A rebbe of mine was wont to give 
this pithy bit of advice : 

When you’re Davening and you have blown through most of Shemona Esre and you realise it, almost at the very end…
Dont say- “ The NEXT Shemona Esre will be with Kavana.” Just stop and have Kavana for this line right here, right now… 

They are good words from a great man. He’s on Yener Velt and left me on mine own. 

(I didn’t have the Koach to write it in poem form. If I get around to it, it should be in a Seussian meter and rhyme scheme) 

chaimoigen wrote on 21 Nov 2023 16:25:

Only suckers put hope in the future.

Masturbation: waste.
Porn: cheap imitation.
Acting out: obsession.
Counting days: bigger obsession.
Sobriety: balance.
Lust: chaos.
Struggle: life.

והחיות רצוא ושוב

I'm at a fork in the road. Again.
One side continues straight ahead and looks like a steep incline; the other veers slightly left and appears flat. (The third and fourth have traffic jams.)
I have no patience going up.
I know I shouldn't go left.
Staying where I am isn't an option.
Hoping for the best hasn't served me well in the past.
What do I want?
When I'm bent over with stomach pain, I can't remember what well-being feels like.
I know what I don't want, but that's not helpful.
I want to be productive. To work instead of surfing porn or GYE.
That would be the shallow, instant answer. The rabbit hole goes deep.

So help me, God.

הבל הבלים הכל הבל



That's where I'm at now.

I've been here many times before.

But unlike in the past, I'm okay with it.

It is what it is.

And what it is, is nothing. Meaninglessness.



שקעה חמה, עבים באים לילה עולה מן התהום.



Damn you, Rechnitz, trying to butcher a perfectly beautiful, morbid song.

Thanks for bringing back nausea- inducing memories of singing the original song in an empty Dira, all alone, in a black hazy cloud of numbed  achingness. Ughh 

long time ago…

I personally dislike the words “it is what it is”. But hey, that’s just like, my opinion, dude. 

and what is this “is”, anyways?

Here are my best wishes for a good Shabbos, with what warmth and meaning and good heart you may be able to find. 

Chaim

chaimoigen wrote on 24 Nov 2023 18:12:

Nausea? I wish I'd known the song in Yeshivah. It would've given expression whatever I wasn't feeling.

I might not be able to tell you what "is" is, but here's Abe Simpson expounding on "it":

I used to be with it, but then they changed what ‘it’ was. Now, what I’m with isn’t ‘it’ anymore, and what’s ‘it’ seems weird and scary. It’ll happen to you!

P.S. It's the dude who says that line, and finishes it with "man". It's bad enough what Rechnitz did to the song, don't mangle this classic too.

Shoin, it is what it is.
Or is it?
Yea. Yes, it is.

connected wrote on 27 Nov 2023 15:42:

Yeah, I realized that afterwards, and considered going back to fix it, but I wasn’t sure the Oilam would notice or mind. Ought to have known that you would…

Hey, you can take any rug you want. 

Ogling: turmoil.
Acceptance: serenity.
Breaking free: death.
Giving up: illusion.
Trying again: follows the illusion of giving up.

I am thinking about you. Hoping that the "is what it is" is an "is" and not a "not-ising". Or is that not even a possibility, given that whatever it is, it is? Probably that's what it is.

 

Anyways, thinkin of you.

Chaim.

chaimoigen wrote on 03 Dec 2023 15:21:

In the most "no-ising" situations, it still is what it is.

I'm curious, when you think of me, what comes up (besides yesterday's burp)?

connected wrote on 04 Dec 2023 16:37:

It’s more mysterious and enigmatic if I don’t say. 

chaimoigen wrote on 04 Dec 2023 16:44:

As long as said mystery isn't wrapped in a Twinkie.

With all the talk on one of the other threads about Harry Potter, I was feeling kinda left out (all I know about the series is the soundtrack - I'm sort of a nerd's geek or something), then, the back and forth on another thread reminded me of this cute number:

(I've got my own thing going)

Dear kindly Sergeant Krupke
You gotta understand
It's just our bringin' up-ke
That gets us out of hand
Our mothers all are junkies
Our fathers all are drunks
Golly Moses, naturally we're punks

Gee, Officer Krupke, we're very upset
We never had the love that ev'ry child oughta get
We ain't no delinquents
We're misunderstood
Deep down inside us there is good!

There is good!
There is good, there is good
There is untapped good!
Like inside, the worst of us is good!

(That's a touchin' good story
Lemme tell it to the world!
Just tell it to the judge)

Dear kindly Judge, your Honor
My parents treat me rough
With all their marijuana
They won't give me a puff
They didn't wanna have me
But somehow I was had
Leapin' lizards! That's why I'm so bad!

Officer Krupke, you're really a square
This boy don't need a judge, he needs an analyst's care!
It's just his neurosis that oughta be cured
He's psychologic'ly disturbed!

I'm disturbed!
We're disturbed, we're disturbed
We're the most disturbed
Like we're psychologic'ly disturbed

(Hear ye, Hear ye, in the opinion on this court
This child is depraved on account of he ain't had a normal home
Hey, I'm depraved on account I'm deprived!
So take him to a headshrinker)

My father is a bastard
My ma's an S.O.B.
My grandpa's always plastered
My grandma pushes tea
My sister wears a mustache
My brother wears a dress!
Goodness Gracious!
That's why I'm a mess!

Yes! Officer Krupke, you're really a slob
This boy don't need a doctor
Just a good honest job
Society's played him a terrible trick
And sociologically, he's sick!

I am sick!
We are sick, we are sick
We are sick, sick, sick
Like we're sociologically sick

In my opinion, this child does not need to have his head shrunk at all
Juvenile delinquency is purely a social disease
Hey, I got a social disease!
So take him to a social worker

Dear kindly social worker
They say gotta earn some dough
Like be a soda jerker
Which means like be a shmo!
It's not I'm anti-social
I'm only anti-work!
Gloryoskee! That's why I'm a jerk!

Officer Krupke, you've done it again
This boy don't need a job
He needs a year in the pen!
It ain't just a question of misunderstood
Deep down inside him
He's no good!

I'm no good!
We're no good, we're no good, we're no earthly good
Like the rest of us is no damn good

The trouble is he's lazy
The trouble is he drinks
The trouble is he's crazy
The trouble is he stinks
The trouble is he's growing
The trouble is he's grown
Krupke, we've got troubles of our own

Gee, Officer Krupke we're down on our knees
'Cause no one wants a fella with a social disease
Gee Officer Krupke, what are we to do?
Gee, Officer Krupke
Krup you!

West Side Story! 
And here I would’ve thought it would have been more about the The Lower East Side. Where the Officer in question sometimes ends up driving the Mayor in a limo to a Bar Mitzva on a construction site….