a tough one
Every morning my eyes open at 4:35am. The same time every day, just long enough for me to look at the clock, realize my stomach hurts and roll back over. I lay there and will myself back to sleep, back to a world of disconnection and emotions that don't exist during the waking hours. Last night I dreamed about a castle, and it was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen in my life, except it turns out I was standing in front of a green screen. Things are usually not much different from that though- we see the things that feel the best to us, repress what we don't want to admit to the most needy person we know- ourselves.
For a long time when I was growing up, I didn't believe in God. I couldn't bring myself to to acknowledge the presence of someone I had no proof of, couldn't bring myself to love this "being" who had apparently touched so many people, yet left me alone. Sitting in temple I silently mouthed the words to Billy Joel instead of the Kiddush, and dragged my patent leather shoes against the burnt orange carpet in the sanctuary. The rabbi would tell us stories about how studying Torah enriched his life in so many ways, but all I could think about was that it never helped me. It was a bunch of symbols that meant practically nothing in my head and I despised being made to believe in it. And yet, I could understand. Even then, I knew that people just need something to believe in, especially when they can't believe in themselves. Since then, I have tried in many different ways to find something to believe in, something that will in essence, save me. And it's extremely hard, because things are always changing, people are always leaving, and in the end, all you have to hold onto is yourself. There is a poem about removing a straight jacket from a crazy man. And yet, even after they remove it, the man still continues to hug himself. He is not crazy, not angry, not confused. He is lonely, and I find that the saddest thing of all.
For a long time when I was growing up, I didn't believe in God. I couldn't bring myself to to acknowledge the presence of someone I had no proof of, couldn't bring myself to love this "being" who had apparently touched so many people, yet left me alone. Sitting in temple I silently mouthed the words to Billy Joel instead of the Kiddush, and dragged my patent leather shoes against the burnt orange carpet in the sanctuary. The rabbi would tell us stories about how studying Torah enriched his life in so many ways, but all I could think about was that it never helped me. It was a bunch of symbols that meant practically nothing in my head and I despised being made to believe in it. And yet, I could understand. Even then, I knew that people just need something to believe in, especially when they can't believe in themselves. Since then, I have tried in many different ways to find something to believe in, something that will in essence, save me. And it's extremely hard, because things are always changing, people are always leaving, and in the end, all you have to hold onto is yourself. There is a poem about removing a straight jacket from a crazy man. And yet, even after they remove it, the man still continues to hug himself. He is not crazy, not angry, not confused. He is lonely, and I find that the saddest thing of all.