What if we all just suppose that we are happy, when truly in our souls we aren't? We lack. What if the happiness that we "have" is just an illusion, only a state of mind, and we don't truly posses it. But there is a purer joy and true happiness, if only we could grasp it. If only we could taste it. We would never let go, because there wouldn't be anywhere else to turn. Once that truth is found, why would you want to venture anywhere else? How would that be beneficial at all? It just simply wouldn't. Because what else could fill you? People are always striving, always yearning for that joy that fulfillment that ultimate feeling of gratification, but they can't ever find it. They can't ever see it until they don't focas on it. And when they don't focas on it, all will fade away, and the intense, naked truth will be exposed. They'll find what they are looking for, and they will finally see. Pure zen. An ultimate state of nirvana. It makes sense. Or at least to me. I think that the hardest thing to do...is just let go...

Well, another day another dollar.
Here I sit. In this room they call the "Library" or for those of you who might be offended by that, we can call it the "Media Center". But I have respectively decided to refer to as the "Book Hold".

I think that I can almost see. Or maybe I can. But I realize that there is a filter over my vision. Or even simply a glaze over my thoughts. Hence, I can't figure anything out. Everything is smudged and smeered, and I can't make out what I am thinking due to the lack of focas on a situation or circumstance. Hmmm... Maybe I am just seeing what I choose to see. People do that often. It isn't healthy. But consider someone who is tired of feeling pain, and they know the truth, and they also know that the truth hurts more than any other pain. This person sees what they want only because they know that accepting the truth is like accepting the pain, and who wants to accept pain? They only find a way out by ignoring the truth, even though the truth is what shall eventually set them free from the bondage of the numb pain that they feel on a day to day basis. I know that there isn't a reason to ignore reality, and shun the truth, but you have to understand that I can't accept the truth because I can't hurt anyone. I can't inflict pain onto another human being another soul another spirit. I can't crush someone's spirit. What sort of a person would that make me? Altruism is the act of being selfish on someone else's behalf. I have found that this is the only option that I have. The only option that will keep other's happy. And though I will be the one suffering, I still see that as a better sacrifice. It's poem time...



A Glass of Pain

A glass pain
It is all that separates you from the rest of the world
Look at the rain
It falls on the sheet of transparent imprisonment
And you debate
Whether or not it is your friend or foe
Deciding
If it holds you or if it gives you hope
Taunting or reminding
It holds you
It treats you like a prisoner
On the verge of destruction
It shows you
The world you left behind
It calls you
Out into the open, into the light of day
And with every breath on the glass
You feel like the air is sucked out of the room
And the pain catches it for you
And gives it back.



It isn't a very good poem, but it isn't all that bad, I suppose.

Well, hot-damn!
It's me birfday.

Thanksgiving was alright. My Aunt Anna has been confirmed crazy, by myself of course. I have been really spontaneous lately. Really crazy. On Saturday night, I was walking into town...ya that's right...and I was chased by these drunkard college guys, and I was so scared! They stopped in the middle of the road, where I was, and so I decided that the nearest house was now "my house". So, I walked up to it, and was about to ring the door bell because they opened the door, and were hooting and hollering some drunken gibberish. But as I was going to do it, they stumbled back into their Drunk-mobile and left. So, I just went back home. I have never been so frightened in my life...well, I probably have, but no time recently.

I used to be the best kid. I was such a smart, funny, diligent, studious, respectful, cute, well-behaved child. What happened. I find myself drinking much more, and whenever I feel stressed out, or depressed good ol Mr. Marlboro seems to be there to comfort me. I sneak out of my house all the time, not to go anywhere imperticular. I am loosing my grasp on reality. I can't feel my mind. I want to either die or leave this town. But I am too much of a puss to complete either. That's rich. I feel distant. I was looking in the mirror the other day, and my eyes aren't how they used to be. That saddens me. I used to have such pretty eyes. I wish that I could find some sort of medication in this madness. Why have things become so obscure to me lately. Can anyone explain? Because I know that I can't. Radiohead has been helping.

"...Like a cat, tied to a stick..."

I have this dream. It's crazy. But I can't tell any of you what it is. Because that would ruin it...

My biggest fear is drowning.
I am drowning.
Drowning a a stale pool of my own self-inflicted misery...
I cause myself and others so much grief.
And the only aspect of my world that I depended on, my emotions, have left me dangling,
reaching for help, stretching to grasp a hand that isn't there, weeping to someone, anyone.
And when I said anyone I thought I knew what I meant,
but it turns out that it wasn't just anyone.
Where did my heart go?
Where did my emotions lead me to?
I have never felt so betrayed and yet I, too am the betrayer.
Where did I go?
I think that life's borders end at love.
Love can eliminate life.
Or the lack there of.
I can't find peace anymore.
Everything is only temporarily pacifying.
As my hopes and dreams crumble,
So do I
I am so tired...
And all I want to do right now is
Sleep...

I find that no matter how hard I look for myself
I always end up in the same place
More tangled up in me
More engulfed by my own insecruities
More swallowed by my own fears
And more drownded in my own sorrow
When all I thought that I wanted
Was to be touched
I just wanted for someone to pull the reigns of my heart
And hold me in their arms
But if I have found anything
It is this...
That I need to be held
And I need to be touched
But I cannot be reached through human feeling
Nerves
Skin on Skin
Hands
I need words
I need you to whisper in my ear
I need you to write
I need you to write down on a page
Exactly what you think
Exactly what you feel
All of those emotions
All that burns inside you
...And breath...
Breath them into me like the wind
Like the breeze
Like air to my lungs
It helps me live
It is my life
That alone is what I live for
And that alone is what I die for
Just you and your words
Just you and your flowered phrases
In my mind
In my heart you grow
And I see you!
And I know you!
And I feel you!
But you aren't there...
Your face just grows here
While I grow here as well
I am the product of your love
I am the essense of your words
And you are the essense of my thoughts
And desires
And love...

Chris,
I can see it.
I can see the waves.
I find myself now, sitting, staring, for the past five minutes or so at this...
I look beyond the blinds and I look beyond the trees, and I can see it.
It is so surreal. So unnatural. Like it's not even there. Like I am the only one in this room that can see it.
It is funny to me how people can see things, that others cannot.
Now it won't go away, and it is captivating. Looking beyond aspects of life, circumstances, realities, is so intriguing.
I love it.
And it won't go away...

Ich schließe meine Augen. Zu entgehen. Aber wenn meine Augen geschlossen werden, sehe ich ihr Gesicht. Im Auge meines Gemüts. Sie verlassen nie mich. Abwesenheit macht das Herz zärtlicher wächst. Es ist wahr...

Der ikke er noen smerte som vÆrer stor i liv. Men I kan kan drømme. Og I kankan føle. Og tror megmin kjærlighetI gråter. Fordi det skader derfor mye innsiden...to vet at I ikke kan kan holde De i mine armer. Det er all I behov. Det er all I ønske. Deres kropp ved siden av min. Deres berøring. Deres ord. Hvisk dem inn i mitt øre. Fordi De smelter meg. De smelter meg.

I don't understand why I realize that I have so very much work to do, and yet I still find myself here...bloggin' it up. So, l find that I am not very good at reading poetry to a large crowd of people. I actually have realized that when I have to read anything in front of a mass of people, I choke up for the most part and shake uncontrollably. Which is disheartening. The only aspect of my writing that allows me to actually speak, is the passion behind the poem. I thoroughly enjoyed my poems though, and I hope that everyone else did as well. It is very hard to read something that is so dear to my heart in from of your friends. I felt exposed...vulnerable. That poem was my heart...on a sheet of paper. Nothing that should be taken so lightly.

On a lighter topic-

Way to not come to the library, Chris. I stood outside the door for literally about 5 minutes, just staring at you...waiting for you to look over so that I could tell you to come down to the library. But you just sat there staring, looking tired, and fatigued. Not to mention bored. Actually, to be honest, you looked very deep in thought. Like you were pondering something serious. Hence, why I didn't say your name for a while. Lindsay Boltz now officially thinks that I am crazy. She kept staring at me...and then staring at you...and back to me. It was humorous.

Side note...

This girl that I don't really know just walked past me and said, "Your hair is so pretty." Then she grabbed a lock of it, and left me rather frightened. You would think that I might be used to it by now...but no... The other day I was in the bathroom, and I was looking in the mirror, and this girl just came over, touched my hair, and said, "So, ya, have you ever cut your hair? Why is it so long? Was it ever short?" Talk about unnerving. Nobody's safe these days. Nobody I tells ya!
Anyhow, Lauren's birthday is this weekend, and whosoever of you reads this must know that we have to do something for her. Misty wanted to take her out to dinner on Saturday, I believe. So, any-a yous guys who wants to come...do. Actually, call me, and we will figure something out.

Another side note-

I hate scrunchies. They irritate me like mad...

Anyhow, yes, this Saturday - be there. I think that Misty wanted to take her to Chi-Chi's. It will be Chi-chi-a-rific!!! And if anyone was to get her a gift...which if you did she would be overjoyed and not to mention love you forever - because she loves - I mean loves gifts. And also she would want CDs, if anyone was to get her anything...just so that you are all informed...
Anyhow, I love you all...especially you Paige...
I mean - you all have a great day. I appreciate all and everyone of you.

Love forever and always.

Megan.


Moral of the day:

Be a team player.

I dream of the day that you know more to me than just my name.
A hope builds up in my heart that you will see me,
Notice me,
And will some day know me.
And I can know you.
And I can feel you.
Touch you inside and out.
We can be one,
You and I,
In this painful world,
We can be one person.
Because it has occurred to me that we already are.
We just need to find each other.
Or, at least, rediscover one another.
Then there will be a truth.
There will be a reality.
That neither can handle.
But both so passionately desire.
Our hearts bound together.
And I can hold you
Once and for all.

It is so bleak out.

The sky is dark, and the trees that lonesomely loam outside the window are calling me...
The wind blows, and a ghostly hum breaths through the cracks in the window pane. It is dreary. My life is drained when I am alone. I finally find the time to dwell on the thousands of thoughts, the thousands of questions, the thousands of pains that engulf my mind. I am truly not alone. These thoughts haunt me. They absorb me. They work their way under my skin, and crawl around, making me as uncomfortable as they possibly can. Intentionally inconsiderate. Maybe the lonesome trees that sway and I will find a solace together. We can find a peace in the emptiness. Because of our mutual understanding.
So I sit in the rain. Incoherent. Emotionally numb. Because my mind will not allow me to rest.

I sit.

In the rain.


Numb...

Where did you go, my friend?
Where did you leave your heart?
Because these days your eyes look tired,
And your smiles have faded.
I remember your eyes...
I remember...
You loved life,
And found the time to live it.
All those days where you laughed.
Play in the rain with me...
Sleep in the sand...
Love what you have,
And know that it will get better.
You are too precious of a person
Too precious of a spirit
To leave
Or fade.
So be here-
With me,
And live...

A little bit of rain won't hurt
A little bit of sun
To shine on me
It lets me see
That together we are one

Some sleep to cure insomnia
Some tears to rinse my eyes
Your hand to hold
To warm my cold
And I see the silver skies

A few leaves float to the ground
A few drops of rain that fall
Onto my face
Let's leave this place
And I am comforted after all.

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

I have ahd 5 hours of sleep in the past 50 hours. It's 2:45 on Sunday morning. If you get my drift. I must sleep. I feel all alone.