Punk isn’t something you can fully define, and maybe that’s the point. It’s raw, it’s messy, and it’s a reaction to what the world throws at you. Punks picked me up, sometimes literally, on the floor of a pit with the wind knocked out of me. In moments like those, I’ve come to realize that “Punk” isn’t just spikes and eyeliner, it’s a community. One full of people who will protect and accept you regardless of your skin, your gender, your sexuality, or your beliefs. That’s the heartbeat behind Smudge, a zine exploring the philosophy of punk. Not the fashion, not the music genre, but the values that make someone a real punk.

I chose this topic because it’s personal. I don’t have a textbook definition, and I’m more rooted in the hardcore scene than classic punk, but punk has always found me. It’s about standing up when others judge or attack you, about supporting people around you, about turning the hate and brokenness the world throws at us into something passionate, something alive. Punks show up, they speak up, and they make room for anyone who’s been knocked down.

This zine flows like a kind of tour, a journey from surface to depth. It starts with a recipe for a punk. What makes someone punk, the cracks in their past that shaped them, the fire that propels them forward. Early pages focus on the symbols. Eyeliner, spikes, boots, all armor, and signals of identity. But this is just the entry point. The tour continues, exploring culture and community. The small human acts that make punk more than an aesthetic.

Through creating this zine, I’ve begun to understand that punk isn’t a philosophy in the formal sense. It’s reactive, born from frustration, grief, anger, and love. It’s defending yourself and others when society pushes and shoves. The look, the clothes, the spikes, the eyeliner, it’s armor, a symbol. But without morals and action, it’s just a costume. Smudge tries to show the real, the progression from surface to identity, from observation to reflection.

This zine is for outsiders, for people who don’t think they fit the mold, for anyone who feels invisible in a world that often misunderstands them. It’s meant to be raw, gritty, but hopeful, a reflection of the chaos and courage that the punk community has taught me. Hopefully, someone reading this will see themselves in the pages, and recognize that punk isn’t about what you wear or what shows you go to, but about who you are and how y0u treat others. It’s a way to turn anger into care, frustration into connection, and chaos into purpose. Live raw, stand strong, protect others, and carry your truth.