am looking forward to the climax of my week-long vegan life: the infamous Impossible Beef patty. In “Julie and Julia,” Julie dreads deboning a duck as one of her last recipes to try from Julia Child’s cookbook, “Mastering the Art of French Cooking.” In the movie, Julie finds it remarkably easier than expected, and ends her year-long challenge on a high note. I can only hope it’s the same sort of experience for myself.

DAY TWO:

Food: Black bean burgers with mushroom, added on “Bitchin’ sauce” and some salsa, pearl couscous w/ vegan pesto and vegetables — great. I ate the cavatappi salad for lunch again, and it was even better than last time. 

Today my hardest challenge was saying no to cookies. Chocolate and macadamia nuts — one of my absolute favorites. Hurt my heart. My friends put it on my leg. I couldn’t even look at it. My willpower will remain strong! I am dedicated and steadfast, and I will not fail this challenge voluntarily.

If I wasn’t completely sure that my TikTok for-you page was stealing my data and listening to my conversations, I am now. 

For the sole reason that I didn’t want to get recommended various amounts of vegan meal recipes after Vegan Week is over, I got all of my recipes off of different devices that have no connection to my personal ones—and yet, today, I was recommended about four vegan meal ideas in the morning alone! 

I am suspicious, but some of it looks really good. However, whoever’s listening to my conversations is also a jerk, because they keep recommending meals that are definitively not vegan. My willpower is draining from me faster than a toilet being used for the first time.

Stuff that is not vegan: macadamia and chocolate chip cookies, chocolate milk

Stuff that is vegan: earthwise orange juice, tater tots

Note to self: Buy more Bitchin’ sauce.

DAY THREE:

Food: Leftover pearl couscous, vegan snacks (fig bar, grape, orange) — I didn’t have time to make a decent lunch, so it was whatever I could find. Had a bagel with fake butter — which, if I’m being honest, I wouldn’t have been able to tell the difference taste-wise, but the smell alone put me off. I find myself curiously surprised and delighted by this fake plant-butter.

I decided before this challenge that it would be super lame to fail Vegan Week within the first three days. Now that I’m officially over the benchmark, I feel accomplished. 

My biggest challenge, it seems, has not been avoiding animal products–although staying away from my Doc Martens and my chapstick has been difficult, the worst part of Vegan Week has been the reactions of the people I’ve told. People think it’s hilarious to shove their animal-product based food in my face–it gets funnier every time. 

Things that are not vegan: Garlic bread, cocoa puff cereal, chicken tenders

Things that are MOSTLY not vegan: Sun Chips, Dutch Bros drinks

Things that are vegan: water.

Maybe I should just lean in hard to the vegan-aesthetic and start watching My Vegan Teacher…donate to PETA. Attack people on Instagram. This week is going to be so long.

DAY FOUR:

Food: Sandwich, plant-based chocolate yogurt, roasted cauliflower soup and frozen grapes

Today was a day of experimental eating — halfway through my Vegan Week, today was when I tried Silk’s plant-based chocolate yogurt. I’ve never had a plant-based yogurt, but it was so good. I was so nervous — it was watery and clumpy, but when I mixed it, it tasted, honestly, better than regular yogurt. I had some tots and some other vegan snacks to go along with it. I would easily eat this again, even when I’m not vegan. 

My wonderful, amazing mother made me a sandwich with hummus, olives, tomato, avocado and MICROGREENS?! It was easily one of the best sandwiches I’ve ever had in my life. I also had some of those frozen grapes that have been making the rounds on social media–which were sour, but strangely good! 

Even my best friend, Ellis, a self-proclaimed vegan hater and longtime skeptic of veganism, tried some of my sandwich and my vegan yogurt, and was astounded. I thought I’d be missing meat more, but strangely, I’ve been pretty okay without it. The hardest parts about this week are when people offer me junk food. Access to croutons with parmesan was tempting… I was very enticed to eat one of those. I persevered, though! My honor code had to be adhered to.

Things That Are Vegan: frozen grapes, microgreens, some types of bread

Things That Are Not Vegan: croutons, gummy worms

DAY FIVE:

Food: Chai with oat milk foam, Impossible Beef bowl

Today was the day. My deboning-a-duck with Julia Child guiding me on the TV. My magnum opus of tolerance and open-mindedness: the Impossible Beef patty.

When we went to Food 4 Less to prepare for Vegan Week, the Impossible Beef patty stuck out to me in a way that I figured only happens when you fall in love in a rom-com. I had gotten recommended dozens of videos on my TikTok For You page with the Impossible Beef Patty as the star player.

I wouldn’t have been able to tell it wasn’t real beef, but the texture was ever so slightly off. If I was blindfolded and asked to eat both, I probably would’ve said they were the same. It’s honestly slightly terrifying that plant-based food can be so accurate, even with the slightest differences.

I had homemade chai—which was good! I miss cow milk, although I hate to admit it.

My duck has been deboned. My mind has been expanded. Today, I am truly a vegan.

Things That Are Vegan: Impossible Beef

Things That Are Not Vegan: Cow beef, ice cream

DAY SIX:

Food: Fried tofu, asparagus and rice

I’m almost there. I’m almost there. I’m almost there. 

Day SEVEN: 

Food: Tofu tacos, fried tofu, vegetables and rice

It’s the last day. So far it’s been fairly easy to restrain myself from dairy and meat–but today has been hard, since I’m so close to finishing Vegan Week. 

Everyone’s mostly used to the fact that I’m vegan now–no more questions, or prodding. In fact, they’ve been surprisingly accommodating when it comes to my food restrictions, now giving me plenty of warning when something has an animal product in it. This is extraordinarily bad timing, seeing as it’s my final day of veganism. 

Today, I’ve been seeing things with rose-colored glasses: My vegan yogurt tastes better. My tofu tastes less bland. Veganism is finally not a goal, but a lifestyle.

Things That Are Not Vegan:

Things That Are Vegan: some pastas, tomatoes, tofu, tortillas and mushrooms

The Day After:

My first non-vegan meal actually didn’t come until lunch, when I had chocolate milk, and pizza. I stayed up late making brownies, and celebrated my re-emergence into the omnivore world with Ghirardelli’s walnut double-chocolate brownies.

Post-Vegan Week was strangely mournful. Although I was excited to eat cheese and meat again, I kind of liked having new meals to try, and overall, I felt much healthier eating a sufficient amount of vegetables every day. 

At the beginning of Vegan Week, I thought tofu and Impossible Beef were morally unjust to the goodwill of Earth. Now, I find myself missing the creative freedom soy products had to offer me.

I wouldn’t say that Impossible Beef or super-firm tofu were necessarily life-changing–however, they did offer me the chance to be more open minded about my animal-product consumption. Cows are one of the leading causes of global warming, and unsustainable farming can be countered with programs like Meatless Monday, and other partial vegan programs. 

Don’t get me wrong–soy isn’t necessarily good for you, and a lot of vegan alternatives are pricey in comparison to easier, meat-based products. When my budget allows in the future, I think I’ll be more excited to try vegan products, if not because of my Vegan Week recipes, because of my newfound appreciation for vegan culture. 

Lessons Learned During Vegan Week:

1. Vegan yogurt is actually really good.
2. Impossible Beef is not that indistinguishable from real beef.
3. Vegan Week made me feel a lot healthier with what I was eating.
4. If you spend a long enough time eating tofu, it starts to taste like insanity. 
5. Veganism actually isn’t that restrictive. There are a ton of great alternatives to popular dairy products, like butter!
6. Vegans aren’t THAT obnoxious.

The post I Became Vegan for a Week, NOT CLICKBAIT appeared first on Obsidian News | Oregon Youth Voices.

Valentine’s day! A day of romance. A happy day… for some. Happy couples post videos of their partners, what they love about them, how they got together, their favorite pictures of each other. Although undoubtedly cringey, they’re cute.

“Going to see if my toaster works in the bathtub!” says a TikTok commenter. They are depressed. They are lonely. They… do not have a valentine. If this is you, read closely.

Comments like this are not uncommon online. For some reason, the anonymity of a faceless profile gives people the courage to say out-of-pocket things they probably shouldn’t. “Going to sleep on the train tracks tonight,” “The highway is lookin like a really comfy bed,” “Me and who?”

And, the crowning glory: “Break up.”

Ultimately, these comments aren’t harmful so much as they are annoying — if someone wants to post something about their relationship, there isn’t a corner of the internet they can go to that won’t be attacked by the vultures referred to as the “singles population.” Unfortunately, these comments stop being funny the moment you see them more than three times.

At some point, it’s bordering on weird. Unfortunately, not everyone is lucky enough to be in a relationship at any given point in time, but that’s not a reason to bombard those who do with repetitive, uncreative comments. (If you’re going to comment, at least make it interesting. “Going to get more personal with carbon monoxide!” is my personal suggestion.)

Let people be happy. Let them post their pictures and their videos and their cringe-fail content. Why not, right? If you die from electrocution in the bathtub, no one would know, especially not the people on TikTok. Certainly not that Tinder match you’re nervous about.

Put that toaster to work. Make a bagel. Put yourself out there. Instead of commenting, hit on that person at the bookstore. It’ll do you more good than overusing the crying emoji.

The post Valentine’s Day, a Villainous Origin appeared first on Obsidian News | Oregon Youth Voices.

These edits stitch random clips from movies, TV shows, TikToks, news, lyrics from songs, pictures from history, paintings, nature documentaries and “Family Guy”: creating a Frankenstein video to evoke an emotional response in the viewer. Like a pulled-apart burrito, edits unfold in a way most pleasing to the eye, and to the editor—without restriction or formula. Many of the other “core” sides of TikTok, such as cottagecore, businesscore and weird core, have specific rules and aesthetics to their audience. However, corecore has a unique, contradictory theme—chaos. 

Documentary footage spliced with clips from Kung Fu Panda: “Today is a gift. That is why it is called a present.” Another video uses the story “The Egg” by Andy Weir, adapted to millions on YouTube by Kurzgesagt: “I created you to mature.” “The Egg” is a story representing the idea that all of humanity is reincarnations—time and death are not real, as every living person that ever was or will be is a singular soul, growing and learning with each life. Directly after this is catboy Walter White from “Breaking Bad.”

These edits are humorous and depressing and alarmingly self-aware. Themes from these videos range from media addiction and global warming, to space and the pleasure of music, unique and weird and completely different. A clip from stop-motion movie “Fantastic Mr. Fox” is cut in with footage of a murmuration flying above the treeline.

“I know what it’s like to feel different,” says Mrs. Fox. She wiggles her hands in between the last two words, hesitating. Her son stares.

“But I’m not different, am I?” 

The beauty of corecore is the asylum of complete subjectivity it provides to its audience. It is the most personalized form of art on TikTok, as every person watching an edit takes their own meaning away from the same video. Or maybe, it’s completely random.

It’s not without backlash, however. TikTok user littlefreak26 made a video that has over 1.6 million views about the trend. This video addressed the problems that corecore contains, namely the lack of meaning behind it. While corecore prides itself on being a turducken existential crisis, littlefreak26 and other users argue that it has no value, and only serves to give an excuse for complacency in its viewers. 

This idea isn’t new—social media consumption is speculated to be the leading cause of depression online, due to the increasing amount of information circulating the internet. A 2019 study from the National Library of Medicine linked depression in university students to excessive social media usage, a phenomenon that is growing in the digital age. 

Corecore, however absurdist it may seem, is a source of comfort for many isolated teens who are battling the onslaught of media in today’s tech-dominated world. Growing up with unlimited online access is difficult–why not reflect on it?

The post Talks in the Corecore Corner appeared first on Obsidian News | Oregon Youth Voices.