AZAlyssa Zhang

1. Article · Aug 4, 2026 · Alyssa Zhang | Senior Staff

   My situationship and I asked a psychic if it would work (opens the original)

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   “The ‘quit while we’re ahead’ button is always there. If our futures are at odds, would starting something be stupid?” We passed a food truck, its light blinding me. Behind its fumes and a long line of New Yorkers, there she sat — alone, sucking on a vape, a plastic sign propped in front of her: “$10 PALM READINGS. UNLOCK YOUR FUTURE.” He turned to me with a boyish grin. “Should we ask her?” “About our love life? Let her press the button?” I responded, laughing. I’ve ne

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2. Article · Jul 28, 2026 · Alyssa Zhang | Senior Staff

   If nothing is private, nothing is sacred (opens the original)

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   This time last year, I lazily joked with a summer fling, the parking lot sky a pink hue: “My writing has no separation from my life. It is everything I am, everything I want and everything I do. The people I love have always made it into my essays, one way or another.” “And what if I told you I didn’t want you to write about me? What then?” He asked, mischievous in his line of questioning, searching for another way to push my buttons. “Then I’d tell you that it’s an interference

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3. Article · Jul 14, 2026 · Alyssa Zhang | Senior Staff

   Ozempic made me question everything I believed about hunger (opens the original)

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   Content warning: Discussion of disordered eating and body dysmorphia Last night, I laid in bed as the clock crept past 2 a.m., tracing the skin on my waist, attempting to calm my grumbling stomach. I pressed my fingertips into my abdomen, inhaling as I dug my nails deeper into my organs, envisioning what it would be like to pierce all the way through. My ribs would collapse as I broke them one by one, popping in my palms. Once I finished, I would engulf my hands in my intestines, flexing inside

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4. Article · Jul 7, 2026 · Alyssa Zhang | Senior Staff

   Build me an empire and love me all the way down (opens the original)

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   “Holy s---. There are people up there.” My co-interns and I looked up, shielding our eyes as we watched the tiny silhouettes of a couple atop the spire of the Empire State Building. The bodies of the climbers, black ants in the sky, scaled further up as they unraveled their banner, which read, “When the power of love beats the love of power the world knows peace.” Through the rest of my workday, I couldn’t keep my mind from wandering. I quietly monitored the news as the story unfolded,

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