This Public Diary

I am The Author Of My Life and I'm Currently Writing In Pen; I Can't Erase My Mistakes All I Can Do Is Learn From Them. 18• I pretend I know things about stuff and then I write about it•

[thispublicdiary]

I know this is a really dark take on Mother’s Day, but it’s been on my mind. How many children are out there who have no mother to hug today? How many people are out there, hiding their faces today, staying away from the internet world just to avoid the inevitable Mother’s Day slapped across it? How many people are thinking about the fact that they’ll never be able to call their mother on the phone and hear her voice again? For how many people is Mother’s Day the worst day of the year? It hurts my heart to think about it. Today, I am going to count my biggest blessing. I have a mother. A mother who I can call to say hello, a mother who can give a hug, a mother whose voice I can listen to whenever I want. Today, appreciate your mother. No matter how many things you disagree on, no matter how many fights and silences and angry glares you live with…you get the privilege to live with it. You have the privilege of having a mom. I love you Mom. Happy Mother’s Day.

[thispublicdiary]

Big shadow small girl I was walking alone The morning street safe Quiet and people free. Suddenly Appeared a shadow longer than me Bigger than I I watched it grow farther than mine And I grew fearful. I imagined giants of men Ready to attack Suddenly the silent morning Was a warning for what lay ahead My heart pounded And I wished for a savior. But then in a moment The shadow became a person And the fear was gone. It was just a girl Shorter than I Smaller than me And I grew calm. The fear was gone. In a second the worst Was laughable. How often Is the fear Bigger than the feared? I find my fears grow faster Than the feared can ever grow. The next time I see a shadow No matter how large I will think once and again.

[thispublicdiary]

Great Grandmother

Who was she? I pondered that question as the day approached, I only remembered it was coming when it was almost too late. I realized I knew virtually nothing about her. She was my great-grandmother, but all I remember is the fact that I was proud to have one. I spent short days at her house, but don't recall ever speaking to her. I only remember playing in her presence as a child. Yet when she passed, it struck a chord deep inside. I remember sobbing when I heard the news. Now I wonder- why? I didn't know her well at all. I remember thinking - I don't have a great grandmother anymore. I had lost a part of my identity, and it was shocking. Today, I heard stories. I listened closely, desperate to hear. I wanted to feel a closeness with this woman, a woman people speak reverently of. She wasn't wealthy, fancy, or well known. She was simply a good person, who survived hellish circumstances and never thought a thing of it. Her life was more difficult than I would ever be able to imagine, yet she took it in stride and raised the family that we are today. She was a homemaker, and a heart mender. So much so that it is written on her gravestone- Where the heartbroken found a home. I wish desperately that I could have spent a conversation speaking to her, reading the lines on her face that would surely tell a tale she would never think of telling. I wish I could sit with her, hold her hand, and listen. Drink of the wisdom that poured from her lips. I don't like to say that I didn't know her. I am getting to know her still, and though I am broken hearted that she was gone before I got a chance for her to know me and I to know her, I am sure she would mend my heart quickly and gently. I feel secure in my future, strong in my footsteps, knowing that I am following a woman of strength, uncharacteristic kindness, and a woman who is my very own great-grandmother.

[thispublicdiary]

This Public Diary turned 2 today!

[waistdeepinwords]

Dear Nanny, I know that everything that lives must eventually decay, I know that this is the circle of life. What goes up, must come down. What lives, must also die. But Nanny, when you left us I swear the entire earth shook. Or, at least my entire earth shook. I never thought words could cause an earthquake, but that day they did. All it took was 3, “Nanny passed away.” I thought that maybe my mother was joking; she wasn’t. A few years ago when I first started putting pen to paper you asked me to write a poem for you, but I was young and thought that time was infinite; I had all the time in the world to write you a poem. You waved your finger in my face, “One day Nanny won’t be here anymore,” you warned. I didn’t think that day would come so soon, and now I’m sitting here writing poems for strangers because I can no longer write poems for you. I probably would have written a poem about the cards I’d get in the mail for every birthday and holiday that were always littered with stickers of cats. I’d have written a poem about how every time you saw me you would be genuinely shocked at how much I’d grown, even if I had just seen you the week before. I’d have written a poem about the creases by your eyes that I imagined caught your tears, even though I had never seen you cry. I’d have written a poem about the time you played guitar for me with your shaky, wrinkled, hands. I’d have written a poem about how even on my worst days, you made me feel pretty. You would always tell me in awe, “Sweetie, you’re going to be a model one day, I know it.” I’d laugh and shake it off and still you would insist that the world was lucky to have me. Nanny, I hope you know the world was even luckier to have you. I always put that poem off. Nanny, even if it’s not much, consider this your poem. These are my words for you. When you left, the world may have shook, but you left 5 generations behind you. You were not only my great grandmother, but you lived to be a great-great grandmother. I never understood why they used the term great grandmother; I think my mother explained it best in your eulogy, but you were truly great. I know that’s pretty cliché Nanny, but god is it true. Nanny, I’m sorry I waited so long to write this poem. I’m sorry I didn’t call you when you were sick. I hope you know I love you. Sleep well.

Dear Nanny // ahn (via waistdeepinwords)

[thispublicdiary]

I don't know

They say: Be yourself. Don't let anyone change you. But I say: Be honest with yourself. I need changing Most people do Don't justify the wrongs You do unto others With the words "This is what I do" The most important things Don't come the easiest It's always easier to see the cracks In someone else's armor But it's time to be real Look inside yourself Are we doing ourselves a favor By looking past our flaws And just letting others suffer It's not just about the others It's about us too We are turning our wounds into scars Then proudly displaying them It's time to heal things at the source Stop justifying your bad habits Your negative traits and your hating It's time to crack down on your heart Be honest with it all Lift yourself up And help yourself change. Change isn't bad It can be for the better It's time we all took a moment To try it ourselves.

[thispublicdiary]

Just a little something I've been working on..

[thispublicdiary]

I feel like I haven't tumbled (tumblred?) in forever. Which is true. It's been awhile. It's been awhile since I just rambled and even awhile since I scribbled a poem on the side of a paper. But not because I have been too busy for writing. But because I have been too busy writing. Writing bigger and better than I have ever before. Writing something that is truly mine. I have been working on two separate projects that I can't wait to see succeed. But for success they require complete focus. But I am thrilled to be working on them, it means I'm finally climbing a ladder that was so formidable before. I may be on the first rung, but it's the beginning of a life long journey upward and I am so excited. So yes, my poems and love letters may have taken a back seat for a bit. They are never truly gone though, and it's time for me to focus on something a little bigger for a while. I fear not though, I know I will always come back to writing the small things that count when the big things overwhelm me.

[thispublicdiary]

I spend quite a bit of time on tumblr. I enjoy seeing people's thoughts expressed in all different ways, and almost always I respect others opinions. But one thing has come to my attention. Jews are not welcome on this site. Not religious ones. See, I never identified my religious affiliation on here because I didn't think it really mattered. But it obviously does, because I am a religious Jew, and I can't just stand by and watch my nation be torn to pieces by naïveté. It hurts me every time people make assumptions about the Jews. We have been the oppressed for thousands of years, yet we are always viewed as the oppressors. It never fails to boggle my mind. I am a religious jewish woman. I am not silenced by my male counterparts. I get to choose my husband. If having too many children is too difficult, I am allowed to use birth control. But why would I want to limit something that is obviously a gift from G-d? I am a religious jewish woman and I am educated. I am free to express myself. I am happy and secure. I am part of a family that will forever have my back. I have over a hundred cousins, and I love that. And I have never written a more honest post in my life. I am not an exception. All my religious friends and family members have the same love for our lifestyle. Yes, there are rabbis who abuse children, as there are popes and priests who do the same. People who make horrible decisions should not represent the religion they claim they are a part of. Yes, there are men who oppress their wives, but they are not following the Torah. Jews are not evil, Jews are not fat, ugly, or rude people. Get to know a Jewish person before you make crazy and discriminatory assumptions about all of us. If you don't want me to say "all white people" or "all black people," don't say "all jewish people." Humans are humans are humans, and we should all know by now that making rash judgements is never the way to go.

[thispublicdiary]

I have been on two planes so far, and I have never been so tired. I'm writing this on plane #2, even though I know that lack of wifi will not let me show it to the world until I touch down on Israeli soil, and then maybe another few hours. My eyes are shutting, but I just don't want to run the risk of missing out on the opportunity to write down my thoughts as I fly towards Israel for the first time in my life. But my thoughts are all a jumble. The sheer exhaustion and confusion adds to the emotion overload. Is it Wednesday or Thursday? It's hard to really know. My phone says it's 1:49 am, but the sun is shining and I know that on this side of the world it's 8:50 am. I am so ready to laugh and cry and applaud as the plane slides onto the runway. The sheer magnitude of what's about to happen is beyond me. I am about to spend two weeks getting to know my people, getting to know the land I have only dreamed about, getting to know myself. As I am up above the clouds it's easy to imagine it being perfect in every way. Of course I will be a better person on such rich soil. But alas, I am human, so very human. Being in the land of Israel doesn't mean I will be everything I dream I can be. Just like the earth of the land, everything takes work in Israel, just like the world outside of it. But the person you become in Israel is so much more than you can ever become elsewhere. In Israel I will examine my nations roots, I will dig deep and discover a world I only think I know. And while I learn how the roots that are already there work, I will leave seeds of my own to grow strong and beautiful, and remind me forever about that first trip that changed me.

[thispublicdiary]

Tomorrows trip got me like "tomorrow, tomorrow, I love ya tomorrow, you're only a DAY AWAAYYY"

[thispublicdiary]

Hey, So in a day and a half I’m leaving the country. Heading to the beautiful land of Israel, my home. It’s going to be the first time for me and I absolutely can not wait. Being that my URL is thispublicdiary I can barely try to go on a trip across the world and not do some word vomit on here. I don’t know what my wifi situation will be but just warning anyone who actually reads this blog- The next 15 days will be full of emotional, soul-finding, incredibly personal writings. I hope. I am finally going to a place I have only dreamed about. Dreams don’t come true very often, but I am about to have one come into reality. I should be packing. Sincerely, The girl who writes these things

[thispublicdiary]

would you know how to change that whenever i try posting something it comes out double spaced to being regularly spaced? it's driving me nuts!

Never noticed this but I think if you hold down the space bar while pressing enter it makes it single spaced? Try it! Hope it works

[thispublicdiary]

Happy Valentine's Day!

[thispublicdiary]

Angry poem. Love those

You can crumble at my fingertips. You are made out of a mask, So easily uncovered. But you hold on tight. The fear for you is being realized, Being seen under your casing, The personage you show the world, You hope you are fooling fools. Your ridiculous ideas Fill my entire being with anger Because even after all this I'm the one who seems to be wasting her life. This world is so enchanted By your mystical performance You don't even realize That you don't live what you believe. I won't bend to your rules any longer you think you have broken them But you have just built a box around you Letting only people's opinions in. You are so determined to be a type To be recognized as something But all you are doing is thickening the mask Until all you are Is One Big Fake.

[thispublicdiary]

16 days until my first ever international flight :). Well, not counting that time I went to Italy when I was 6 months old

[thispublicdiary]

I cry when I peel an onion. A fact that most Feel they must agree with. The more layers that come off The more tears are cried It's a metaphor. A metaphor so silly Yet so perfectly right, For the way we see ourselves, Cut ourselves down, And then we cry at what we find.