Dying

I'm dieing, slowly but surly the life in me is being sucked out of me until soon there will be nothing left of me. Day by day, i can feel my soul being sucked from me, my friends and my family seem to be more important than ever, yet it seems to take me more and more strength everyday to put on my face and make it look as everything is ok. How do you explain that you feel as if day by day your soul is being pulled apart, and that within a weeks time you will be nothing but a zombie, a body who's brain and body function but has virtually no feelings. Each day I have to remind myself to do little things like laugh, smile, run, jump, make myself appear to be alive, I don't want to face the truth anymore than anyone else does. I'm scared, I don't know where to turn, but i need the love of my friends, and i need it now.... I'm dieing, and all i need is your love.........

Satisfaction

"you're so grown up! You look just like your mother!" I hear these comments over and over again! I sit and wonder, why must you tell me that i look like mom? Why can't you tell me that i look like me? Everyone says that no one will ever look like you, there is only one you. So why must i be told to look like someone else? Many girls are happy to hear people compliment them about their looks, their face lights up when someone tells them " You're so beautiful!" while they bask in the glory of unimportant things such as looks, i take all my pleasure and my pride in seeing the looks on someones face when they hear something amazing i've written, or seen something beautiful that i painted. Hearing a beautiful song that i worked so hard to learn to play on the piano, or to sing. Chanting torah for the children's service or just helping out at a service and feeling a part of something amazing! The look on someones face when i've done something great or amazing is all i need to feel good. To see Naomi almost cry when she saw her bench for the first time since i'd started painting it kept me going for 2 weeks straight. She had trusted me enough to let me take something and turn it into something else, and the look of surprise and pleasure and amazment almost had me crying! The tears where there, though they didn't fall from her eye's was amazing that i had the power to make people have emotions so strong. I know that in life i don't want to be just someone who occasionally does something great, i want to excel in everything i try and do. I know this is hard to do, but i feel that if i try than i will. My gift for writing and art and singing i know will lead me to great places, but i know that i also but work hard to get to that place in life. And if the hard work in the end is as satisfieing as the look on someone's face when they hear or see something amazing i've done, you better believe that i'm going to do it, and i'm going do it to the best of my 15 year old ability and beyond.

Dreams

All my life I've wanted to be something I'm not. A popstar, actor, famouse, popular, a model, a dancer, a music genious. The one thing that has always stayed the same about all of these is that I know I can't be any of these, I wasn't ment to be any of them. Throught the years though, one of these fantasies has always stayed with me, to become a famous singer. I've shed my tears and told my sad stories about how I can do it if I could only have a chance. I know i'm to late to be saying anything, I'm like any other girl, I know that I have basically no chance of making it, or getting a record deal. I tried to think of things that might make me different from the rest of the people that want to get a record deal too, i'm just like them, what so special about me? There's bound to be someone with a better voice than me, more talented than me and who have better chances than me. As childish as this dream is, i've held on to it for so long. I'm not ready to let it go just yet. Music has helped me in so many ways and i still want to believe that the world has a place for me to shine where the rest of my idols are. For me to reach this place would be so hard, and if I did make it, the entertainment world is cruel and harsh, people don't except you at first, they stare at you, wanting to know who you are trying to take the spot light, it's harsh. People want to know everything about you. They analize everything you do, say, wear, and make trying to find something to criticise you about. The funny part about this is that for as horrible as this sounds, i want to be there. I want to be known and hear myself on the radio, be in a studio for long hours recording songs until i'm ready to fall asleep, work hard on coriography, balance touring and school, i want all that. Thousands of other people are saying that it's there place, and i know that by me saying it's my place too is useless. I want it to be my place and i'm willing to work for it in anyway i must. All i need is one moment to shine, let me show the world what i can really do.

scared

As I'm sitting here talking to him, i realize why I'm shaking and why i can't control myself. Why i feel depressed and alone. The eomotions running through me are scaring me not because i'm afraid but because they are so pure, every emotion is purly that one thing, there is no mixing of them, they are all themselves and are like oil and water when trying to mix them. I'm shaking because i don't know how to control myself as i talk to him, i want him to know everything, give him so much and tell him my every secret. I love him, my heart says it, and my poor soul isn't ready for these emotions yet, they're to strong, to pure, to true for me to want or even be able to deal with them just yet. I want to tell him but i'm scared of the truth, he's figured out that i like him, but and i've said to much and now he want's to know the rest of what i've kept silent about for so long. So i tell him, and i'm right, he doesn't feel the same to any extent, i knew this was coming but i didn't want to believe it. Unaware of wat my body is doing i suddenly realize that something hot and wet is rolling down my cheek. It's salty and sweet, and full of the love i want so badly to have from him. Tears stream down my face, silently but like a stream, leaving paths for the rest to follow. I tell him that i can not go on for i am scared of my own emotions. But he tell's me it helps to talk and that i will feel better if i tell him, and i believe him so i do. The deeper i go the worse i shake the worse i feel and the more i want to never love again. I begin to think that it is better to never love than be loved and lose that person who you love. I tell him this, I've told him everything else, the feelings i've kept inside for months, the very kisses i've wanted to give him and i've dreamt about i've told him it all. And he only makes it worse by saying that if i do something because i can't control myself he'll understand. I want him to say "Stop you're going to make yourself love sick if you don't stop!" i want him to say he loves me too. I want my heart to be set at ease again once more, for a little while. But he doesn't and my heart isn't, so i sit and shake and cry and wish for the love i long and the emotions i fear.

His Other Side

Boys. They keep things to themselves, you hardly know what they think. And if they like you and you find out, or they tell you, they try to make every it seem as if they don't. They hide from you, but they want to be with you. His friends make fun of him for liking you, but your friends can't stop talking about him and how lucky you are that he likes you. When you two are alone, everything is perfect, he's honest truthful and not afraid to tell you what he thinks of you. He tells you that you look beautiful, that your eye's are hypnotizing and that he could look into them forever, he tells you that your body is perfect, that your personality is incredible, and that who you are is everything he could ever ask for in anybody. He makes you feel like you are amazing, that without you, he wouldn't have a reason to live. But his friends think the opposite thing. They think that you are taking up his time, that all of the sweet things he's saying aren't true. At least that's what they tell you. You know that they want you out of his life, and you try to ignore them. His kisses are sweet,light, and delicious, he doesn't push you, and you don't push him. Both of you have a hard time deciding on things, but in the end you end up agreeing on the same thing. You both laugh and enjoy each other's company, when you're cold, he wraps his arms around you and hugs you. When you're sitting on the couch by yourself he snuggles up next to you just happy to be near you. He's polite to your parents, and you'r polite to his. He plays with your younger siblings, and doesn't care if they're constantly around you. He's everything you've ever wanted, and you can't imagine life without him. The weekends are your time together, his friends, will have to wait until the week to be with him. You want to be with him every second you can, constantly calling, IM'ing, and e-mailing him. You try to not do it to much, afraid he might get annoyed with you, but he never does, you have fantasies about him and you. You want him to be like this all the time, but the truth is, you the only one who will ever see his other side.

Memories of Camp

Since camp, I've found myself struggling to find where I have gone and what I've become. Shabbat is when my true color's show, the spirit of shabbat consumes me, my body can no longer control itself. I can no longer control myself, I shake with the anticipation of shabbat about to be here. When i sing the sound is magical and unreal, the spirit of shabbat works it's magic to make things become all they can be. i sing myself horse, or even scream myself horse. I become quiet at times, and I'm remembering something from camp. The memory is of me and my friends on shabbat during song session, singing as loud as we can, dancing like no one is looking. We are singing not to make a pretty sound but because t he spirit of shabbat is all around and we have to let it out. I see all of us, tears rolling down our faces, we're so happy to be with each other, i see us all in a circle arms around each others shoulders singing quietly and calmly, tears rolling silently down our cheeks. When the memory is over i become quiet, I want that memory to come to life as it had when I was having it. I run downstairs turn on music and jump around like an idiot until someone walks downstairs. " I needed to let my energy out, I had to much of it." i say to them, the truth was, i had no energy, but i knew at that moment, 11 other girls, where doing the exact same thing. Using the exact same excuse, and thinking the exact same thought as me....." I wish you could be here."

Trust and Boys

Why is it that as soon as any girl asks her parents if she can go over a boys house, they say no. I feel so un trusted as soon as I as my parents if i can go over a boys house. If he has a friend over that's a guy too, they lean towards no, even if there is a parent home. Do they not trust me? Why can't they let me try something out. Even if they may not like the situation, not every situation I'll be faced with in like is going to be one that they like or one that will be easily solved with the word "no". I want a chance to prove that i can take care of myself, and that have enough respect for myself that i know when i'm uncomfortable or something isn't right! I need the opportunity to prove that I can be trusted in a situation where i'm with a lot of guy's and i'm the only girl. You want me to grow up, well i need the chances to learn how to be grown up. You want me to take care of myself, I need the chances to take care of myself. You want me to learn how to be responsible, well then give me the chance to be responsible. I want to prove i can be trusted, so give me the chances, and I'll fulfill your biggest desires.

Beauty

"It's beautiful!" someone exclaims over a something that I've painted. The feelings of excitement content and wonder fill me with confusion. "What do they mean?" I think to myself, why is this simple comment so hard for me to understand? When people say something is beautiful, do they mean it's pleasing to the eye, the effort put into it makes it beautiful, what do they mean? When people look at me and say to me " look at you, you're so beautiful!" Do they mean that i have a beautiful mind, personality, or looks? To me what i want people to see in me that is beautiful is a mind that can learn, explain and tell many things as i feel them. Hands that are eager to create paintings that will please your eyes, a heart yurning to know what love is really like. A voice eager and excited to help you connect in prayer even closer through the sounds that it can create. A mouth eager to speak those sacred and ancient words that connect us to G-d and make us feel in ways that words can not describe. Ears ready to listen to what ever you have to say, and a mind ready to think of a solution to whatever your problem may be. But most importantly a person, ready to do what is right. I hope you can see this in me, and if you can, than i have become the person that I've always wanted to be.

Parenting

Parent's seem so confused on how to treat their kids after they reach the age of 13. They're not kids, and they're not adults, and worst of all very few of them can even manage to act as mature as most adults can. They seem stumped when it comes to trying to find the right way to treat them, or what responsibility's they can be given. I don't see what's so difficult about it, when the answer is looking you right in the face, literally. Treat us like teenagers, we're not adults or kids, we are right in the middle. The responsibility's you give to us should be based on what you think we can handle, not what we are suppose to be able to handle. We can write and act and sound mature, but we may not be mature. It's a difficult thing for us to want to become adults when you make it sound or look or feel so horrible. Give us the opportunity to look at the good and the bad. Let us experience the joys of freedom, and pressure of having to take responsibility for our actions. We need to feel this in order to want to grow up. We can't live at home forever can we?

letter from camp #3

Camp is my sanctuary. God is all around me - I can feel the presence resonate throughout by body. With every breath of air, sip of water, bite of food, word I speak and word I pray, my connection becomes tighter, stronger and closer to God. When I sing, I know that it was God's blessing to me. I know from the joy I feel that singing Hebrew songs and speaking those sacred words is what I want to do. I want to study Torah and learn how to read and chant it, and help other people to learn and chant it too.
Here at camp it's cool to help out in services, discuss Torah, run around like crazy when you hear that limud (Torah study) is going to be extended another half hour.
The energy you get here is so strong that it pulses through you. It's contagious. You can't stop it, and I want to bring it back home with me.
No one cares if you like sports. They care if you are crazy enough to stand up and start singing Michamocha to the tune of "In the Jungle". It's cool to be Jewish and to run around singing songs from services. It's cool to be yourself.
This is Neverland, somewhere over the rainbow, a magical place. It's unbelievable. I'm connected to all the other girls in a way that is like none other. I want so badly to come back next year and to join NFTY so I can see all my new friends. They're all in NFTY too.

Letter from camp #1

…but the reason for me writing again is not to tell about the fun of camp, but to describe the spirituality of it.
Imagine yourself in a sanctuary outside. Trees surround you. The brancehs spread over your head like a shield or G-d's hand, protection you from unholy things. Benches are all around you, filled with people, all eager to be a part of something wonderful. No one is an outcast here or a strangers. We are all equal. The sound of children's voices is all you hear - in unison but in harmony too. The sound of our ruach, our spirit drowns out the guitar that had once been leading us. Now we lead the guitar.
It's amazing to be around people who want and feel the same way. And we don't have to hide it because this is who we are. I wish you could be here to share this with me. I miss you a lot.

Letter from camp #2

"...Today we did a group activity, we were asked when we heard the word "Shabbat" what did we think of, what did it remind us of, and what memories did we have?
I didn't say anything because I couldn't, the memories that I have are so strong that at that moment, tears began to form in my eyes and roll down my cheeks. Thankfully, nobody noticed during those moments we had to sit and think.
The smell of challah became so clear it was as if I was right there. I could hear Joram and Kaleb's laughter, the sound of tiny feet running around the house in the excitement of guests' - and Shabbats' - arrival. I could smell vanilla in the air as if Naomi and Allison were sitting right there with me.
I could see everyone sitting around the Shabbat table, telling jokes, deep in conversation, or telling the reason for why they brought the food they were assigned. I saw Dad singing a random song. I heard Noah playing his guitar. I thought about giving Mom a hug and a kiss.
I had the memory of being surrounded by the community of people that love me, and that I love too...."

Endings

The last day of school has come. You feel that you want to cry, next won't be this good, the teacher's this nice, the students this kind. Next year will be the first time in 4 years that you have been in that same school with 4 grades in it again. You know that everyone will be watching out for themselves. Friends won't be the same, teacher's won't be so kind, and the boy's won't be so immature, at least we hope. We will be the youngest in the school, we won't know what to do with ourselves. The homework will be harder. The hours will seem longer, the nights will seem shorter. And as graduation day comes, for us in the 8th grade it seems like high school is so far away. When in reality it's only 3 months away. The ending of this school year will be the ending of our childhood. The teacher's must let go of our hands, next year they won't care if we actually do our homework, our grades are our decisions. We won't have a dress code to follow, they expect that by 14 years old we'll know how to dress approprietly, and for some of us this is true, for other's they still need some practice. The hours of homework won't be so merciful next year, they expect that we can manage time and know when to get to bed in order to be ready for the next day. I know I'm ready, but I don't want to be ready. The end is nearing and my childhood is disappearing, and at the same time my mind is growing. I am ready.

HaZamir

So you walk into this room, you've been here a couple of times so you know your way around. A couple of other kids come into the room, they look about your age, but you're not quite sure. An adult steps into the room, she introduces herself and hands out music. You don't know this music, but she tells you that you're going to be learning it. You feel insecure in this place with all these other people around you, but you follow everyone else. You don't want to name yourself the baby of the group.
A few months later, this is just a memory. We walk into the room together, laughing and smiling, having a good time. The director is there - we warm up and start to sing. All around us everything else is quiet except for the sound of the piano and 14 wonderful voices. The first song ends, we are all silent, listening to the stillness around us. Tears fall down my face. G-d surely must have given us this gift. I can see I'm not the only one crying. We all connect through those silent tears. We start another song, just as beautiful and just as moving. We keep our faith as strong as our voices. We tell the story. The tears keep falling down our faces as we sing. From a distance it looks as if we are very upset, but if you looked closer you'll see the smiles on our faces. We cry tears of happiness and rejoice in the music we make when we come together.
We are not G-d, we are not angels.
We are HaZamir.

Ignored

There are times in life when you feel ignored, or that no one actually know's that you exist. Times like that happen to me very often, and you would think that you might get use to it after a while, but you don't. Big surprise there right? I don't know you tell me, when you think that your friends are ignoring you, that your best friend is avoiding you, and the whole world is against you, what do you do to stop yourself from crying? I'm being serious. I feel ignored every time I try to be serious, why this is I don't know, but I feel that anything that I say that is seriouse, I feel that it is never taken as a seriouse statment. Because of this, I have made it so that I'm a noticable person, if I have something to say, I make sure that who ever I'm saying it too know's it. But what if the person you're trying to talk to, won't talk to you, what if he/she is so convinced that you really don't mean what you're saying that they just laugh at you every time you say something? Well that's kind of what it feels like for me. But you tell me, with a dad like mine, I can see why!

Emotions

I know that being the oldest of 4 kids, trying to get good grades, having a steady relationship, and singing in an international choir sounds like an easy thing to balance to some people. To other people this may sound very crazy and that they for sure could never stand up to the task. I for one, agree. The amount of physical and emotional stress that is put on you to do well in school, be a good role model and many other things is incredible. The emotions that bubble inside me every day are to much altogether to keep held calmly inside of me. So I seek the help of my friends, a boyfriend, or one of the most trusted people in my life. I sit and I cry or I laugh or I just sit there in that person's arms relaxing and thinking deeply until I feel that I know exactly what I want to talk about. But my emotions lately have been crazy, out of control, and there are times, like the one I'm in right now, where all I want to do is to sit and cry. But I can't because for as much as I want to, I know that me crying is a rather big thing. Joram comes up to me and ask's me what's wrong, then Kaleb, then Isabelle. Dad will poke his head in, I'll tell him to just leave me alone and he will, last but not least mom will poke her head in and no matter what I may say she won't leave. I have to thank her for this, because if she did leave me, I would sit in my room all day and just cry, instead I sit and cry and tell her everything that is wrong, and she listens. For as strange as it may sound though, that's all that i might need is the paitence of someone who cares to just sit there and listen. Emotions are a funny thing, they control your life, who you are and what you feel. They even control how we act. I don't want to be a sad person, I don't like crying, I like laughing and making other people laugh, I like writing sweet things that make people think or cry or have a personal connection to whatever it is that my thoughts are. I like being a teenager and knowing that I am surrounded by a community of people who love me and will help guide me through life. Although the time to letting go of my hand is coming closer and closer and I know that it will be scary for a while to be out in the world all on my own. But I also know that the community that surrounds me won't leave me either, and that's what I remember every time I have a bad day, that no matter what I do or what my emotions may be, they will always be there for me.

Shabbat

It's almost here, my heart is pounding, my adrenaline is pumping through me that I can hardly contain myself, the anxiety that I have must be let out in some way. That one car pulls in, I want to rush out to meet the people who all sit in the car and then slowly pile out. I want to run up to them, hug them all, and take all the kids by the hand and say, "Come on, I've been waiting so long, let's go play!" But I can't, so I sit in the living room, trying to act calm looking through the window, watching them as they walk up the drive way,I hear the door open, Joram greets them with his usual hello, Isabelle is standing there waiting for the younger kids to follow her, the other 2 slowly enter the room in which I sit. I can hardly contain my enthusiasm, I try to cover it up by saying something weird or trying to not be active for the energy that only Fridays's give me has built up and I must spend it now. I say something to them, they laugh, and then they follow me to where ever I may lead them. More kids come in, and as more come in, more energy is given to me. I quickly become exhausted, by dinner, my energy is spent. I don't want it to come back but that first bite of the sensational food sends my adrenaline pumping madly through my entire body. This is what Fridays are like

Guys

Okay for all my guys friends out there, I'm sorry but I'm going to pick on you. As a girl I know that guys drive us crazy! They like you, they hate you, they love you, they loathe you, they drive use nuts, but we love them for it. We don't understand your ways and you don't seem to understand ours either. You confuse us, you make us scratch our heads in wonder. You make us stare in confusion, and you hypnotize us with your enchantments that you cast on us. We try to show ourselves off to you, we wear the skimpiest swim suits as to show off our bodies, we try and catch the sunlight just right so that we seem to glow. We worry about our hair, how we smell, is our make up ok, do we match, are our skirts short enough, is our underwear cute enough, are our chests stuck out enough, are our shirts tight enough. The list of things goes on and on. Guy's seem to have it the easy way, They pull on some pant's a shirt sag their pants comb their hair spray on some Ax and they're done. Girls take it to the extreme, I try not to but all to many a time I have felt myself become pulled into the vortex to which many girls fall a victim too, of caring about what you look like instead of what you know, and how you think, and if you care about your self. I've been lucky and have been able to learn how to tell when that vortex is about to pull me in, and how to stop it. For me, I just look myself in the miror and say to myself, "This is me, I am pretty just the way I am, I can be me without the help of the make up and all the other gunk, all I really need is my brain." I make sure that I have my time to be girly, but I try to stick to on the neutral side of things, and girls let me tell you, guy's want to date you for who you are, not for the size cup you are!

Music

No matter what it comes down to, everyone has one thing in common. We all like music. Wheather it's classical, pop, country, broadway, what ever, we all enjoy listening to it and being a part of it. When I'm part of somthing that can surround me and make me feel like all my troubles are gone, I call it heaven. But the feeling of being able to be a part of a four part harmonious choir is the most thrilling and unexplainable feeling that I have ever had. At Hazamir yesterday we had finished our last rehersal before we go to New York tomorrow, we decided to end with Seasons of Love. This isn't a song that we are actually singing, but it's a song that we all love. As we sang together we all clapped our hands and moved our body's in a way that only music that surounds you can make you feel. I felt like nothing could stop us, no matter what challenges may face us or what problems may stop us. By singing together as a community playing a song that everyone liked. I knew in that one moment that everything was and is going to be alright

School

We all go to this place for most of our lives. We seem to spend more time here than we do at home, we hate it, we like it, we loathe it, we love it. It's school, in the closed confines of the different buildings that we call school, we figure out who we are. We learn things that we think are useless to us, but really the will help us in later life. We study how the guys or the girls act because secretly you want to be that one special girl or guy who knows just why the guys are looking at the girls funny or why the girls keep giggling and looking at the guys. Neither of us are quite sure why we do this but we do. The rules that seem to be imprinted in us, yet we don't know wat they are. We follow the "popular" kids who later on in life will turn out just like all of us. We joke around saying that we're going to marry rich or that our parents will support us, but we're all worried on the inside, we all know that we want to be successful. The girls play dumb and the guys play macho. We compete with each other trying to see who is the best at whatever. In the end at graduation day we will all see that we're all alike yet different. I don't know how we are alike and different yet, but I know that my time is comeing soon and fast to learn why. I know that in my heart this is the truth, and the way I act is affected by those secret rules imprinted on me that many generations before me and after me have followed. This is what we do, we follow and we lead.

Invisible

Do you ever have that feeling when you're around that one guy that you don't really exist. Or that no matter what you do, change your hair what sports you like, that kind of stuff, that he'll never really take any notice of you? That's how I feel somtimes around one guy in general that I know. He's everything that I could ever want, and yet when I'm in his presence I feel unimportant, or that I'm an unwanted guest in his presence. He makes me become a little kid instead of being my 14 year old self. I know that to try to get him to be excited about somthing it takes a lot. I've changed a lot about me to try and make him like me more. I've started to get into the same sports that he likes, the kind of music that he likes, even the kind of things he likes to learn about. I've changed myself entirely for this one guy. He's become my best friend and yet i'm the one who's most excluded from his life, he's become the most trusted person in my life and yet, I'm the one who he seems to trust the least. I wish things could be like they use to, before our friendship became so stiff, I wish that I could be that one person that he couldn't wait to see on Friday night's. But I'm not and somtimes I think that's what hurts the most, is that he's grown out of me, he doesn't need me. But what he doesn't know is that I still need him, a lot because without him, my life wouldn't be the same, I wouldn't have a reason to try and look nice every day or try so hard in school. But I do, I try to catch his eye and let him know that I'm here, and that I'm waiting for him and that I always will be.