I am just tired enough to say what I think about the flotilla incident and its aftermath. Perhaps I am not risking anything to say this. I suppose this sentiment is non-controversial enough, perhaps it doesn't even have a place in the discussion, to be so vague as to be nearly contentless. But no one said it. No one said it at all, and it needs ( Read more... )

Today I tried, and I failed. And that is a victory, too.

Who could ever forgive me for wasting this year, my life, oh I am terrified at the things I imagine doing to this body I am so furious, I am so scared, Hashem Hashem, Hashem, My God, God of my fathers, I am trapped and cannot escape, I am surrounded, oh God I am sorry, I'm sorry I'm so sorry to all of you Help oh save me.

I'm sorryI'msorry I'm sorry I'm so sorry I'm sorry I'msorry I'm so sorry I'm so sosososorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sory why why why why why whywhwy why whyw whyw hwywhy aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

I am reading H. Leivick's The Golem, specifically, the stunningly beautiful translation by Joachim Neugroschel. (I call it beautiful because of its own qualities as a piece of writing, I'm certainly not a sufficient yiddish scholar to be able to judge its merits as translation ( Read more... )

Travel itinerary > Actually packing

Today, Wednesday, February 18th (24th of Sh'vat), 5 :15 Amtrak train to Washington D.C., arrive at 9:35 Union Station. Meet up with the talented, glamorous and 2nd rockingest babe in the Capitol, Ghislaine Fremaux. (Previously the rockingest, edged out by Michelle Obama.) Enjoy Ghi's hospitality and couches.

( Read more... )

Like most people, I suppose, - certainly most people who have had a prolonged exposure to the study of the Talmud - my inner monologue is much more of an inner dialogue. Sides are drawn, things can even get pretty heated. An anxiety attack is simply one of the many voices of myself making its point by simply shouting over and over. This morning, I  ( Read more... )

.( WARNING WARNING: SPOILERS FOR WATCHMEN, THE BEST BOOK EVER! DO NOT CLICK IF YOU HAVE NOT READ THE BOOK TO COMPLETION! (Also, I don't have anything too interesting to say, so if you're busy or have something better to do, keep walking.) )

I have no elegant or romanticized way to say this, so I will simply say it. This evening, in a horrible fit of anxiety and despair, I took a knife to my wrist. I did not break my skin. I left some scratches that are red and slightly irritable to the touch now. I don't know, and doubt the degree to which this was a serious suicide attempt. I shouted ( Read more... )

I brought two books with me to the diner tonight, around 2 a.m. After several days, weeks even, suffering the vagaries of my condition, a passage from each struck me fairly profoundly.

This from Ms. Dickinson, of Amherst, Mass.

Our share of night to bare.
Our share of morning.
Our blank in bliss to fill.
Our blank in scorning.

And from Ozma of Oz, the ( Read more... )