Can We Ever Really Get Out of the Matrix?

See the rain fall down like a simulation, the crackled thoughts on the page. Believing most of our best thoughts come from corner set cafes and clouded conceptions of choice. Which pill to choose the one that’s red or the one that’s blue?

We want NEO so we have to be Trinity, the third that doesn’t equal three because she is him and he is she. Writing on empty, we have no shadow of purpose and somehow the mood slips away from our oracle and we all fall.

Walking in the splashes of numerical light, are we the one or just another agent of the agenda? Who are we? We walk, nothing phases us, not the shoe salesman who attempts to grab our hand at the door, not cab driver who tries to couple us up, and not even the same demons that define us, that follow us halfway across the world and back again.

Everyone in the world can just back off. Sickened by the amount of people who will just use anyone for free work without purpose. If there’s another Instagram post about how life only gets better, then why does the post only make us feel worse?

There goes another snapchat story about what a person does every second of the day like there’s even the point of living a life someone is constantly filming. Does everything have to be on camera? Such an invasion of privacy. How do we humans even take it anymore?

When the clock strikes 9:18am and we are late for work. “You have a problem with authority Mr.Anderson. You believe that you are special, that somehow the rules do not apply to you. Obviously you are mistaken.” (Mr.Rhineheart, The Matrix) Part of a system that we don’t comply to, we, the employee, has a problem and thus the company has a problem.

What’s the point of profit in a world where we don’t grow food to have a meal but catch one outside a pub or a favorite noodle restaurant? “I used to eat there. Really good noodles,” (Neo, The Matrix) we will say as we uncover the truth of the reality we are actually living in. None of it matters when we discover the codes. What does it all mean?

“That the Matrix cannot tell you who you are.” (Trinity, The Matrix) We are involved in a world of our own creation, manifesting at will what we birth to a new day. Tired. We are so VERY exhausted of the constant facade we show the “real” world. The working world, the world that everyone wants to appear to be a part of but not take a true part in. It is a machine.

A disgusting, non-feeling, multifaceted organism that we can’t escape even if our lives depended on it, because our life does depend on it. Our minds are addicted to the matrix.

We are slaves to it.  

Even as the letters get typed on this virtual page, these thoughts couldn’t reach a soul without the artificial exposure of the web. We are tangled in it. Forgetting the dramatic realization that we are the spider that set the silk. Trying so desperately to seek a way out of it, but how?

“The body cannot live without the mind.” (Morpheus, The Matrix) This mechanism of madness is a mental matter and the residual self-image of our bodies keeps us trapped in this prison of perception. Five senses not noticing we have any other ones.

We lose sight of what’s real.

Hearing nothing but endless beeping swoosh sounds of cars.

Smelling the sweet breads that cover up the hints of cigarette smoke and cat piss.

We taste nothing as we eat for sensation mindlessly, because when we touch ourselves we don’t have any feeling.

It’s a senseless place and, “Unfortunately no one can be told what the Matrix is. You have to see it for yourself.” (Morpheus, The Matrix) Because, “It is the world that has been pulled over your eyes to blind you from the truth.” (Morpheus, The Matrix) That truth is we could be so much more than just slaves to it. We could be the one, we could all be the one, to live that truth.

The first day that one wakes up and realizes that they have a choice, is the beginning of asking ourselves, “Why not stay in wonderland and see how deep the rabbit hole goes?”

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We Are Single.

There it is again, that feeling. The unmistakable moment of blood rushing up from your core because you’re knocking on the door, and no one is answering. The only thing looking back at you is an empty page. The white void of just nothing behind the screen but a bunch of CSS and HTML. But here we are, sketched on the page and colored in by a personal shade of choice. “Where am I? What do we look like?” we ask ourselves. Shaken by the sight in the mirror we begin to see, and it makes us want to puke. Something about it doesn’t sit in the stomach.

We are absolutely alone.

We are in our own time and it seems timeless.

We are nobody and anyone we want to be, all at once.

We are the person who answers the door and the one who walks through it.

No one stands in our way. No one, except someone that goes by no one who happens to be someone who is no one, and someone has to be no one. We are that one. We are the one heartbeat that everything is alright. There is no one in the way. No one but, the no one we wish to see in ourselves. It’s the hardest part of growing up, no longer can you be distracted by the constant background of social groups and contrasting characters. There’s just too many faces to really see our own and the mirror gets fogged by the cloud of countless people. Finally, we have nothing to see but ourselves. And the illumination is a dangerously beautiful mixture.

We have become ourselves. Nothing to see here but the chiseled contexts of core beliefs and a brainwashing upbringing. And just like that a diamond is carved from the mines of man’s mental expression. Sure, there’s still work to be done. We have to sand down the edges and polish it off, but at the very least we held our ground and now it’s our time to learn how to make ourselves shine. So it’s not about anyone around you, it’s about you. You realizing the priceless jewel of self. What’s our inner pearls? Can we crack open the shell?

Nothing there but the frame of an opened door, and we are the ones to walk through it. We are the ones to take that step, that first qualifying leap, that we are ready to cross over the threshold. We begin to have immediate doubt and fear of the inconceivable, “Are we actually enough?” No not us, we are no one! No one is not enough. To be enough, we have to be someone. “Yeah that sounds right,” we say to ourselves, and it would sound like the truth, but our wise wide eyes can already see everyone is no one. That someone you see as a ‘someone’ is actually no one at all. We are all no one and everyone and anything we’d like to be. What are we?

A blab of emotions thinking, talking, eating, breathing, acting.

What role do we want to play? Because everyday is a new day do perform a new part in the masterpiece of self-mastery. We can be the magician of this mural and the high priestess of the divine, but what about the fun loving fool? The scary thing is we are that too. We are like that pink bunny that shows up everytime a Sim becomes depressed, we know how to get laugh. Looking like Legally Blonde got invited to a ‘costume’ party for a few stops on this bus ride, why should we care if they don’t know what Halloween is in Israel? The jokes on them, we don’t need their approval. The holiday is already so much like every other day. Only now the whole world is laughing at us because we’re different. And it shatters our self-esteem.

Breakdown all the walls of this house and see that we’re babies. We are the children that are raising ourselves. We may kick and scream that we don’t want to be who and what we are, but here we are. The unapologetic version of ourselves. Don’t worry no one is looking, we are all by ourselves.   

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This is Not New York, This is Tel Aviv.

“Omg it looks like new york” she said with glitter in her blue eyes. I smile at her because, how could I not, she loves New York. She loves New York because she didn’t grow up 40 minutes away from it. The strangely familiar visual changed the whole perspective of the place. She was right, it did look like New York.

But it’s just not New York. The air is different and the music is warming. This is not New York. This is Tel Aviv. This is a city that knows peace because it knows war. This is a type of place that has a tough exterior, but a loving inside. Not that New York hasn’t had it’s battles and Tel Aviv is the land of always peaceful, but something about the side street falafel and hummus assures you of it’s family values.

The small hours wandering a museum of Yitzhak Rabin makes a person wonder why it’s always the person advocating peace who pays the price of resting in it. Why?

The city marked on miracles and misfortune can make a mensch out of a menace. But who else can become a mensch but one who has been misfit? “One can only make peace with their enemies” the Rabin says. I say one can only know hurt by being so.

Just as we women know love because we know heartbreak. We know proper educate because we know how to act a fool. We are both sides of the coin and we argue for both sides of the case. For love, all for love. Love that we will one day be there on that day of peace as one, one of love. And then it rains, then the people say to life, “l’chaim!” As we start to head down stream. The night after the full moon, and now we have an eb to this flow. A dance to this music. The splash sound to droplets of truth, the poetry of going out on a gloomy night. Because tonight even in lit up streets we prefer to be in the dark.

This is not New York, this is Tel Aviv. This is where we know ourselves, because we don’t know what we will become. Where a night taking the one bus becomes the one night we acted like we were number one. Yes the night life is always face up, so we put our drinks down. Why not be young and free in the foreign priceless memories of a person’s early twenties. We have our youth, we are single, and we can choose to do whatever we want. Who cares if Jerusalem encourages us to wear sleeves.

This is the city of Tel Aviv, who were they to know anything about us as we jog down the streets and pass on wearing a sports bra. Who are they to know what the context of our character consist of? We are here to be ourselves regardless of the fact that if we stop to take a breath from running we wind up unintentionally racking up a guy’s number without even wanting it.

No I don’t think I’ll be texting you my name. It’s just too Israeli, it’s just so Tel Aviv. It’s too forward when you aren’t even in the mood. But we just keep pressing on like a soldier. We are fearless, and there’s a proud pace to our steps. But we can’t stop running, and the silence remembers that we are still that little afraid girl.

This is not New York. This is Tel Aviv, the city of parties-parties, restaurants, businesses, and stores. The lifestyle is full of different sounds and beautifully lit hidden side streets. It’s a lotus in a pond and its petals are the walls of its skyscrapers. We aren’t protected by any of the realities of Israel even if all the apartments must legally have one bomb shelter room. Because this is so not New York.

This is Tel Aviv. This is a new spring that flows from the eternal soul to seduce us with sensual allure. “This is the place to be,” a small voice may tell us. There has never been one who could resist the thoughts of temptation surrounded in a such a holy land.

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Everyone Marries A Stranger.

There it was, the thought we’ve all tried to shut down immediately, “everyone marries a stranger.” As fully grown intelligent adults we would love to believe that we know the person we get intimately involved with. The reality, however, is that the divorce rates say otherwise. We don’t really know what we are getting into when we say, “I do.”

Putting a ring on someone’s finger doesn’t exactly say that because a diamond will last the long run the bride and the groom will too. We try to see what our parents have done to make it through the years but most of us in this modern masquerade perform a masterpiece of misery. A series of unfortunate events gone viral throughout the families lines and eventually created the chaos in which we came out of.

All of this comes with smiling pictures in sunny picture frames only to notice a side of a coke addict spouse and a history of infidelity. Where have we gone so wrong in our culture? It seems as if even some of the most honorable American family systems are breaking down in the most unexpected ways. When that one good dad everyone knew as a honorable moral character finds himself with a not-so-faithful-anymore-fling, why even bother believing in the ring?

But call it the eternal hopeless romantic of a little girl’s big dreams, we trust that one day we will find someone to love and be loved by. We wish upon a shooting star, blow another eyelash off our cheek, and tap our heels together three times to ensure that love will bring us back home in the arms of our beloved.

It’s too bad the reality is a tornado has hit and all we really can do is be happy we are still alive after the fact. Twisted love stories aside, when we do finally build up the confidence to lay our hand out to be taken by a real man, and not one from a fairytale, we must know that we are engaged in some stranger-danger.

We may have dated for 5 years or only 5 months but still the probability of failure and success stays the same. Just the other night I met a woman who was engaged and I asked her, “How long has she been with her fiance?” She casually replies two months and she’ll be married in three more, “It’s common in my culture” she added. Sure orthodox jews speed up the dating process and don’t even touch until the wedding night, but did that make their marriages any more or less successful? Numbers say the odds don’t discriminate regardless of what customs we practice but there definitely was something to what the rabbi said today.

It is from our absolute dedication to a solemn vow that makes the difference between romantic inquirers and life-long lovers. Dating to encounter as many experiences possible to discern what fits with an individual’s eccentric energy is a precarious pursuit with no guarantee and the hazardous hidden cost of heartbreak. Is it just best we stop searching, settle down, and tie a sturdy knot?

Devoting our lives to a man we know now doesn’t mean we will be married to that same man in the next fifteen years after time has worn him down to the truth. The question then seems to expand into wondering how to unlocking a man’s inner integrity. How can we find such a key if we are dealing with an incomplete and puzzling lock? We seem to forget that marriage is the most binding contract between two people especially when involving children.The whole thought process makes, “till death do us part” sound more like, “part of our own personal deaths.” So we better choose wisely and listen up,

How does one judge a man’s character only on what he has done today, and not what he will do in the future?     

I guess with Yom Kippur hanging over men and women’s heads alike, we can all agree only an infinite being is capable of having that answer.

Please leave your thoughts in the comments section below! We would love to hear your thoughts and for inquiries email: Victoriaantis1996@gmail.com Thanks, Shana Tova!

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Men and Women: Are Some Sexist Gender Roles Important?

There’s nothing like waking up in the early morning to go to a jewish learning center and hear a seriously sexist rabbi talk about men and women. Sitting in the classroom you begin to get thoughts like, “Does he really think that the world works this way? How much longer can someone sit through this brainwashing perspective? And I may agree that things were seriously messed up back in cavemen times but, really, this is how you see men and women?” The rabbi’s thoughts were that back in beginning of time when survival was the main focus and everything else was secondary, women traded sex for protection against the elements of the forest. Fine, we can understand women are not known to be big warriors with their larger fat to muscle ratio but, in times where we don’t just rape and pillage everything that comes our way one can safely say that women’s goals aren’t necessarily alined with that kind of thinking anymore. Maybe because women are capable of being just as fierce as their male counterparts, but more likely because we as a society are so far beyond that point where war and attraction are glorified things. Or at least we hope that beauty and strength aren’t the only two categories a human can fall into.  Beauty plus strength equals harmony.

That’s been a personal motto to help understand not the combined efforts of two individuals, but the inner spiritual combination of a whole independently functioning person. Sure, Beauty can meet Strength and they can fall happy in love for a time but without Beauty having a little strength of her own and Strength being void of any beauty it is a matter of common sense the two will lose interest. Besides beauty and strength are just expressions of power and they can both have varying expressions of mental, emotional, or physical beauty or strength, and because of this the balance of all these aspects in a person is way more complex than just being strong or handsome. Everyone is given the physical aspects by chance, we are given our authentic features for drawing in a mate to procreate with us and then we are given our muscle make up for the mechanics of survival. Though when it comes to our mental and emotional expression, it is likely that the artistic charm and robust might are cultivated with the learning curve of experience. And when it comes to being wise and experienced, nothing can help an individual learn more than from failure. From those failures we detect our deepest insecurities or better known as weaknesses. It’s true: We turn our weakness into strength.

But once we have this manifested strength it is still not enough to make us whole. We cannot self-actualize completely based only on the fact we slayed the dragon, we have to win the heart of beauty to know we claimed a prize worth fighting for in the first place. There is no point to having all this inherent power without the ability to love. So: We turn our strength into beauty.

A lot of old school sexist ideas are written into the code of our archetype simply because this is a perception us humans all encounter being equipped with the moral virtues gained from animal kingdom exile. We are blessed with the structure to have a society built on love and honor if those in question are righteous enough to up hold those values but don’t let these extreme feminist get in your head: some sexists ideas are in place for a purpose. It is not to say that women can’t be independent or strong, or that men cannot be codependent or emotional, it is to say that with both these two aspects of masculine and feminine running through each individual it is vital we articulate their unique qualities to draw new found strength and beauty.

A lot of what I am saying can be summed up from looking at the tarot cards of the magician, the high priestess, the empress, and the emperor.

Men’s ego are so huge mainly because it’s a survival instinct to protect and to do so, men are based off the principle of power. This inflation of ego allows them to put pressure on themselves to provide value and gain a position of leadership. But in order for this male to gain that status he must first have a talent for manifestation, be resourceful, and have inspired action to acquire his power. This state is rather primitive being that the man in question has his focus on the creation of self: The boy on the quest to become a man, otherwise known as the Magician.

Women’s emotions are so over developed to ensure that they can connect to relationships around them because they are based off a principle of love. This interconnection to other forms of life is bred into women’s character to give them the insight necessary for their survival. Their intuition guides them to to make decisions based off of the sacred knowledge that comes from the journey within. Were as the Magician is to go out into the world to prosper, the High Priestess goes into herself to use her subconscious understandings of emotional power. She sees that men’s power comes from being able to go out and give, so she uses her inner wisdom to retain and receive. She is complex and therefore is both an independent, yet an interdependent character on her ability to create a relationship between the spiritual and the physical. This is normally why we associate women with beauty because it is that relationship with the divine that makes us so virtuous.

Higher expressions of these two archetypes is the Empress and The Emperor. Now the woman learns to take what she’s received and retained and give back, “new life,” and the Emperor takes what he sought after to build the foundation for his leadership chair. Here women are Queens and men are Kings and they rule together. Whereas before the Magician and the High Priestess were only in a romantic mating phase that is trying to learn to take two completely opposing energies of masculine and feminine and turn them into complements, the two now create a powerful love relationship. The Empress and the Emperor give structure to the future of a family or even more ambitious: a nation.

The gender roles are not something meant to be confined to completely but by understanding what traits they express in each individual may we combine both the beauty and strength of masculine and feminine to actualize a holy harmony.        

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