{don't speak ill of the dead.}

the death came on a thursday. or friday, it's hard to be sure, despite the recency. of course i went to the bar right away. there were still hearts in the head of my beer, but i sucked at them like so many sinful suppers. until they formed what looked like wild animals, or birds in flight. blew smoke in my eyes, because i felt no urge to cry. at least with smoke tears i would fit the part of a mourner. unbeknown to anyone around, having no idea what had happened within me. "i'm just passing the time," i would say. "let me take that back," adding, "clearly, i am drunk." as the words left my lips, the situational reality resonated, and rang true. like all the alcohol running through my body, it suddenly clicked, and i felt the dizzy actuality take hold. my head spinning. not to say the words were necessarily true, but simply that i had said them. and even through verbalizing them, the futility of the whole ordeal was revealed. beyond this death remained the false intimacy that i had grown so accustomed to. which before now, i hadn't been able to recognize. the lie that was love, and why had i wanted so badly. pleading with a dead heart. it didn't matter now. what's been said, has been said. and i was not a mourner. i had been once, but that sense of identity was lost. once i realized its wastefulness. days came and went like dandelions on a grassy field. time stood still for two seconds, but in the way of delight. before a beautiful song. before sudden salvation. i did as i pleased. and thought maybe there was a catch. isn't there always some hook. but drawing near to grace, as i stood up on tender heels, and my skin began to clear, i realized no such thing existed in my heart. there will be temptations. but the wilderness is painful. and these are the firstfruits.

{grease.}

this day is spinning. or at least i am within it. i made fried chicken. and ate it. i think that's what did me in. because i washed it down with a beer. which seemed to make sense. i had portioned off this day for drinking, because there is a staff/teacher party thing tonight. i figured it would be nice to drink with the people i work with, break the ice a bit, see what we're really made of. i have to recuperate somehow. from all that grease. a bath is in order.

it's really dark and rainy outside today, which is nice, in a way. spacing out.

{old days. new days.}

apparently, i've reached a new summit of adulthood. the days where i could drink endless amounts of coffee and crash out as soon as the ol' noggin hit the pillow are over. one cup and i'm starring at the ceiling until 5am. so i've been spending this time with music, and reading my old blog subject to change. from when i was 17! it's funny. and wonderfully cute. such an adolescent emotional roller coaster. seriously, one day i'm loving life and in love and excited, and the next i want to off myself. but can't quite ever figure out why i'm so upset. funny how that works. silly megan. i'm pretty sure most everyone felt that way. most of the entries are ramble-jamble, similar to now, but i sound very articulate and thoughtful. i would have a crush on me if i were in high school. but really, God forbid THAT ever happen again. no thanks.

i'm listening to turning dragon again. can't stop. i am also naughtily drinking a beer. namely so i can fall asleep after that coffee. but i've been abstaining. don't tell. i love booze somethin' awful.

i've also realized in my inner monologue i refer to myself as "meg". which is weird, because no one really calls me meg. except my dad, who calls me "megzy". and my brother blake, who calls me "megwah". but he hasn't done that for years.

i should try bed soon. before i start to think about cancer. i can feel it comin' on. tomorrow is going to be awesome.

{gush.}

there is a place that exists in the heart specifically constructed for the love of music. some of us spend a lifetime forming this area, while others neglect it, allowing dilapidation to reign supreme. right now, i want to curl up in that location and take a lucid nap. particularly in the heart of chris clark. i imagine it feeling like the warmest, fluffiest down comforter ever of all time. how i'd love to live there. generally, that's my developed attraction to anyone. some people say it's pheromones and shoes, i've hypothesized these notions myself, however, what it truly comes down to is music. even if you love horrendous music, i suppose it's all a matter of how you react towards it. for example, my roommate, has some of the worst taste in music. but she loves it. and she dances without a care. it's pretty wonderful, once you get past the tunes. but the reaction is priceless.


so kurt vonnegut said,

THE ONLY PROOF [I] NEEDED
FOR THE EXISTENCE OF GOD
WAS MUSIC

which i think is great. music is incredibly spiritual. some will say the brain is capable of making you think, feel, believe anything. which is true. but i can't put a name on any of it. so i'll just leave it at that. i love music. also i can't think straight right now. because this is so wonderful.



also this from vonnegut, just because.

artists use frauds to make human beings seem more wonderful than they really are. dancers show us human beings who move much more gracefully than human beings really move. films and books and plays show us people talking much more entertainingly than people really talk, make paltry human enterprises seem important. singers and musicians show us human beings making sounds far more lovely than human beings really make. architects give us temples in which something marvelous is obviously going on. actually, practically nothing is going on.

but man. tracks eight and nine on turning dragon are blowing my mind.

{whatever it is... it ain't human...}

i've just finished second bath, or "half-bath" as i like to call it. it's when you bathe three times in one day. because it's so damn cold. and your tub is huge.

at school, some kid told me she "only drank water from upstate new york. because that's the freshest water. portland water is good, but the pipes are old." this came to me through articulate speech, only two seconds after she had been screaming about "Buttman" pooping all over some other kid.

i saw four blue jays today.

in other news, i recieved the new chris clark, or just clark rather, today. many thanks to john. and to mr. clark. thank you for making my brain throb with delight and more emotion than i know what to do with. this memory is mine.

{two blue jays.}

last night i dreamt i was in an old, rotten house. tons of people from my home town were there, even the ones i never knew well. it was raining outside and in. at one point i was twirling around in a portion of the room where the rain was most heavy. i think we were trying to restore the home. my friend leo was there. he said something to me, which was startling for some reason. bug-eyed i looked at him and repeated frantically what i thought he had said. "no no no, i said, '____'." and for some reason, i went into hysterics, the good kind. i couldn't stop laughing. a woman standing next to me, a friend in black i've never known, was laughing too. we both doubled-over onto the moldy carpet. i laughed so hard that i drooled on the floor and wiped it up with my sleeve. strange dreams these days. i think it's the cold.

i like to think that people visit you in dreams, like leo. but i'm pretty sure it's just the retained memory of them. but there are people i've known forever who i never dream of. people i've been so close to or fond of. and others who have upset me, i rarely dream of them. sometimes i do, and it's soft and nice. but most times it's very unpleasant.

{tonsil hockey house.}

overdraft fees blow. but not as much as i do apparently. financially speaking. also i can't sleep. which isn't fun. getting paid once a month is vicious. at least i have strawberry jam. as in the album, which i haven't listened to in a while. good girl/carrots still incinerates my brain heart. but not as much as spaghetti sauce destroys my digestive system. word to the wise, i don't care how hungry you are, or how much you love processed tomatoes, don't eat spaghetti sauce like it's soup. because it's not. i tried to convince myself otherwise. my mom called it "dynamite" when i was a kid... i think you know what i mean.

anyway. damn my addictions! they have foiled my financial state once again. but i've made this bed, so i'm going to sleep in it. unlike my literal bed, which is allowing no sleep whatsoever. life is still good. wish me luck.

{the letters you get after you're dead.}

dear sir or ma'am,

we have been trying to get a hold of you for some time. you're lack of response is simply unacceptable. if this behavior persists, we will have to take matters into our own hands. beginning with, but not limited to, subjecting you to the plague. now we don't know if your familiar with the plague, aka "black death," but it is simply no fun at all. so if you like your flesh, and would prefer it didn't rot off, we suggest you comply. we are also aware of the fact that you have quite an extensive fortune cookie collection, and have no reservations towards taking said collection, and hiding it in a top secret location where you can't ever find it. even if you tried. it really is a super top secret place. we are also prepared to egg the front most portion of your home and shave your dog. if you fail to respond to this reasonable request within, and no later than, absolutely not, the next 72 hours, consider your dog shaved. thank you.

with conservative malice,

us.

{don't bring me back. i brought myself.}

i can't make the sounds of my heart.
i'm trying
listen.

{-}

accidents ate the life blood
out of commission
muddied patience wears thin
hungry cats clawing at the doorstep of actuality
politeness lies lazy on the floor
and hopes hinge on supposed promises i made for myself
of ethereal laughter
it comes and goes. good and bad moments equally passing
just like they were known to be
even before they happened
an idea i can't quit masticating
and choking on.


how i adore
now comes the figuring
break after break after break
the math of brass tacks
hearts in the head of beer
bad dreams on sour beds.
better at quitting, safer
more rational moves.
talking in the tub to no one
but my bad skin and sense of security.
catch phrase: i'm trying.
given statement: figure it out.
so i am
alone. is best.
leave no traces. love no faces.


killing feelings with time
killing time with feelings
livers and whiskey.
legs fast asleep from waiting
makes it hard to move with any sense
of efficiency. let's try again
on wobbly legs for the fifth time
deny myself.
tell me i'm ridiculous.
that word has been resonating
pushed onto me like the two ton brick of inability.
baby boy your bad being buries me
but i'm digging up this grave
and baking pies out of myself.

{+}

you cut your hair and made a drink.
cried wolf.
moved away.
felt sorry, stood still, and gathered.
there isn't time for lonely.
and far less time for love.
dance softly on the balls of your feet
before you leave and death finds you
muttering in hotter water
wearing raincoats.
which one spoke sweeter.
it hurts me.
what child will grow to never know disdain.
them's the rules,
you said,
and pointed to a pin that read,
"use your words."
with white letters, it was red.
delivered like an obituary.
breathed into them like the eleventh commandment.
a lifeblood.
a werewolf.
you are the tailor to the five year olds.
a friend.
and they'll forget you.
before you know it.
speak well, be a dream.
don't let the young die so.
we lose ourselves so quickly.
no one can tell at seven
and a half.

{+}

don't go home or sleep in bed.
please, answer phones with caution.
drink in secret. make your music.
i can hear it and it's beautiful.

they're crooked. the whole lot.
old ladies play video poker to the left.
their faces falling.
find him. not here. go
the way you came but better and alone.
you want you only.
the rest fend for themselves.
but how i wished to love you
soft and skin and bone
it was beautiful to me and worthless.


go back to sleep
and look a little harder.
this time.
it's there.
i swear it.

{+}

BFF. we never talk.
and only spoke in simple tones. forgot the middle. i said i'm sure you'll be okay. and you were. so there. give me an A plus. at least a B for trying to help. for being- there when i was, after considering a possible mistake. my favourite thus far. true story. and i mean it. i enjoyed most every second. new boy, what's your name? i told you everything i know. preached to the choir. so i thought a hundred times until i realized no one can actually save you. not at all. don't even try. i swear. they're all liars.


and one more hour. we all bleed dry.
i'm just the one who sees it.


speak a secret lazy
i spent this much
with a lisp. and it's almost over.
please be tired of this by now.
move eastward with conviction.
finish your drinks quickly.
tell the same story twenty-one more times
until their ears are bleeding.
eyeball the crowd.

wait for the applause, your hands hot and steaming.
your mouth was simple as you waited trying to be sober.
start over, a new breath.
i was stronger then.
the life abounding before the fall.
the car was on fire, hands began the clap.
while too many of us fell onto the tracks
elated. whisked away by pirates and guitar strings.
fell through the cracks.
drank ourselves a saviour.
senior members of the drunk elite.
i won't be one no more.


don't do this here. not now. save yourselves. and let me tell you the story of drowning. my mother would insist with a shame in her heart. don't be like my daughter. this isn't what i saw when she was once the ancient form of self she carries now. she took after our bad habits.

message sent to mom:
i love you.

message hidden:
i am at the bar drinking and smoking. pray. i'm still a child. and don't trust myself. some old man named "carl" just gave me his number. i'm still hung up, like you wish i wasn't. for five years. i am weak sometimes. and seem to be doing the wrong things. all the time.

{+}

too many people to shit on. she's so sorry through words and empty promises. to say the phrase "iloveyou" means mostly nothing. wrestling in the baby pool. we both live in expired relationships. we long. and drink to stupid. use the cue and smoke to keep ourselves busy. make mistakes and laugh like lovers. maintain identities. while disliking who we are. i can still smell your fragrance. i can still taste the eggs you made with love. the beer we drank for life.


the next try. i've been bound


the one's that didn't love
couldn't help them to be better
people made of paper

old men won't stop talking
young men playing games
wearing the wrong shoes

lonely women at the bar
telling cat stories
recently broken women
explain their plight
every night.
to the same people
heads throbbing
being christian. being children.
falling over failing everyday.
not doing what's been asked
and counting the places they've slept.

{+}

i was heaven. i am stupid lonely wanting
on the heals of now and nevermore
an end to a craving, the burn so senseless
we were life and loving
now i am living eternal and separate
you can't come with me.
when you don't want to.
you are not my idea. of a good time.
smell the blood in the water.


my mind is a pasture.


goodnight.

{fourteen hours.}

it has been too cold in this house to function like a normal human being. it's not even that cold really. but somehow this building retains frigidness. i took a bath and slipped into bed last night around about 8pm. wondering if i was going to fall asleep, or just rest. i woke up many times. while it was still dark. and after the sun had come up. but with the windows frosted over and my own breath very evident, i just couldn't get out of the covers. my feet were finally warm, and i wasn't about to change that. finally, and very carefully, i stretched my arm out from the covers to check was time it was. quarter to ten am. really? what is my life? also there's a huge spider bite on my leg now. my knee. huge and itchy. my least favourite emotion.

i dreamt i was pregnant a lot. it was really exciting for some reason. my stomach was gigantic, and i was climbing up grassy hills holding it. i was elated. i ended up having puppies, seven or so, and kept them in my apron. while i played tennis.

{dance for me.}

making memories. drinking for tomorrow's apocalypse. it seems like it will happen. i've looked at all the old pictures, and recalled every nuance. who took them. where we were. look, i say, this was this time and that was the person they were. before it all went sour. i'd like to make it sweeter. now we're blasting barry white and kate bush. pounding all the hard liquor. all the beer. and i'm trying not to think about my bad dreams. misunderstanding life. and blah blah blah. everyone has issues with their mother. that's why everyone is crazy. i love my mother. just wrote her a long letter. we whispered in the bathroom. this woman and i making amends towards every little piece of shit that everyone talks. STOP talking about people, you idiots! stop trying to figure all these simple things out with all these sectioned phrases and separated words. make an egg sandwich. this is stupid. you're all stupid children trying to figure out lives. you're all foolish gossipers trying to spell it out for the masses to read, when in reality, you're as plain as a stained glass window. figure it out. what time is it? five thirty? it's later than that...

{letters.}

i babysat Devlin today, the kid i like from school, who had to go to a new school, because he was constantly misbehaving. it was tons of fun. last night his mom Kasha and i went to see Juno, that teen pregnancy movie. it was cute. and since we both only had checks, she paid for my ticket and popcorn, totaling probably $15, tops. so today, when i'm dropping Devlin off, after taking him for lunch with John and Nokomis, after playing with him for at least 4 hours, she pays me with a brownie. A BRownie! i thought at first that she may have forgotten to pay me, as busy moms often do. so finally, after reading Where's Waldo (which i still love) with him for about fifteen, and waiting for her to remember, i finally say, "so, do you want to take last nights movie ticket and stuff out of my pay...?" there was confusion, so i clarified, "for the pay..?" and she said something about how the movie "treat" was for babysitting blah blah. confused and awkward (because i hate talking about pay, which i shouldn't i know, but it's a weird transaction to me...) i stand with hands in pockets feeling flushed, as she walks into the other room, comes back with a little plastic bag and asks how much the lunch was, "oh just four dollars, but it's no big deal..." and Devlin says, "THAT'S my MONEY!" and grabs the bag. super awkward, so i say, "OH it's FINE! no big deal..." and leave, riding my bike home, really irritated. there was no pre-arranged notion that the movie, which was in no way ENOUGH for 4 hours of kid time, was payment. and the brownie was burnt anyway. what is with people. i don't pay my bills with burnt chocolaty treats. weird.

{rework.}

taking back ground.