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.