This world keeps spinning faster to new disaster

"I run too fast
or too slow it seems."
Lady Antebellum



The truth is
that my mouth opens perpetually
while the rest of me is always shut off
I can be kind and happy with my mouth
or sharp
I can make someone feel good
but the instant people want hands on me
the skin is on fire and I don't (can't) like it
so don't touch me, I don't want to burn

I was looking through boxes of books
and feeling such pain
yearbooks are a special source of agony
friends I had, friends I lost, friends who ran screaming
and those of us who just faded...
Hopefully the words I wrote will last to other people
I don't know if everyone has this super-sad-mentality
this far away on this side of the line
I'm sure plenty of people do
I absolutely do not believe that I am the only person
capable of ridiculous melancholy
but regardless of introducing melancholy to the whole world
or if it is just me
looking through my books hurts me
giving away my books hurts
goodbye things
 you kept me sane throughout some of the rougher years
and now that rough years are indeed ahead and behind
goodbye
apparently I don't need you anymore
replaced by virtual words in space.
thankfully stories remain the same
even if they are different
and I have the comics still
with the angels and robots and devils
and people who fell in love and died

My cat likes to sit closest to skin. She finds the part
where my shirt doesn't quite meet my pants and she puts her back
on it and faces the outside world. She'll lay here for hours.
She knows I love how she exists in close proximity to me.
Sometimes when I sleep, she comes and sleeps on my pillow
in my hair, like she's not a fellow bed crowder, but an extension of me
that on occasion digs her claws into my head.
And lick my hair incessantly
and occasionally chomps at my face.
We have a strange love.

I find myself limp, like my bones are gone
when I am with him.
I've pressed my body against his for years
and he his against mine
and I haven't seen him in forever
and we just exchange pleasantries
and it's pleasant, which is the highest of praises
not something I have to work at but someone to simply whisper
the generalities of how life is.
I wonder at how we are so very very different
in our paths, but how we can meander together anyways.
I feel less tight around him
like the millions of ways I am lesser and terrible
like the thousand ways I can't cope and won't let myself be free
aren't there.
I worry sometimes that I tell him the truth too much
that he can't handle it or he won't love me
But he's never been afraid of the realities
and him loving me

it doesn't matter though
I'm always a thousand miles away
have always been.

so pretty

quiet and calming and pretty
thisissand.com

Out in the West Texas town of El Paso

Sometimes you meet people you know will be precious to you forever.
This is both a rarity and an everyday occurrence for me.
(this is why I shouldn't write melancholy drunk-or maybe ever)
The reality of my world is that everyone lives in perpetuity in my head. I have a million stories in my head about everyone at any given moment. I get lonely a lot but I am always full of the words. The words keep me safe but they are so loud sometimes and they don't fill up the big ugly empty spaces.
I don't know if the big ugly empty parts are a part of everyone. I hope they aren't.

Seriously though. Fuck the rest of what I wrote. Drunk melancholy writing is absolutely terrible.

Mirror

"Run away,
I'll just run away like a child from all of them to you...
Daylight fading, I curse the breaking
the day is gone, the day is gone.
Love is bleeding, I curse my breathing
the day is gone, the day is gone."
Sons of Anarchy





I was reading things on tumblr
and someone said something about how the only difference
between now and before I found tumblr
is that I used to stay up all night reading books
and now I stay up all night reading tumblr.
And that is certainly true. I enjoy all the different
views and pictures and funny things and music
all at my fingertips
I can switch between Doctor Who
and True Blood and Teen Wolf
and Grey's Anatomy with a few clicks
I can do my job and paint my nails
and occasionally the cat comes and sits on my boobs
while I'm answering the phone and I can block out the constant
sound of my own thoughts by having them drowned out
cats meowing and starwars going and children going MOMMY
and maybe I'll forget that my inner voice is going
firedyou'llbefired
beafraidalwaysafraid
hehatesyoushehatesyou
don'twritedon'tfeeldon'tdo
the inner voice screams sleep
and cut off your hair
and don't talk to anyone
it's always saying how I am so far from beautiful
so far from perfect
I believe it
the mirror never(always) lies

Gone gone gone (in relation to my computer until monday)

So he told me yesterday
"Maybe whenever a part of the old Megan dies,
you get angry and sad. That's why you cry."

And there the rub of it
that's the cruddy part
how do you get better
you take off the bad parts
and it hurts
It hurts to let go of the parts of me
even the ones that hurt when I hold on to them.

It feels sometimes like the rules are
that the wounds on my back must be scraped
and broken open
and scrubbed until they are fresh and clean and bleeding
in order for the skin to grow back.

I've been watching a lot of Hannibal lately
and I have been feeling so stressed
the knots in my back are here and bad
so painful I can't sleep without help
and even then it's difficult
almost impossible to turn off my brain
the words come and come and
sometimes what's coming out of my mouth
doesn't sound like what I wanted it to.

My computer is unusable for now.
I don't like it. I work and play incessantly on in
and my income comes from that computer. I have one
that I can use as back up, sort of, since it isn't really mine
but I don't prefer it. I like things that are mine, that feel like mine
I've spent the last 5 months getting my ways set and being happy
with the way I've been doing my work and now I'm having a hard
time adjusting. This is a ridiculous thing to be feeling so very put out
by, and I'm deeply aware of that.

But it is just a frustrating thing on top of many many other
frustrating things that are happening.
I will be glad when monday is over, when my computer is fixed
and I can go back to furiously blogging from my own chair
and talking to customers
and being thankful that tax season is waning
and spending time with my friends
before they head out for months at a time.



Mmmmmm.

nergh

"I can't stand to fly
I'm not that naive
I'm just out to find
the better part of me."
Five for Fighting

I remember
how the carpet felt
how rough and dark it was
and how your shirt felt, stretchy shiny material
and it never occurred to me that I'd never have moments like those
with you ever again.
If you read this
and you will,
you always do
(there's that arrogance you always had)
you would say
wow that sounds way dirtier than it was
and it does.

I hate letting anyone look at the music I listen to.
I'm told that I'm supposed to share
that it's a good way to connect
what kind of music do you listen to?
go to answer is always
I listen to everything.
Non specified music lover
I can sing soprano and alto parts
the alto parts are easier on my voice
but 8 years of soprano training is hard to wear away
I can read music and harmonize by ear
Good harmony makes me so very happy
I should tell people that
the music I like must include decent harmonies
these are the qualification
preferably with good stories
I like anything that has bagpipes, provided they aren't terrible
and I love Irish songs
that's a hard statement to quantify
I like to dance
but I can hear a beat in nearly every song
so nothing is particularly dance music to me
my car has crazy bass for a ridiculous tiny little car
but I always always have the music loud in there
it makes my thoughts less angry as I drive
and that's generally a good thing.

blahblahblah new post to go to  because I've run out of thoughts on this one

Trust Exercises

Did everyone do trust exercises
at some point?

There was one weekend that I couldn't
NOT go on that they did them
but I didn't trust anyone at the camp
and in an odd turn of events
nearly every adult understood the irony of
trying to force a trust exercise. So I never did it.

And that's the story of why
I don't trust anyone enough
to fall backwards into their arms
out of a tree.
not even at confirmation camp
not even if god himself or herself
told me to let go and fall back.

And two whole days of talking incessantly
about my supposed faith
and singing at the top of my lungs at a place
who rarely remembered my name
and sleeping badly
did nothing to improve my faith or my trust.
Mostly what it did was make it all the more painful
when a little while later
the people I thought were my friends
decided that we weren't any more.

There are lots of days
where all I can think is that there was never enough
trust to leap out of a tree
or off the swings
or into the water
and that is why I like to read
I can throw myself into the book
and know that I can come up for air
I can trust that no one will try to drown me.