Summer . . .

There's a quiet serenity that takes over a campus during summer vacation -- a seemingly private whisper, as the leaves sway.  The moment when all confusion is removed, and the only idea is clear skies NOT breaking.  An environment where people once trekked to and from, not noticing the beauty around them.  To only realize it, as the breeze stops, the leaves prohibit themselves from shaking, or changing color.  The fascination with birds, squirrels, and all nature -- they become one.  If only for a mere few months -- all nature resides in a commonality; of peace and quiet serenity.

The packed classrooms, are now empty.  The crowded buses, are cleared.  The subways . . . well, they're still in use.  The streets are filled with smiling inhabitants, packing for their annual trip to the "Cod," or the "Hamptons" and the only people visibly maneuvering through the streets, are either tourists, or locals with no need for travel.

It's funny how many people we look past, when they are EVERYWHERE.  And when that crowd disappears, for some, so does that ignorance.  The want to walk past someone; pretending they aren't seen, just because you don't want to be bothered.  That moment when you look down a corner, and there are more than six cardboard cots lined up . . . You turn up your headphones, turn your head, or proceed to pantomime a phone conversation, just so you aren't approached.  Well, that moment seems too irrelevant.  There are no longer a thousand people crowding the streets, so you cannot walk away.  Their faces are clearer, in a sense, you see their shame of lying on the ground.  You see them, as you jog through the park, exit the station, bike towards the River -- they are still there.  Many people have deserted the area(s), but they still have NOWHERE else to go.

There is no Cape Cod, no Hamptons, no summer vacation to another state.  There is only a move; to another corner, another street, maybe even another town nearby.  But they remain, the same people -- the same during each semester.  When you're running late and running away from a quick conversation, they are waiting, patiently.  When you're getting ready to pack up for another destination -- they are still visible.

There will always be a quiet serenity that takes over a campus during summer months.  It doesn't matter which campus, there will always be less people;  to meet, to speak to, to avoid, to walk past.  But just as you would stop to caress the leaves, or feed an animal, or possibly take a run -- why not clear a moment and break a habit?  Why not take a second to provide serenity for someone else?  It only takes a few moments, when you really have an entire summer.

Much Love,

~Kyra C.

"Nowhere To Run"

Sitting and listening to Caleb and Sol's Nowhere To Run, and realizing how simple I always thought it was, to do just that.  It's amazing how many times this semester I've felt like running away . . . anywhere . . . although I knew there wasn't a real destination to go.  The fascination with trying to be everything and do everything, just won't release its hold upon me.  Learning how to cope with more regret, drama, and let down -- done by myself, is what pushes me -- that want to prove I can get to the other side.

And as Caleb and Sol's gutsy lyrics stir their way through my speakers, singing "there's nowhere to run to . . . nowhere to turn to . . . nowhere to run . . . nowhere to hide, and nowhere to go," I'm yet complicated with the notion to relieve myself from feeling as though I have any control over the matter at hand.  Even if I know my actions are because of the notions I choose to react from, I am still learning . . .

So, instead of reverting back to old habits, that I seemed to shake, until later in the semester -- alas, I will go for a run, to the gym, to the river, around the school . . . wherever there's a blank space, which can only come alive with deep understanding, made from taking in the peace that surrounds me, everyday.  I mustn't try and run from the evil around me . . . I mustn't try and control every move.  I need to just live.

Because, "there's nowhere to run to . . . nowhere to turn to . . . nowhere to run . . . nowhere to hide, and nowhere to go."  And I'm still learning . . .

~Kyra C.

"My Way"

So, I'm still at the computer, avoiding my tasks -- which are finishing these assignments and sending them off . . . I get that once I've completed everything, I'll have more time to break and relax, however for some odd reason, I just can't get myself to write . . . I mean, it's not like there's too much of writers block going on.  The only sort of explanation I can give to myself is, procrastination is taking over.  And that's most certainly not a good thing.

I've made lists,  started the aforementioned assignments -- even went as far as having the notes that I wrote out, lying next to the computer . . . Still, nothing.  I'm not finished.  I'm nowhere near finished, and this is driving me insane.  *Speak of the devil -- I get a phone call, which I have to pick up -- but I shouldn't have . . .*

I wish I could -- You know what, I think I'll make myself another vow . . . One that always worked as an undergrad.  I'm going to chillax, once more (for one hour), then I'm going to write in isolation, until EVERYTHING is complete, revised, again, and sent off (by the deadline).  Then and only then, will I need to take another nap, or gosh forbid, sleep.  Yeah, I'm planning on pulling my first Grad School All-Nighter!!  So, wish me luck . . . :-p

Peace Out Dudes and I'll check in later -- Much!

~Kyra C.

"The Shame"

Sitting here, listening to Alex Cornish's "The Shame" and trying to figure out why with all of my upbeat energy, I always seem to fall into another dimension of numbness . . . Today should have been a great day, where everything had been taken care of  -- I would be relaxed and ready for tomorrow's big day.  But somehow things didn't go according to plan -- My plan.  And even now, I seem to have found myself changing the positive habits, for the old vices that use to keep me complacent.  In that moment where you don't want to smile, laugh . . . You just want to SCREAM, into a pillow, and feel like you're okay.

Tomorrow may be the big day, however I've had to make many decisions on what not to do and as much as it hurts, I cannot have the happiness that I really want.  I just need to settle on what could possibly turn into a happy moment -- Even if it's by isolating my subconscious and racing until the end.

I'm slowing down, running from the truth -- I can't really change this.  I can't really change me.  And why should I continue to try and force the inevitable? This just has to be the way;  My way.

~Kyra C.

"Don't laugh too hard, something bad will happen"

As I sat in the classroom, pondering the thought of a ten minute write, of something as abstract as putting together a story with only a few key prompts -- my shift became apparent, it was going to be about music -- of course.  So, as I sit, today, stroking the keyboard in anticipation of putting paper onto a white screen, I delve into my own personal music library and just sing . . . Sing, internally, and forget about the prolonged silence held within this room.  I type.

"Don't laugh too hard, something bad will happen"

It amazes me;  the synchronicity of each step, as the drummer's leg leave the ground.  Pulsating with extended vibrato, when the mallet pounces into the base drum.  BOOM.  BOOM.  Then, silence.  Almost as if to shift from reality, to death . . . As absurd as humanly possible, the drummer, freezes in place.  Sweat drenching the uniform, eyes glazed;  yet trapped under a helmet.  Stand still.  No one moves . . . A camera follows each angle, until there's enough to capture a full scale.  CRASH.  Not one person looks around.  Eyes fixated onto the distance;  no one looks toward the sound.  It's unimaginable, like tiny soldiers, the drummer's peer over.  Head's still in place, just to gaze at the cause for sound:  A mallet hit the ground.  What to do . . . A snicker protruding from silence?  Absolutely not.  Don't laugh too hard, something bad will happen, echo's within.  Yet, at that moment, nothing could be worse.

And as I've typed my last word and finalized with a period, I say goodbye -- or so long.  I will be back with yet another story.  But for now . . . Silence. :-p

Much Love!!  Peace out, dudes.

~Kyra C.