I have flour all over me. In my face and hair and covering the lenses of my glasses. I love advertisments. Commercials. They make me laugh a lot. Like this one I just saw for a furnace, something about how you need to protect your family from the blistering cold. Because what kind of father would you be if you had an old furnace, or a furnace that's not up to par, and you make your children wear sweaters in the house. They children will tell their teachers that their house is cold, and the teachers will say, "Oh yes, little Bobby's parents have a bad furnace, so he freezes all day and all night, I think we should take up a collection of blankets, sweaters, coats and turtlenecks for poor, little Bobby. And maybe some earmuffs and mittens to keep his little appendages warm." And your fellow employees would say, "Why yes, Mr. *** doesn't have a warm house like we do. He's not as good as us... In fact, he sucks!" Then they'd laugh their businessman laughs with their chins pressed against their necks, their collars creating numerous wrinkles. White sparkling teeth. Starched shirts. Stripped ties. Choking them. Yeah, so, if you don't have a furnace you suck!!! Yeah advertisment. I love Oreos... I LOVE THEM SO MUCH! They're great. Not as great as being a musician though. Which is what I'm gonna be. Yep. I'm moving to California. Fuck everybody. I'm a selfish asshole.

I have been doing a good job of medicating myself lately. Yes, yes I have been. Lots of wine and other substances. I've been having to lower my standards however. Which has proved to not be a problem at all. Last night rocked. I had a great time with a few friends, and this really annoying guy named Steve. He was really fucking obnoxious, man. My friend and I decided that it was some divine plan that I'm a Sagittarius and that my name is Megan. It just so happened that his ex-girlfriend was a Sagittarius and that her name was Megan. So he left. For that reason. And it was awesome. Then I found my other friends. And I drank wine on the hammock with them. After that I was really tired so I went to sleep, but only for one hour. I woke up and after that I couldn't sleep. I really tried. This time. I just layed in bed from 2 am until 9 am. Then I decided to just go home and sleep in my own bed. That worked. I slept until 6 this evening. I ate pasta. I took a shower. I rode my bike. And now I'm here. Writing about stupid shit that doesn't matter. I think I'm going to move to New Zealand. Or join the Peace Corp. I would really like to get out of this town very soon. I'm getting really down about being here. I've been saying that for about three years now. I don't want to be a towny. I don't want to be known as someone who is connected to one particular place. Although this isn't neccesarily a bad or boring place, it has nothing more to offer me. There are very few people who I love and trust here. I'd say there are about twelve people here that I love, nine of which are family, and I would be fine leaving eight of them, those last four including my parents and grandmother and one friend. I would have a problem leaving those four, but I still could. I don't know. I'm going to make some tea from "Harrod's" (very good tea) I found in the freezer. And smoke. And smoke. And smoke. OH! And listen to music.

Wrote this a long time ago...

smells like burning skin
hold the match as long as you can
until it hurts
let it burn
until it scars
let it burn
until you bleed
let it burn

searing flesh
this once so hollowed body
this once so hollowed mind
a coincidence of fate
ironically placed
in my mind
my thoughts
my dreams
my world
of hope that comes when it pleases
and leaves every chance it gets
ungrateful visitor
fuck you

scathing skin
blistering bleeding, red
...It burns...
to black
let it bleed
destroying nerves
feeling no pain
melting skin
and I feel no pain
scarred
numb
tired and bleeding
bleeding
___________
forever scarred
and
I feel nothing...


Interesting. I burnt myself at work today, er, yesterday, so it's appropriate. Stupid fucking ovens. However, it is really neat to see your skin melted. Polished and scarred. I like scarres. You can't die without a few scars. I think there's a Fight Club reference in there. Fuck.

I've been snapping a lot lately. I'll be having some stupid, petty conversation with someone, usually my closer friends, and it will turn in to a small argument, disagreeing ideas, so I decide to just stop talking. They however chose to continue, and even if it's just their final two cents, I snap. I'll scream something, and they'll tell me I'm flippin out. And I don't know if that's true or not. I don't know where these emotions are coming from either. I just know I've been snapping. Um...I just read this, and it made me feel a lot better. Thanks Scout...

"meg,

ya know, mood rings are funny things. mine changes color out of no where. it didn't even explain what the colors meant on the package so i never know how i feel. i have to just feel what i feel instead of lookin at this handy ring that i have. i want to know what i feel without having to look deep into my soul. i'll make up my own code:


green w/ yellow outside will mean that i'm all hot and bothered about something. example: mr rogers comes on tv and starts changing his shoes. my ring turns green with yellow outside because i mean why would you change your shoes to go into your house. why wouldn't you just wear no shoes. i mean its your house mr rogers!! come on now.


yellow with pink outside will mean that my favorite simpsons episode is on. ya know the one where they turn into the thompsons and they move into the boat house and then sideshow bob follows them cause he wants bart dead and thats why they moved because bob wrote them letters in his own blood. then the rakes. and the brownie and the chain saw. thats good stuff. too bad it hasn't turned yellow with pink outside yet. i miss sideshow bob. maybe someday


all black will mean that i just got out of the shower cause thats what it looks like when i get out of the shower. thats ring sure is smart.


blue with light blue outside will mean that i am hungry. simple as that


uh oh, better go, its turning blue with light blue outside. i must follow the ring. its the master of me. why did i just write that i think its taking over my brain. mood rings are good must buy more mood rings mood rings mood rings mood rings mood rings mood rings mood rings

love scout"


Scout wrote that to me about two years ago. I miss her. Well, I've run out of things to say again. I think I'm going to go turn off my brain now. There's a bottle of wine with my name on it.

4:55 am.

Tomorrow is a Saturday. So, I'm reading a lot of things I wrote two years ago, in my old blog, and it's so strange. I remember everything I wrote about, every topic, but I don't really remember the emotions that went along with those words. I just feel so nostalgic about those times. I almost miss them. I feel like I have nothing now. No controversy, no beginnings. Maybe it's because I was just such an absolute dreamer then, that I felt I could do or be anything. Now, reality has taken its toll and I won't ever feel that life is suspenseful. I don't know. Maybe I've just been the same to long. Things need to change and so do I. I should shave my head and just leave everything behind. But I can't really do that now. The resentment I had towards my parents it gone. They have become vulnerable people. If I left them now or soon I would always feel the guilt of that decision waying on my shoulders. Yeah, this makes me really miserable. I hate it here. I need some sort of release. I need to be pacified.

5:04 am.

my bones are tired
i hear their creeks and moans.
my heart is so heavy.
that’s so much weight to carry.
these poor, old, brittle bones.

It's funny how depression is a crutch. When all else fails me, or I fail everything else, I find myself seeking comfort in my sadness. It's such an easy place to run to and find. We have quite a history.

5:49 am.

So, I just woke up. Accidentally. It turned out that I had to pee really bad, and my body didn't let me know until it was almost too late. In my scrammble to get downstairs to the bathroom I almost killed my cat. I threw the covers off and sat on them, before I stood up. Dazed, confused and having to pee really bad, I felt this warm, sqirming thing underneath me trying to wriggle away from possible death. "Cat," I thought, and proceeded to let it live. After that interesting ordeal, I decided to just stay awake, seeing as I have class in a few hours anyway. I made toast, (Yeah, toast! [that's exitment, not reiteration]) and got a huge glass of water. I had to use margarin on my toast, which pissed me off. Not only that, but the container said "spread", not margarin, simply "spread" in very small letters at the top. Nowhere else did it mention what it was...WHAT THE HELL! Just tell me what the mother fuckin stuff is! What are you trying to hide Country Crock!!! And that's why I don't like to eat anything but butter, and butter tastes better anyway. Anyhow, I take a huge chug of this water I've prepared myself, and it instantly goes down the wrong pipe. (It's really funny, now, that I'm creating a mental image of what I looked like doing this.) Yeah, I spit water everywhere. It was one of those choking instances where the moment you swallow, your throat says, "No thanks," and you immediately explode with whatever it is your trying to ingest. All this, however, came after my tornado dream. Ah, tornado dreams. If I had recorded everyone I've ever had, there would probably be an Encyclopedia Botanica (?) portion of books on my wall. So, yeah, the entire dream was about tornados, and of course, me trying to flee from them. There was one point in the dream, however, that makes me laugh. I was in my room/hole in the wall trying to kill all these rats and mice that were coming out of the walls. This is funny to me because I lie in bed, probably every night, listening to these animals in my walls. I'm pretty sure they're squirrels (nice ones according to my friend), but, nonetheless, animals, and they are extremely loud. There preparing for something, I know it, whether it's for winter or not they have something in mind. Maybe they're making some dooms day device, or a device used to take over my body in order to take over the world. I must say, if so, they didn't pick a very good one. I won't get them far, but I'm sure there will be others...
So, in my tornado dream I found out that I had this forgetten brother named Lexis, like the car... I called my house to make sure my mom was alright, and a boy answers the phone, I say, "Mac." and he says, "No, this is Lexis, your other other younger brother, the youngest," or somthing to that extent. Anyhow, it was weird. I forgot I had a younger brother, and thought, "I should go visit home more, and see how my family is. I should get to know this person named Lexis that I don't know or remember, but feel this sisterly bond towards. Weird. Anyhow, there were tornados all fuckin day long. They are always so vivid. At one point I was driving down this road, and I know exactly where I got the imagery from. It was a Colorado landscape, the tundra, which I hiked this summer. Tricky brain, I saw right through that one. This is a stupid post, but I have nothing better to do. Now that I've said that I'm out of ideas. wildcats...psshhhhooo...I'm gonna go...
(That's from a movie, by the way, I'm not that crazy)

6:17 am.

?:?? am.


Tomorrow is a Saturday. I'm thinking too much these days. Thoughts are always healthy, but I feel as though my brain is working overtime. Which is not healthy. It's creating an accute case of insomnia. I suppose I can sleep whenever I want, however, there is too much to sort through in my mind. I feel like a computer analyzing information; I'm like a really really slow computer, and someone is trying to download tons of information way too fast. Let's hope my system doesn't crash. Also, I've been sleeping in four hour intervals. It's making one day seem like five. Twelve hours ago seems like a year ago. Fifteen minutes seems like yesterday, and so on and so forth. I think I'm going to have to find a new place to live soon. People are weird about money, even though I practically not spending any of theirs. I don't eat there food, I hardly shower, here at least, and I don't use any of their products. So, you would think that would be alright. I did however tell them that I would pay $100 a month, which, for good reasons, I don't have. Ah well, we'll see what happens. I can live with it.

6:30 am.

4:04 pm.

Tomorrow is a Thursday. I work on Thursdays, so I hate them. It's sort of like the beginning of my week. I work Thursday until Sunday. Three days off. It's nice sometimes. It would be even nicer if I made some more money. Thirty hours a week, and only about $150. I love it. Well, I'm going to go shop at the thrift store, have a cup of coffee, and sleep. Later.

4:09 pm.

4:15 am.

Tomorrow is a Saturday. I'm really exhausted. I just drank about 12 cups of coffee at Big Boy. Wow. What a night. It's funny when I think that working eight hours will exhaust me, and then I stay up for another 5 hours. I can hardly type. Damn. Well, I think I have finally reached that point of exhaustion where theres no alternative but sleep. Hope I can sleep, considering the amount of caffeen in my system at the moment. That's not the correct way to spell caffeine, caffiene...whatever, I can't think enough to care. Oh well, I wish I would get more e-mail from preticular people, but oh well again. Goodnight everyone.

4:19 am.

2:58 pm.

Tomorrow is a Thursday. I'm really lonely. I hate it when friends are out of town. I don't feel like making myself do anything. And I won't. I have to go to work in two hours. Maybe I can keep myself occupied.

3:00 pm.

2:54 am.

Tomorrow is a Saturday. Right now I have this crippling fear of being nothing. It isn't even a fear of being nothing. It's also a fear of settling for less and being disapointed. Which I already am. I am so impatient right now. Things are moving so slowly and unproductivly. I want to be past all of this "transitioning" and move onto what really matters. I can only see myself being something great, not mediocre. I have never felt that way about myself. But I feel that if I am to settle for less then I might as well die now, because that disapointment would end my joy anyway. I want music. It feels so out of my reach. I don't know how to pursue it. So how can I perfect it? How can I excel then? I'm so tired. I'm trying to realize the contentment recieved from just knowing I have food to eat and clothes to wear, but it's still not enough. I want it all. I want completion and fulfillment. I don't mind being a seeker, as long as I know what I'm seeking. I don't even know that yet. So far behind. I think of all the people who have influenced my life, in good ways or bad. I wish I could tell them all. I wish I could say, "You, you ruined my life," or "You opened my eyes." If only. Maybe I will be able to some day.

3:03 am.

12:27 am.

Tomorrow is a Friday. But it's funny that I write that because the days don't really matter or mean anything anymore. They don't really affect me. I can never remember what context to put that word in. Oh well. Stupid English language. I'm starting to hate the night. We used to get along so well, but now it's such a solitary part of the day. (as in the 24 hour period of time) Maybe I just need to be a little more creative in deciding what to do, seeing as I can't sleep very well anymore. And to think, sleep used to be my haven. It was the only thing that could make me numb and thoughtless. And I could always depend on my dreams being interesting, even the frightening ones. For instance, the one I had were I was in a black room, lying down on a large couch, and watching the scribbles on a TV. There was someone in the background stabbing an anonymous person to death. They stopped the slaughter and leaned over the back of the couch. I looked up. "Now, it's your turn," they said staring down at me, and proceeded to drop the knife. It fell, penetrating my neck. I could feel its pressure and the fear in my mind and the sweat and the tears running down the sides of my face. "I'm going to die no matter what I do," I thought. "I could pull the knife out of my throat and bleed to death, or I could just lie here with it sticking in my neck. Either way I die." And I awoke. I could feel the pressure in my throat and the sweat dripping from my skin. I've never been so scared in my life. It was so vivid and real. "Fall back asleep," I thought to myself. The words echoed in the darkness of the room. "Fall back asleep..."

12:51 am.

11:05 pm.

Much older now
Future memories to never take place
Standing naked in the rain
Bud and hope to bloom
But never shall this bud nor blossum
Or rise, to say

Warm bed
No sleep and no truth
Lucid dreams I have
False dreams
Euphoric, however
Old feelings
Revisited
Renewed
And so forth
Time stops
And never shall I be given the chance

Only to see and think forever

11:12 pm.

3:50 pm.

Tomorrow is a Tuesday. I'm angry. Almost very angry. Angry and frusterated. I hate when I get this way. Nothing ever solves it. Nothing ever solves anything. Something doesn't even solve anything. I'm pretty sure that life is just futile, and my goal is to do eveything that I want to do or be. Which of course, won't happen, because even though life is futile that doesn't mean that you ever get a chance.

3:54 pm.

11:25 pm.

Tomorrow is a Tuesday. Sometimes I can't help but feel like such a failure in life. Like I can't achieve anything I set out to do. Then I just feel futile, because life is so short and seemingly obsolete. I feel nauseus. Goodnight.

11:28 pm.

11:43 pm.

Tomorrow is a Thursday. Tonight I began my swimming venture. Hopefully that has a possitive outcome. This evening, my father and I were talking about our culture and society. I brought up the fact that we are constantly over diagnosing ourselves. Let's say someone begins to lack perspective in life. They study and ponder and brew on something that is depressing them at the time, and/or has been for a while. They feel depressed, therefor they are in fact depressed, so the doctor gives them a handfull of Prozac and sends them off. Now, I'm not saying that people aren't depressed. There are those who have issues with chemical imbalances and need medication. But our society alows people to get practically whatever medication they want. For example, a girl I know has ADD, or so she says, she is perscribed 30 pills A DAY. And you know what she does with all those pills? She sells them, to the pathetic, narcissistic "druggies" that are so fuckin' tripped out and self-absorbed that I want to puke. People can't see beyond what they are experiencing at the moment, so they cop-out, make the excuse, "I'm depressed," or "I have ADD," and head to the doctor to fill a new prescription. It just seems like our culture has learned to make excuses for the things they don't want to deal with.

On a lighter note, I know what I want to do in life. And that, my friends, is be a musician. I laugh at myself for thinking that, because I'm pretty sure everyone has wanted to be a music type person at one point or another, even people who are already made. Like Billy Bob Thorton or Jennifer Love Hewitt (How the hell does a person get such a stupid name anyway??? I personally wouldn't buy the CD just because of her name, not to mention that, well, her taste sucks anyway [in my opinion]. All anyone is going to think about when she's singing is, "She was in a lot of Scream movies.") or the kid from the Goonies, Mouth. Was he joking? I just can't say. Anyhow, I am a really bad speller, I was always the first one out in the Spelling Bees. What the hell were those anyway? All they did was lower my self-esteem, and hey kids, look at me now...

12:12 am.

2:40 pm.

Tomorrow is a Monday. I feel ill. Trying to improve upon yourself is so difficult. I am trying to change. And right now I don't feel like writing anything.

2:42 pm.

1:46 am.

Tomorrow is a...Wednesday. Hump day. I hate to be sexual about that day, but it always bothered me that it was refered to as "Hump Day". Oh, I got my shirt with the viking kitten on it! It was really exciting until I tried it on and well, let's just say it was less than flattering. Also, today when I was talking with my dad he said, "Just how much weight have you put on?" Wow, I about cried. Lately, I haven't been thinking about myself all that much, although I am aware of my thigh status. I hate to "fret for my figure", but sometimes I just can't help it (like most brainwashed Americans). Nonetheless, I am getting a sports pass tomorrow, so I can go swimming everyday, and hopfully get healthy. That is what I worry most about. Not so much being thin, but being healthy. Well, I do like being thin, I'm not going to straight out lie, but when I am unhealthy, things fall apart. Like me, for instance, and do I ever.

Now that I have nothing to do things are weird. I have no job, no school for the meantime, and no exact life. It's been making me think a lot, mostly about what I want to be doing right now, which is school, oddly enough. I'd like to be working towards some goal, instead of watching "The Osbornes" all the time (which is quite the guilty pleasure of mine). Right now I'm just doing load after load of laundry. And it seems to be suiting me just fine. I think I'm doing it because my dad said I was fat, and now I have to be productive.

1:58 am.

9:50 pm.

Tomorrow is a Thursday. I've heard that Thursday is supposed to be the most relaxed day of the week for anyone. I guess it may be because it's the day before Friday, and Friday means the weekend. I don't really believe it. I have had many a stressed out Thursday. Anyhow, I just bought this shirt. It's hilarious, to me anyway. It has this white kitten on it, and this kitten is wearing a Viking mask and holding two Viking axes, while saying, "We are your Overlords!" It's a quote from the song "Immigrant Song," by Led Zeppelin. It makes me laugh, and I like things that make me laugh, so I bought it. I have quite a weird sense of what it funny and what isn't. Maybe it's my age, I don't know. I'm glad I'm surrounding myself with things that will make me laugh. I do that a lot when I am depressed about life. I suppose it gives me a little hope when things start to get shitty.

I think I am going to get my Doctorate in English. I don't know why, I just want to. I also think I will be attending school for my entire life. But after I graduate, I am going to travel, and glean. I'm saving up for my sitar, and my tabla. I'll probably have to travel quite a bit to be schooled about those. I am truly excited about them, however. I think about having a sitar a lot. Maybe I could just write Ravi Shankar, and tell him I want lessons. I'm sure he'd do it...

10:04 pm.