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Try to see it my way,
Do I have to keep on talking till I can't go on?
While you see it your way,
Run the risk of knowing that our love may soon be gone.
We can work it out,
We can work it out.

~ "We Can Work It Out" -- The Beatles

What is a compromise? It is a concession, when both sides agree to meet in the middle, and both parties are satisfied with the result. A compromise involves effort and some degree of sacrifice from both sides.

Think of what you're saying.
You can get it wrong and still you think that it's all right.
Think of what I'm saying,
We can work it out and get it straight, or say good night.
We can work it out,
We can work it out.

Why is it then that when people suggest making a compromise, what they are really implying is that the other person should be the one to compromise? When has compromise become something the other side should do? Is it not supposed to involve both parties giving something up in order to agree on the middle road, to get a fair result? Why then does 'working it out' mean that you expect the other person to 'think of what you're saying' and see the situation from your point of view, while having to abandon his/her own? Why is it that you expect the other person to give up his/her own opinion in favor of yours, while you do not even consider looking at the matter from his/her position?

Life is very short, and there's no time
For fussing and fighting, my friend.
I have always thought that it's a crime,
So I will ask you once again.
Try to see it my way,
Only time will tell if I am right or I am wrong.
While you see it your way
There's a chance that we might fall apart before too long.
We can work it out,
We can work it out.

How are you working it out if you are depriving the other person of a personal opinion or a fair chance? How is it compromise if you are not willing to give anything up yourself? You are telling the other person, "while you see it your way, there's a chance that we might fall apart before too long," but what about you? Have you ever considered how that applies to you too? That while you only see it your way and ask your partner to constantly compromise, you are the only ruining the friendship, relationship, marriage?

A compromise goes both ways, and the best way to compromise is by starting with yourself -- by showing that you are willing to give something up in order to make the other person happy, and then perhaps that will encourage the other person to give something up too, so that both of you can come to a fair, mutually satisfying conclusion. You must take that first step; you cannot demand it of the other person and then refuse to budge an inch yourself. Both parties must be involved in the agreement, and both must accept the conditions and give up certain things.

That is compromising.

I got this from Material Maidel. The goal is to answer the following questions using song titles from a single artist without repeating any. This is especially fun when you have in mind an artist or a band that released many songs and has a wide and interesting selection to choose from.

So, here it is:

Pick your Artist:
Michael Jackson

Are you a male or female:
Liberian Girl

Describe yourself:
PYT

How do you feel:
Speechless

Describe where you currently live:
Earth Song

If you could go anywhere, where would you go?:
Stranger in Moscow

Your favorite form of transportation:
People Make the World Go Round

Your best friend?
My Girl

You and your friends are:
Unbreakable

What's the weather like:
Ain't No Sunshine

Favorite time of day:
Break of Dawn

If your life was a TV show, what would it be called:
The Greatest Show on Earth

What is life to you:
You Are My Life

Your relationship:
We've Got a Good Thing Going

Your fear:
Blood on the Dance Floor

What is the best advice you have to give:
Heal the World

Thought for the Day:
They Don't Care About Us

How I would like to die:
Die Another Day

My soul's present condition:
Happy

My motto:
What Goes Around Comes Around

I happened to look out the window an hour or so ago, and I saw that half of the sky was turning different shades of pink, while the other half was already a deep, dark blue, as the night was advancing.

It just struck me that I barely distinguish between sunrise and sunset these days. I observe both, and it is just something that happens. It does not indicate a certain time to me or mean much, other than that the lighting is different. Last night, as I looked out of my window before falling asleep, I saw that the sky was already rapidly lightening and I heard birds beginning to sing their morning songs. One night, as I was ready to allow sleep to overcome me, a sound pierced the silence of the night. Chirp, chirp. As the bird's voice broadcasted loudly into my room, I thought to myself, "Oh no, you have got to be kidding. Please don't do this now." Seriously, those birds start being vocal as early as 5 AM.

It has been this way since Motzei Shabbat, and despite my attempts to change this schedule, it seems to be stubbornly fixed into place for now. (We will see what effect Israel and the different time zones will have on this.)

There is something about nighttime that I have always loved. It seems to bring out my creativity, and it intensifies all of my thoughts and emotions, which translates wonderfully into writing. I remember when I was fourteen, and I was working on my first book, I stayed up every night past 3 AM and wrote pages and pages, because that was just when the inspiration seemed to come to me. And the past few nights have been no exception. I have many pages of writing to show for this past week, and most of it was the result of a sudden urge to express something I was feeling. I actually quite like some of the poetry that has come from these sleepless nights.

Thoughts just strike me, like lightning, and they remain impressed on my mind until I give them an outlet and write them down. When ideas come to me, I feel as though I cannot just ignore them, even if is what I would normally do during the daytime. At night, they somehow feel more significant, and I feel I must record them. So I got into the habit of keeping a notebook next to my bed, and whenever the urge strikes me, I pick it up and begin to write in the darkness, completely missing the lines and unable to dot my i's and cross my t's. But it works.

This actually reminds me of some Phantom of the Opera lyrics....
"Nighttime sharpens, heightens each sensation
Darkness stirs and wakes imagination."

Last night, as I was trying (in vain) to fall asleep, I heard an airplane or a helicopter flying somewhere in the distance. And... it made me think (no surprise there).

I have only been on an airplane four times in my life -- to and from Israel (when I was four and was completely traumatized by the experience), and to and from California (a couple of years ago). One of the most fascinating parts of the California vacation, for me, was the plane trip. I just loved looking down and seeing these mini-towns below me, almost like doll cities. On our red-eye flight back to New York, I saw the lights of Los Angeles twinkling below us amidst the darkness. It was delightful.

From an airplane, the world below you seems like nothing. The people are too small and too far away to really matter, and when we see that one town below us, its inhabitants seem so insignificant to us. At first, they are mere specks, and then they become invisible, and their houses become mere specks, until finally, the entire town becomes a mere speck from your perspective.

Is it not amazing then that G-d, who sees the entire world below him, all those countless specks, cares about and watches over every single one of us? Although there are millions of us, all these tiny little ants, He still sees us as individuals, and nobody escapes His notice?

People sometimes ask, "Where were you and what were you doing when the Twin Towers fell?" Some even ask the same question about the death of Princess Diana. I was too young when she died to even know about it, but I clearly remember what I was doing as the airplanes crashed into the Twin Towers on 9/11. I was sitting in school, in my fourth grade classroom. A couple of girls were picked up by their mothers, which obviously aroused our curiosity. One girl asked me to pass a note to some other girl sitting next to me, and I was waiting for an opportune moment when the teacher's back was turned. Then, the intercom crackled, and I was told to go to the office because my mother was picking me up. I hastily handed the note to the intended recipient, earning a glare from the teacher, and I rushed downstairs. As my mother and I were walking home, she explained what had happened to me. Back then, Manhattan seemed so far away, and I did not feel the full impact of the event. Once I got home, I realized just how major it was when I turned on the TV and was greeted by images of the falling buildings on every single channel.

There are many such historical events that are later vividly remembered and recounted. The most recent was Michael Jackson's untimely death and the speculation that followed.

I was sitting at my computer, probably blogging or checking my email, when my mother passed by me and remarked that Michael Jackson just died. I held back my surprise, and silently did a Google news search. Various sources had different stories. Some said he went into cardiac arrest and was currently being treated at the hospital. Others claimed that he was in a coma, but was still alive. And then, there were those who reported that he died that very hour. Online journalism is a strange thing; you never know which story to believe and which to carelessly toss aside. One of my friends then called me to ask if it was true; I did not really know what to say. But within a couple of hours, it was confirmed that Michael Jackson had died.

At first, I was a bit in shock, and it took a while for it to sink in. Every single time I went to my Google or Yahoo homepage, I saw headlines about his death, and I was reminded of it over and over again.

I first started listening to his music when I was eleven or twelve. I still remember sitting at my computer and listening to those songs while flashes of color danced before me on the media player's background. Even more than that... I remember the smell of air freshener in the room, which was later associated in my mind with Michael Jackson. His CD was one of the first I ever got, and back when I only had three CDs, I would play his over and over again.

It is sometimes funny to see what you remember from the past. Very often, I find myself thinking about some very random, minor memories that are seemingly insignificant, and I don't usually understand why it is indelibly stamped on my mind. I remember when I was twelve and I went to sleepaway camp for the first time. It was the summer after sixth grade. We went on a trip to an amusement park, and the ride back was late at night. I was very tired after an exhausting day out in the sun, and it was dark in the bus, so I put on my headphones and thought of resting a bit. I ended up falling into a semi-conscious state to the sounds of Michael Jackson's music. I still remember hearing those songs as I was falling asleep; they sounded as if they were coming from underwater.

As the years passed by and I discovered other artists and bands, I started listening to his music less and less. When he disappeared after being acquitted a few years ago, I stopped following him. I mean, if I saw news articles about him, I would check them out, but I just did not really care that much anymore, to be honest.


And now, I just can't help but think about it.

I walked past a newsstand today, and his face was everywhere. He was on the cover of almost every magazine, and there were dozens of headlines screaming out at me about his career, the mark he left on pop, his life, the scandals, the rumors, and his death. I took a good look at the sight before me, and just stood there for a couple of minutes, taking it all in.

Fifty years from now, I might tell my grandchildren about it.

* When talking about music, people often mention sound quality. It is an important piece of information when you are looking to buy headphones or speakers. As I was listening to some vinyl records recently, it just came to my mind that crystal clear sound quality is so overrated. Those records have a certain magic that just cannot be replaced by modern technology.

* During finals, I somehow got into a conversation with a girl that I had not really spoken to in years. We were never what you would call 'friends,' but at the same time, there were no negative feelings between us. We were just classmates who would probably say, "Hi, how are you?" if we met each other on the street, and the conversation would stop at that. I never really got to know this girl, but I did know that her closest friends in junior high school were very immature, rude, tactless, and self-centered. That image kind of stayed with me even as we all grew up and became high school students. But as we talked a few weeks ago, I realized my mistake in grouping her together with her friends. From our short talk, I understood that she was actually quite mature (for an eleventh grader, at any rate), and we had some common goals in life. I doubt we will ever become close friends, but I am glad to see I was mistaken about her personality. One of the things I realized after that incident was that many people do judge you based on your friends. The people you spend time with do, in a certain way, reflect on you.

* Most people have had, at some point or another, that nightmare in which you try to escape and you tell yourself to run, but you are paralyzed. Something holds you in place (perhaps it is even your fear). You find that it is impossible to flee, because your feet refuse to cooperate. You feel helpless, rooted to the spot like that as you sense some danger steadily advancing on you. Sometimes you have that same feeling in real life. You can physically run, but mentally and emotionally you cannot escape.

Are any of these things something others experienced too? Feel free to share and discuss.