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these last 2 weeks have been a lot. im not even sure what to write here. i want to write everything on my mind. the way that i promised i would here. but each time i sat down to write, the problem wasn’t that there wasn’t anything to say, but that i had absolutely no idea how to say it.
no idea how to process the sadness and anger and hurt and pain in my body. the genuine desire to love those who wanted to pin me down and feed me their rhetoric. to convince me that the fibers of my being are hateful and the basis of my faith is discriminatory. which i’ve been finally processing. and maybe, honestly, maybe it is.
even though they only see inevitable conflict, stark incompatibility between my desire to care and what i believe. if i believe this, then i am incapable of truly loving. and i am not sure i agree with them on that.

but i realized. that this platform is not meant for me to be ashamed. this platform is for me to express my inner most. though it may be raw and ugly. though the world may hate me for it. i am writing here for me. and for God. He is my audience of one.

the next few days I will be releasing some writings that have come out of this time. im tempted to copy and paste some of the articles that have been written to provide you all with some context. but i am afraid. im afraid that will immediately launch this into a debate again. with sides and with hurts and with a war and with absolutes. where i must absolutely agree that this was wrong, otherwise i am a stupid fool on the wrong side of history who oppresses the marginalized.

i guess i’ll just say. that a group on my campus invited a controversial speaker. leading to a petition and a protest. afterwards more news emerged about a controversial decision. and though it’s unclear what has led to what, this group is now under probation. which has yet to be defined. see i think that’s enough for now. do your research if you’re curious. it’s all out there for you to find.

but please i ask for your respect. i ask for your open mind. i ask that you not immediately pick a side. i ask that you see me as a human. and you see everyone involved as human too. even the institutions we want to tear down are full of humans, some who really don’t have a clue. and i pray for this tension in my heart to stop. my arms can only stretch so far. before they completely detach from my body, like my mind has begun to from my heart. i can’t remain silent. because silence talks. it’s read as indifference while I scream defenseless. hands covering my mouth, my eyes, i must protect myself. a hardness develops. and a cloudy mist surrounds. death to logic. death to individual thought. do i not deserve these shouts for help. do i deserve to rot. stop telling me im exaggerating. i already know i am. but that’s what emerges when im responding to these festering hurts. burnt bridges. and constant messages. God, where are you. in all the times i’ve said i need you. i have never meant it so deeply nor been so sure. that i need you now. i can’t on my own endure.

~~ posted on 2.28.18

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Most times I don’t understand
Most times I echo lies
Most times I’m crippled, stuck in my head, completely paralyzed
But then you paint these sights around me
And I am in awe of your light
As something stirs, whispers that I just might be worth it because you graced me with your life
Pierce my heart deeper still
Piece me back together
Wash me in this river, fill me without measure
Daily I choose to leave the past behind
Daily I fight against this pain that numbs and chains me stupefied
Day to day leads to today
But here hopelessness will end
Because today I will fight to feel your love
Not because it doesn’t exist but because without it I won’t know how to live.

river

©Kira Shymn

~~ picture also taken and edited by me (for the first time)

back on campus. I had a rough flight coming back to Boston. but the moment I landed, snow started falling on my face. and all i could do was smile. i felt like a gift was falling down on me. reminding me that i can do this. that this semester is going to be all about hope. hope.

the ski trip was fine. a lot more fun than i thought it was going to be. skiing is one of those things that feels like privilege. because really only people with money can ski. and people who are good at skiing are usually good because they’ve gone more than once. and again that costs money.

for myself. i almost died while skiing in 2014. so whenever i start going too fast a terrifying rush enters my body and i just want to get off the freaking mountain and stop moving so fast. and so i basically sliiiiiiiiiide very carefully down every slope. bunny hill, green circle, blue square. and on black diamonds i lay on my back and sliiiiiiiiiide on down.

but this trip. i was able to get better. it felt like a weird metaphor for my life. yes, i’ve had traumatic experiences. and yes, those experiences still trigger fear and extreme caution and sometimes crazy reactions. and yes, there are moments when i want to just get off this ride and i’m ashamed that people can see what a terrible skier i am. but im doing things at my own pace. im getting down this mountain. and when i get to the bottom, i’m full of hope. hope.

relationships are tough. especially friendships. my least favorite feeling is that hot burn in my cheeks fueled from regret of saying something i want to suck back in. words that are flying away from me and causing a chain of reactions i didn’t anticipate. i want to pause those moments. i want to go back in time in those moments. i want time to move faster faster, fast forward to a time when people have completely forgotten what i said. most of the time this happens when i’m trying to be funny or i get too comfortable or i’m trying to portray something im not, make someone feel a certain way, manipulative.

but i proclaim hope. i cling to hope. i will fight to hope. that this semester won’t end like the last. this semester though my last will be as it should be. and at the end i’ll leave here, shedding the me that couldn’t and rising with the one who can.

i love winter. i love the snow and the cold. i love the end of the year. because i love beginning a new one again. it always feels like this time when i can start every single plan and program and goal and accomplish all of my dreams. it’s a magical time when all that matters are the things that i start. and i can ignore the fact that i rarely follow through.

this year i’m hoping to post more. maybe differently than i did previously. because previously i’ve only written when i was in this pit and writing helped me express something and got me out. and it helped to work on a piece with more rhythm and intention to package a certain image or emotion or event. but i think happy times should be captured too. because people can identify with happy just as much as sad.

i’m hoping to capture as much as i can during my last semester at Harvard. because it’s not just the last semester. it’s a weird semester. i won’t have any real requirements. i won’t have any real commitments. and pretty much all of my closest friends have already graduated. a lot of me and God and me time i guess. Harvard has always been a place of loss for me. I constantly feel like i’m losing over there. this place where im not only losing against everyone else. but losing against myself. losing myself. for me, Harvard has been like sand in my hands. i have a hard time focusing on what i have because so much seems to be spilling through my fingers. and it has taken time to fully adjust and find the things i truly love there. on top of the fact that i feel like i don’t deserve to be there. that i (again) think too much and do too little. i paralyze myself.

i guess i want to share more of myself on this blog. i want to rediscover something that i feel like i lost. or maybe it’s that i want to develop something i feel building inside me and through my life. and probably most of all i just want to do something consistently.

i think a lot. i feel a lot more. i say a lot. and i do stuff too. but each year time keeps passing. and all i really remember are the pictures i have and the things i’ve written. so here’s to more memories. here’s to some pretty terrible writing (apologies to all who read along). here’s to more from Kira Shymn. A girl no one really knows, including herself. but still a part of me that wishes she could sing.