~The Return~

Two years ago I thought I knew. Being like most young 16 year olds, I had a very naive look on the world. Everything sounded great in my head, but the reality behind it all was quite limited. I wanted to be an Israeli soldier. Just like that. I had just spent 5 months on Kibbutz Tzuba and was officially high on my country, my people, and my religion. And for the next year this idea stuck. When all my other friends were off applying to colleges, I had other plans in my mind. But like all drugs, the high wears off. It wasn't an abrupt change of mind, but it was a gradual assimilation to the American dream. This transformation seemed to go into high drive this past fall. I spent countless hours laughing with my best friend, became closer with a very special friend who helped me grow into a stronger individual, and I began to accept the American culture as my own. I loved it in America. The people I loved were in America. And for one of the rare occasions in my life I could say I was truly happy. I didn't want anything to change. And in some ways I did not want to go to Israel, but I knew I had to.

It wasn't easy leaving. I cried. A lot. Maybe more than I ever have in my life. Saying goodbye to certain people that I loved a lot was one of the hardest things I've ever done in my life. It was hard to not only see what my departure was doing to them, but also what it was doing to me. I wasn't the same without some. They made me, well me.

When I got here I was overwhelmed by all my old Israel emotions flushing right back in even greater force. I remembered why I loved it here so much and I fell in love all over again. Except this time it didn't take 5 months, but about 24 hours. I'm trying to figure things out. I am not still the same naive boy I was two years ago. I would like to think that I have a better head on my shoulders than then, but yet i still come to the same conclusion. I feel not only an obligation, but also a huge desire to serve my country through the military. There is this other Ulpanist here who I look up to. He is what I want myself to be. He is a 19 year old from California who recently moved to Israel, obtained Israeli citizenship, is studying Hebrew in Ulpan with me at Kibbutz Revivim, and is waiting for his letter in the mail calling him up to combat duty. He, at least what I see, appears fearless and is so dedicated to his decision of making Aliyah. I am not this way. I fear too much. I fear leaving my friends and family for such an extended amount of time to go to a completely new country. I fear not only what will happen to me when I'm here, but what will happen to my loved ones when I am gone. My fear is not based on death, but more of me not being able to serve up to my ability. I can't imagine not living with some people. Well, after talking to this kid, and having him sort of understand where I am coming from made me want to do it anymore. He made it sound so simple. After spending awhile talking to him about it, my mind was going bonkers. That night I was sure I wanted to enlist. I've thought more since that night and have figured that I have no idea. I am being torn in two directions. In one direction is the place I love. The place I want to defend. The place that I see myself being a part of. In the other direction is the ones I love. The people that make me happy. Part of me is there and belongs to them. Forever and Eternity.

But I need to turn my back on one. I can go back to America, go to college, be with some of the most amazing people in the world, continue my life trying to achieve the American dream and live with the constant regret that I didn't follow my dreams. I can serve in the IDF, feel a sense of fufillment, do good for the Jewish people, but also be torn away from my loved ones that I cant imagine not being with and thrown into a country I am not familiar with. I am alone without them.

I'm sure this is very confusing to read. This is probably because my thoughts are all over the place and have yet to figure anything out.

As the Ramones so wisely put it. "Do I Stay or do I Go?"

We the Sheep

It's over and I'm left alone
without the comfort of the known.
With only regrets of the past
that guide me through the year ahead.
Mistakes lay rubble, blocking and
molding the forward march. The sins
are heavy, merits useless, and
an echo from behind instills
the weary. Like stone standing still
we lay affixed as useless sheep
of the herd. The Creator's staff
punishes all. The beat constant.
Relief is limited, but yet
the parade moves on. Always and
forever, we the sheep move on.

Numa Numa Nachman!

Every so often I see something that just makes me stop and chuckle. Something that is so oddly beautiful that it forces me to take a break from life and just laugh. Well, a few days ago I came across a video on youtube that mixed two very different things. The words to describe it is a great, unique, combination.

Here is the link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ywlI5KfbFtA

So first of all, everyone remembers the Numa Numa song that stole America's heart a few years ago. I remember hearing that song countless times. You know, the one with a slightly obese kid (not to be mean) with the obnoxious tune that simple repeats over and over again. And somehow it is quite addictive.

Next, we have the sometimes nutty Nachman followers who use their belief in Rebbe Nachman (whether their belief he is Moshiach or just a wise leader) to live fulfilling lives. They are known for being seen waving flags, dancing, and singing to the teaching of Nachman. Their obsession has lead to one of Israels largest graffiti trend being "Na Nach Nachma Nachman Meuman" (which some believe if every Jew says that phrase at the same time Nachman will come back as the Messiah).

So now we have two very opposite things. Annoying song and crazed followers. The only thing they have in common is both seem to be popular and attract lots of "followers."

So, how do they come together. The Breslav Jews (nachman followers) have adopted this obnoxiously fantastic song to their song list, turning it into a Nachman chant. How beautiful is that? What will they come up with next?

Palestine's State of the Art Weaponry

Yesterday, as a group of off the clock IDF soldiers were visiting the holy city of Jerusalem, a BMW flew off the street aimed directly at Israel's defenders. The driver mowed down the group causing much injury and was shot within seconds by nearby soldiers. After evaluation of the incident it became known that the driver was an East-Jerusalem Arab. Surprise! Once again the Palestinians have found a way to wreak havoc onto un-alert citizens. That is what terrorist do of course.

I understand that car accidents happen. Even those as odd as this. But there are a few things that make me positive no such accident occurred. He was not only an East Jerusalem Arab, but also a member of Hamas. Hmmm. And bystanders observed that the BMW sped up to a high speed while headed towards its victims. Interesting. This has terrorist attack written all over.

But you know I really feel for this guy. He has been so oppressed by the Israeli state. We put him in such a state of poverty that he was forced to drive a BMW around. If only we had given him money to upgrade to a more "classy" kind of car. Our bad. Cough cough sarcasm.

So what does Israel do? We have given in to the humanitarian need to treat the Arabs as equal. We lift border crossings, let them work in our state, drive around, and what do we get? They use what we have given them against us. We no longer are fighting a war with guns and bombs. We are fighting an enemy who takes a car to innocent pedestrians, an enemy who earlier in the summer used a bulldozer to attack innocent civilians, and an enemy who strap bombs to themselves and blow up markets. This is no way to live for Israelis. It's not fair to make them live in such a state of terror that thy cant even walk down the street without the fear of being crushed by oncoming traffic.

Israel has done more than its fair share of trying to negotiate with this beast like enemy and enough is enough. When we treat them like humans and they respond by treating us like dirt it shows who exactly wants peace. And when they take advantage of our gifts, it's time to make them stop. If they use the gift of jobs in Israel to take bulldozers and attack civilians, its time to not give them jobs. If they use the gift of driving to run over pedestrians, it's time to only give driving privileges to Israeli citizens. And if they constantly aim for the innocent its time to make the decision whats more important - their rights, or our lives. To me the choice is easy.

I hope one day we can live in peace with them. Unfortunatly, the time is not now.

"The future of this republic is in the hands of the American voter." - Dwight D. Eisenhower

Finally. 18. The number I've been waiting for my whole life. I am finally accepted into the flow of adulthood. And more importantly, I have the right to vote. I now officially have the duty to express my opinions with more than just words but with an action. The action of casting my ballot in along with hundreds of thousands of my fellow adults. And my vote counts exactly the same as everyone else's. My beliefs officially count for something.

So now lets hit forward on the remote all the way to Tuesday, September 16th, 2008. This date is Massachusetts's State Primary. My first election as an able adult. I am pumped. Pumped for walking up to the table, giving my name, receiving a ballot, marking my choice, placing it in the scanning machine and then finally having my vote count.

But there's a catch. Along with this honor comes the responsibility. The responsibility of carefully considering all the candidates and voting for the one that best serves ones principles. It would be unfair for me to blindly select my choice.

So as I depart on this new routine ritual I must consider who I will vote for. I know very little about the different candidates. Jack Hurd has the clever signs reading "Let your voice be Hurd!" Isn't that great. Ken Donnelly has the red signs with block letters being held up by crowds of elderly people occasionally with an old firetruck as decoration, and lastly there are those yellow signs with a guys name I can't even pronounce none the less remember. If I was going to vote solely based on signs it would definitely have been Jack Hurd. "Let your voice be Hurd" That's so crafty it makes me chuckle. But I need to be more educated when I cast my vote.

So as I walked to the voting building with no idea who i was going to actually vote for I came across many groups of people, each holding up signs for their particular party member.

I first came to the people in support of the man with the yellow signs and hard name. He ended up being Brion Cangiamila . I was greeted by an older women who either did not speak much English or just preferred not to speak. All that I learned about him was that he was a republican write in, and that I should vote for him because "he's a really good guy." That's about all the explanation the lady had to say. This guy was definitely not getting my vote. He might have been a really good candidate, but for all I knew he didn't strike me as being great.

Next I came to the Jack Hurd group. I was greeted by warm smiles and a real desire to share with me. The lady I talked to ended up being Jack's sister which gave a very nice personal touch. Jack hurd is a democrat from Arlington who's main concerns seemed to be education and taxes. If the friendliness didn't get me enough one phrase stuck with me through out my voting journey. "Jack isn't going to contain himself to something that is Democratic or Republican. Jack is going to do what is right." That was beautiful. I was almost sure they had me, but I still had one more group to stop by.

Last stop on the "train" is good ol' Ken Donnelly. His group consisted of no person under the age of about 60. They were all friendly and all, but oh so old. His main issue seemed to be retirement. How the old people could get more money that could be going elsewhere. To be honest, he was pretty much the same as Hurd with the exception of him being old.

So I ended up voting for Hurd. Not that I was deeply against Donnelly, just that Hurd was more of my kind of guy. And who said you can't judge a book by its cover. Hurd- the right choice and the one with the great signs.

Voting itself was fairly normal. Filling in the box. Casting your vote. Hearing the results. Its the journey to the election that really matters.

Btdubbs ... Donnelly won.

Forbidden Love

You're there. I'm here. A seperation ends.
For moments love pursues. Forbidden, but
a path shall lead the past that which has died.
Defeated feelings can't continue, nor
a dead bird sing its warmth. All things have end.
The cycle lives creating, slaughtering
The making and then ending over and
still over again stomping the soul's light.
Connection that was lost returns for the
brief touch that stirred desire more than just lust.
The wanting that can not be, but still haunts
my dreams. The pain that's creeping through the still
empty heartbeat. The love that still lays rest
in my chest like a parasite, eating
away at my being. The blinding of
the wrong. But in the end, You're there, I'm here

Hello Darkness My Old Friend

Last night, as I stumbled into my room after a long day I was greeted by a pitch black room. This is a quite normal occurrence for me and as usual I reached over to the wall and flicked the switch. Nothing happened. Flick. Flick. Still nothing. So now the dilemma. I am stranded in the dark, without the aid of light and still have a few things i need to do before bed. Its unbelievable how light is not recognized except through darkness. As long as I had the warmth of the light, I did not second guess ever not having it. Like so many things in my life I just took advantage of something. I did not truly understand the importance nor did I fully appreciate it. But now that I am without it I feel a great discomfort. Something that meant so little for me ended up impacting my life so greatly.

The light is kind of like my friends. When I had them we were having a great time and nothing could stop us. But I didn't completely grasp the concept of how important they were in my life. Now that they are gone, I am empty. A piece of me is missing. And now I am sitting here in the darkness, alone, without my companions to help light the way.

But the great thing about life is that after this journey through the dark, I'll find the path once again where light still shines.

When The World Spins Without You

This summer has been like a song. Not the ordinary, run of the mill songs you listen to a hundred times and can replay on your i-Pod whenever you're heart desires. But the kind you hear on the radio and gets you really caught up in the moment. As if the whole world is spinning with out you and none of life's numerous problems exist for a split moment. This trance can flip your world around. Well, this was my summer. Everyday brought a new adventure. Whether it was spending hours chilling at Derek's house playing our favorite rock band songs and listening to his Mom tell us stories of the old days bringing to hysterical laughter, or traveling out of the country with all most no pre-planning and still having an amazing time. The friends I shared this summer with were great. I couldn't of had the same experience without them.

But just like that special song, the magic can only last so long. All good things must come to an end. Reality comes crashing down shattering the hopes of dreams. All the worries that escaped you for the briefest of moments stalk your livelihood once again.

My summer is over and I am left with the sad reality that my friends are moving on without me. They are going off to college to pursue their dreams and have the times of their lives. I am not. I am left in Burlington, living with my family with very few friends left to pass the time. As they grow up, I stay a boy. It's hard to know that those you were so close to are off making new friends and almost in a way forgetting about their past. The past you are still living in. I stay awake for countless hours grieving over my turmoil and I have to face the sad truth that I am alone. I don't understand what is so "good" about saying "good"bye. You are left with nothing but the fading memory of the times you have shared. Sure the constant communication helps, but its still not the same. Maybe the only good part about saying goodbye is knowing that you had good moments that are worth saying goodbye too. Life would be so much easier if all your loved ones just stayed with you all the time, for eternity. But that is being greedy. It's not fair to hold people back from their potential and I'm sure that when my future kicks off to a start, I will fall into the same footsteps of my friends. It's important to hold onto the memories you have shared and never let them go. Use the lessons you have learned from them and use them to live your life. As they say, "Don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened!"

So now the music might have ended, but the melody shall live on!