Religious Art
Nobody inspected the dangling Marias… None fretted for the 40 different infant Jesuses, threatening to tumble with the mama to the floor.
Devilish Coffee, Flipbooks and Navy Romances: Three Takes on BUCHBERLIN’s Literary Marvels
FFMag descended upon BUCHBERLIN this year and shares with you our highlights from Germany’s third-largest literary event.
“Hold me in a dim-lit world”: How Dayseeker’s DARK SUN (2022) became my refuge from grief
By the time November unfolded, with the bleak winds of my own recent heartbreak echoing through the digital void in the form of emo tweets, one solitary track from Dayseeker’s …

Fleisch & Fragmente IV: Das Ohr
Unsere Autorin denkt über den menschlichen Körper nach. Das geht am besten Stück für Stück. Dieses Mal gedacht wird: ein Ohr, das Ohr, die Ohren. Es geht ums Hören und …
“This Loneliness Won’t Be the Death of Me”: 10 Being as an Ocean Songs for Our Achy Hearts
“This Loneliness Won’t Be the Death of Me,” a song on Being as an Ocean’s record Dear G‑d, finds me unprepared on the bus one night, as I drive through …
An Oral History of Daisy the Great
FFMag recently sat down for an interview with Daisy the Great. Our conversation ranged from their thespian origins to pandemic-era success and growing pains.

Friendship, Reconciliation and Metal Madness: Berlin’s 2023 Peacecorefest at SO36 is a testament to the scene’s core ideals
Peacecorefest emerges as a groundbreaking pioneer project that is a testament to the scene’s beauty when it wholeheartedly embodies its core principles.
The Stuff of Life to Knit Me
Allen Ginsberg once said of Neal Cassady that he was the art. It is my opinion that Allen Ginsberg did not quite understand what art is.
10 Bon Iver Songs, die uns vom Herbst und der Liebe träumen lassen
Bon Iver verschmilzt Post-Rock mit klassischer Singer-Songwriter Nostalgia und ist weitaus mehr als „Skinny Love“ oder „Holocene“. Unsere Autorin stellt zehn Bon Iver Songs vor, die tief unter die Haut …
FICTION
Religious Art
Nobody inspected the dangling Marias… None fretted for the 40 different infant Jesuses, threatening to tumble with the mama to the floor.
The Stuff of Life to Knit Me
Allen Ginsberg once said of Neal Cassady that he was the art. It is my opinion that Allen Ginsberg did not quite understand what art is.
the sea you had become
See, there’s this thing about you—you were like this tiny droplet on a day of withering heat. When the days became indistinguishable from one another, filled with the absence of love, scorching summer suns blazed over my life like they had a personal vendetta against the ground beneath my feet. In the heat, just a single drop of water, fleeting and brief, felt like the downpour of the ocean itself.
A M N E S I A VII—IX
“There is an uneasy silence in the pod racing toward sector 22. Onyx and I sit silently next to each other while the southern and eastern peripheries rush past us. Every now and then I notice his eyes on me. Suddenly, I am a glass house and he can see right through me, into the hollows and the attic of my presence, reaching beyond my map of myself. Or perhaps I just want him to.”
A M N E S I A IV—VI
I see flashes of her face in front of me, big, dazing green eyes and skin covered in debris of pain. “I see only darkness, displaced in me instead of the night.” She’s my God. She knows of our beginnings and our aberration. She killed herself so I could live. I might as well try.
Death of a Sun—A Poetry Selection
“But the rain.” She looks at me, suddenly reliving the flames.
Zusammengelegte Kleidung
“Diese Zeiten machen mir Angst. Weil sie unerreichbar scheinen. Weil meine Zeiten in alle Richtungen zerfließen. Ich versuche mich wieder einzuordnen ins System. Ins Leben.”
The Entropic Lighter
“Now, the fire can come back at any time, and it will not be as traumatizing as it was before; flames will be nothing but old lovers welcomed back into a house haunted by their absence. His therapist herself said it: meaning can be found in chaos. It is, after all, nicer to see the glass half-empty than to admit that there is no glass anymore.”
A M N E S I A I—III
I had spent my life wondering whether broken love could be mended when I saw my parents drift apart, from secret dances in the moonlit kitchen to becoming strangers, violently and abruptly fighting for divorce. Like a glued-up vase. I refused to see it then, but a fractured vase still exposes its porcelain fragility even after it has been reassembled. Even with the finest glue and the hands of a ceramist, it reveals the truth in the cracks between the pieces.
Snkllr
“Part of me knew it was impossible to come close. Just this one time I wish I didn’t need the fire because the sky is dark around me already.”

“Now, the fire can come back at any time, and it will not be as traumatizing as it was before; flames will be nothing but old lovers welcomed back into a house haunted by their absence. His therapist herself said it: meaning can be found in chaos. It is, after all, nicer to see the glass half-empty than to admit that there is no glass anymore.”

Deidre’s social media reads like a beautiful love letter to lesbianism, and their personal work reflects their eventful life—from a case of sexual violence in Deidre’s childhood to marrying their platonic partner. Ferrars & Fields talks to Deidre about queer love and its part in the process of healing from sexual trauma.

“What am I in the eyes of most people—a nonentity, an eccentric or an unpleasant person—somebody who has no position in society and never will have, in short, the lowest of the low. All right, then—even if that were absolutely true, then I should one day like to show by my work what such an eccentric, such a nobody, has in his heart.”

STORIES NEED PERSPECTIVES
NEED MARGINALIZED VOICES
NEED FUNDS.
NEED MARGINALIZED VOICES
NEED FUNDS.
Helft uns dabei, die Geschichten zu erzählen, die die Welt bewegen
— durch einzigartige, individuelle und wissenschaftlich unterbaute Perspektiven.