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Meghan
04 January 2012 @ 02:06 pm
Well, I haven't updated this in something close to forever. Craziness.

I'm sitting in Shark River Hills listening to Greg snore after a particularly awesome night of trivia, which we won, of course. My life has changed dramatically in 6 months. I'm single. Since June 16. What a terrifying journey it's been. 9 years just...gone. By my own hand. I miss him. I still love him as a person, but it'd been over for quite some time.

Work still sucks. I'm getting thru it.
School is dragging.
And that's really all there is.
 
 
Meghan
11 June 2011 @ 05:17 am
I am often surprised by you:

You've a need to protect thta extends beyond what you desire and into the opposite sex. It's scary. It's endearing. I'm in tears.
You and I just spent 2 hours on my couch playing trivia games, laying head to head, touching each other intimately without the pretenses of intimacy. No kissing, No embarrasing outpour of emotion. Ask questions, yes, but shoot first and ask them ater.
Senior year was a war zone.
You made sure I had a beer if I needed one. You laughted at all the right moments and sighed when I did. Why, in all the world, should my male counterbalace be gay? Is it because I'm bisexual? Maybe he's not just gay. Maybe he is bi.
That's false hope though. That means I could have a future with him, and I dont.
I can't wait to dance with you tomorrow.
Cab;'t wait to be held. To laugh with you. To dress for you.
Despite popular belief, it is all for you.
If I'd had courage, I'dve kissed you. The groundwork was lain.
Hell, you laid it.
I don't know how Id exist without you. I dont.
So thank you for being you when being me gets hard. <3 I love you through all against all odds. <3
 
 
Current Mood: lovedloved
Current Music: ks choice - ill wait//
 
 
Meghan
07 April 2011 @ 03:41 am
If you arrived at your front door and saw your first love standing there, what would you do or say?

I used to cry for you, before we became what we became.
Every night I would wish for you and dream for you and pray for you and...then one day, you were mine with strings attached. Long, tangled, solidly rooted strings attached to every moment you spent with me.

I was willing to try and clip those strings, to hold out and wait for you to get it together, but the timing wasn't right. The timing wasn't supposed to be right.

I remember nights sitting on the steps at the ballfield. I remember sharing a beer, sharing our hopes and dreams, sharing conversation, and sharing the most tender kiss I've received in all of my years because you, ever the gentleman, asked first. "Is this okay?"

I remember sitting in your lap while you stroked my hair and kissed my face, holding it between your palms. I remember your fear of being discovered, and your haphazard treatment that, should our friends and family find out, it would somehow be okay.

They never found out. You went away and we wrote back and forth, your letters becoming more scarce as mine became more desperate. I was trying to cling and you had already backed away. You wanted to see your family and friends and me for Thanksgiving, so I scraped together the money to get you here because to see you, even for a moment, was worth any price I could pay. I sat in the TV room with you, hands linked beneath a blanket, trying to be nonchalant about the whole thing because if they'd found out, it wouldn't have gone well. I found out from your sister that you were dating someone.

I hated you a bit at that moment. How could you hold my hand but be with someone else? I knew better, though, than to really do anything more than just....love you while I could have you.

You picked me up later that night and we spent a night in your car listening to music, watching the skyline, and kissing everything goodbye. It never went further than those kisses...amazing and everything but chaste, but worshipful on my end and I'd like to think on your end as well.

I've grown up now and so have you. You have a family now and I'm still trying to get by. And that's okay. It was all okay. I'm proud of you and I'm proud of the time I had to love you.

Thank you.
 
 
Meghan
03 April 2010 @ 04:44 am
Do certain items of clothing remind you of people or events from your past? If so, what garment reminds you of a particularly happy memory?
I have this pair of pants, you see. I had just started waitressing at the local Elks Lodge, where my father was quickly moving through the ranks, and he got me a position as a waitress there. The pay was good for a girl of my age, I knew everyone already, and U'd spend more time with my family.

So I took the job and went hunting for the specifically required pair of black pants. East, you say. Not easy when you're 14 and indecisive. I was difficult and demanding until my father locating the perfect pair of black cotton pants, with a bit of stretch to them, at Express. He bought me two pairs.

I still own one pair. That pair has seen more than waitressing. It saw funerals. Weddings. Happy events, sad events, and painful ones. They went with me to jail.

These pants live now in a closed off area of my closet. Don't know if I'll ever wear them again, nor do I know if I truly want to.
 
 
Current Mood: creativecreative
 
 
Meghan
25 August 2009 @ 10:31 pm
Josh Link, well known in NYC as DJ Missing Link and an old, old friend of mine from back in my raver days, was struck and killed by a car on the Williamsburg Bridge in NYC last night while riding his Vespa.

http://www.observotraffic.com/?m=20090824

http://www.urb.com/permalink/7087/RIP-DJ-Josh-Link-(Explanation-&-Apology).html

Josh was a wonderful individual and I can't believe that this has happened.
I don't even know what to say.
Tags:
 
 
Current Mood: numbnumb
 
 
 
Meghan
18 July 2009 @ 04:41 am
Don't call me baby.
 
 
Meghan
05 March 2009 @ 12:59 am
I'm alive. No worries folks.
Things feel like they're on a somewhat even keel at the moment, so let's keep fingers crossed that they stay that way. I'm working my ass off to get rid of the extra accumulated poundage, and I'm sleeping terribly. Give a little, get a little, I guess? I don't know.

I'm heading off to bed, but wanted to drop a quick line on life. <3 Night, kids.
 
 
Meghan
14 September 2008 @ 02:35 am
oh. i am really tired.

made $140 first show.
$89 second.

And I'm broken from the feet up.
That's my update. School is great. And I'm going to bed ASAP.
 
 
Meghan
12 August 2008 @ 02:21 am
hey remember that time

nah you dont remember

memories aren't reserved for the likes of you and me

instead we're left with the bitter end

remember when death was dancing right ahead of me

right in front of my oncoming car

dodged the bullet that night

but it still claimed a victim

and it still stripped me clean

bareboned and shaking from the nudity

naked truth skip

skip

skipping

along...

the emperor has no clothes

but the garments of grandeur are said to be gorgeous

i wouldn't know

my rose colored goggles mask the memory

block out the uv rays of reality

tired of the sunshine that sweeps through the sky

tired tired tired

we ask why and get no reply

and it's just like that tree that fell down



we never heard it

it never happened



night crawls with cries of criticism

skepticism because if you don't believe me

who will

believe in me

when the dawn draws near

pink sky at night and blue mind at mourning

and the smoke and fog all dissipate

but the pain and fear never abate

never fully fade

fade

fading out...

wasting away and thirsting to death

and there's that word that i remember when

i remember then

i knew it like i knew my own face

backwards and out of place

in that shining mirror

gleaming with cleanliness

while im still unwashed and unsettled

no more will we speak of these things

these words are the keys to my locked up

pent up chained up bent boned being



and we can't have that now

can we



no



held up by the man with the bananas for hands

i was speaking in tongues about far away lands

while he was pressing his peels

he steals glances at me from time to time

when im composing another rhyme

but he doesn't quite know how it feels

to be me to be this to be lost and amiss

struggling with wholeness and the sensation of deaths kiss

it's the only promise that time heals

it's the only glimmer of hope on the horizon line

the only

the one

the sun

moon

starry eyed gazes

of star crossed lovers lost in legacies of lust

swallow down my trust with a gossamer tongue

and i'll breathe easy again

smoke in my lungs and a gun in my hand

im just a hair trigger pull from the fish in the barrel

shooting me up

timelines and hairlines and hate crimes

im fine

im fine

i am

promises promises

never kept to mean a thing

never kept locked inside my secret decoder ring

i'll just sing this little tune and wonders will occur

but it will never bring you back

what can ever bring us back to whole

back home

back where the buffalo roam

where did that come from

and frankly, where did you begin and end

send him away

the emperor's new clothes are shining in the sun

ruffled by the breezes of a thousand muttered things to come

and the threads are all golden

the fineries are silk

and im dancing

dancing

dancing....

i'm twirling in the naked truth

that i am fully exposed
 
 
Current Mood: crappyscrewy
 
 
Meghan
10 August 2008 @ 08:55 pm
I lost a friend last night at 9pm in a motorcycle accident. A 28 year old man, one of the most real, respectable, honest people I've ever met and connected with, has been taken from his family, his friends, and his future by someone who was ignorant of the law and of their surroundings...

God, I can't...I can't stomach it. I can't wrap my head around all of this. Alvin was one of those people that I instantly bonded with, and one of those people I wish I'd spent more time with. I respected him, I trusted him, and I knew I could trust him to take care of my best friend when I couldn't be there.
I don't understand why god does this. Why?? Why the fuck does God take all these good people from my life? Why? Someone, please, give me a good fucking reason for this, because I can't seem to grasp any kind of understanding in regards to this. I can't believe that a life can be cut short...just like that. In an instant. In a split second. I don't know if I can honestly ever understand that...or handle it. Come to terms with it. Death is something that I will never, ever, be able to handle. Especially when it always seems to be claiming people who had so much more light to shed upon this earth.
I can't even believe this is happening.
Rest in peace, Alvin.
Love you. <3
 
 
Current Music: Where I Stood - Missy Higgins
 
 
 
Meghan
14 July 2008 @ 02:43 am
I'm sitting here doing that whole..."revisit your youth" deal. Where I go through my myspace, my livejournal, my bits and pieces of memories...and I sift through them, like sand through a sieve....so that only the best of the best and the worst of the worst remain. It's painful, it's raw, and most of all..it's real.

Because, see...I thought we had it all. You know? I thought that our friendships were real and beautiful and perfect and true. That there was none of that typical bullshit that bleeds into every other friendship and poisons it with negativity and bad karma....that we were always straight up and honest.

Life is full of lies and liars, and while I used to strive to survive as someone who maintained her honesty and integrity, no matter what, I was still infected. It's warped me. I've turned into someone I didn't plan on becoming, and I don't know if I can place blame solely at your feet, but I sure as hell will throw some fucking mud in your direction.

Sadly enough, though, I still love you. Both of you. I love the memories we have of driving to Boston at 3am with too many people and too many flyers in the car. I love the memories of alcohol induced writings and rantings that were just so fucking out there that I read them now and I can't get a handle on it. I love that we'd get together for dinner on Sundays at a different restaurant every time, and then we'd sit there like fucking food critics or something while we gorged ourselves on crap.

I laugh at the memory of Virginia Beach, where you were carrying my six pack of Mike's Hard Lemonade, and you swung it up over your head and actually expected the bottles to stay in the cardboard carrier.

I laugh and I laugh...until it hurts. Until the burning in my belly that knots with anger becomes a knot of tears, steadily crawling up my throat until I'm crying...

You'll never know my children.

I'll never know yours.

We'll never sit side by side on our porches with a beer in one hand, a cigarette in another, and our dogs at our feet.

You won't see me get married, and hey...you know what? I won't see you get married either.

I didn't make this choice. You did. I don't know...I don't know what the fuck I did. Actually, strike that. I do know what I did. I did the right thing, above all else. I didn't sell anyone out. I didn't lie. I tried to hide the information I had, and you couldn't trust that I would do that, so instead, you tried to save yourself. And I can't hate you for your self-preservation, but goddamn you, I can hate you for hiding it from me. I can hate you for the implications you made. For the fingers you pointed in my direction. For the senseless bullshit that's pushed us so far apart that I haven't seen, nor spoken to you, in three years time.

I don't even know what I'd say to you if I saw you passing me by on the street. I don't know if I could choke out a hello past all of the hurt that ties me in knots. I don't know if I'd be so swamped by memory that I'd forget what was said and done...

I don't know who you are anymore.

But I guess that's okay, because I don't think you have a clue who I was, and what I was worth, from the very beginning. And that just makes me sorry and sad...

And I guess that's what you thought of me from the get go.
 
 
Current Mood: crappycrappy
 
 
Meghan
I know I recently posted something on either this blog or my Myspace blog regarding Nick Hogan and his asshole father and the entire scandal involving John Graziano, but my god. It only gets worse.

If you haven't seen the news, or read any gossip mags, or if you don't live in 2008 where our lives are constantly filled with the mindless drivel that is the "celebrity," then you won't know much about the whole Nick Hogan (Hulk Hogan's son) & John Graziano tragedy. I don't feel like going into detail, so if you want to know about it, feel free to google that shit and get filled in. However, if you do know about it, read on...

So, John Graziano is said to be in a persistent vegetative state secondary to the Nick Hogan car accident and subsequent head trauma he received. Hearing "persistent vegetative state" and seeing the aftermath of said state are two entirely different things. Head trauma and brain injury are generally internal injuries with superficial exterior wounds. There might be some facial lacerations, bruising, or scalp lacs that require stitches or staples, and even in some cases, there may be skull fractures or facial fractures that heal into funky shapes. Sometimes they might need to remove a part of the skull in order to allow the brain room to swell so they can alleviate intracranial pressure, but that piece of skull is generally embedded in the flesh near your pelvis so that it can be replaced at a later date. Kind of creepy, yes, but it's not horrendous. It's survivable. Even if you're in a persistent vegetative state, you'll still have some of your good looks.

Not John Graziano.

From the looks of it, this kid lost a good portion of his frontal lobe, a portion of his temporal lobe, and a whole lot more. It's no surprise that he's vegetative. In fact, I'm surprised he's alive. I'm surprised he hasn't been overtaken by some kind of...infection or something, because there's seriously a LARGE portion of his fucking brain exposed. It's...jesus christ, it's probably the most disturbing thing I've seen this year, this decade...or perhaps even in this lifetime.

The video that initially aired regarding John Graziano's life was censored so that the public wouldn't be...well...subjected to the imagery of his exposed skull/grey matter. That video is in the link posted below, and describes his current quality of life, of which there is none:

http://link.brightcove.com/services/link/bcpid353549946/bctid1612733745

But, like I said, that video is censored. Someone found an actual video of the wound itself. This video is not for the faint of heart, stomach, or mind. It's not pretty. It's not anything except...sad. And disturbing. So here it is:



I just...I can't. Jesus.
This is...I don't even have words now. Ugh.
 
 
Current Mood: sicksick
 
 
Meghan
26 May 2008 @ 02:15 am
Lessons learned
moreover lessons untaught
forgotten
and then
shoved down our throats...

A friend of mine is in the hospital with hemorrhaging in his brain. With a lack of sensation below the waist. Unresponsive. On a respirator. In a medically-induced coma. Extremely agitated, screaming, and freaking out when the doctors tried to slowly bring him out of it. With lacerations on his face. With a bolt in his skull. With intracranial pressure slowly climbing. With glass embedded in his skin. With no memory of the incident. With doctors telling us that now is the time to pray...

And this is what happens, my friends, when you forget to put your seatbelt on. When you decide to go to another bar after the first one gets ready to close, so you ride with someone who's been drinking. This is something we are all guilty of, at one point in time in our lives or another. This is something we have all done. And this is something that should teach us a lesson...not something to be forgotten, or written off as a bad stroke of luck. This is something we need to take away with us after all is said and done.

A friend of mine is in the hospital, and thanks to him, we are all re-evaluating our decision-making process. Why does it have to come down to something like this before we look at our behaviors and realize that they're destructive? That we put ourselves at risk because we crave a bit of relaxation, or a night of boozing? We risk our lives for our pride and we don't look back until we're forced to count the number of drinks it took for an acquaintance to crash into the median...

And this is what happens, my friends, when our lives are flashing like beacons in front of our faces. Flashing like the glowing red and blue of the ambulance lights, carrying off our friend into an unknown future...a future of wheelchairs, ventilators, monitored brain activity, an IC Bolt measuring intracranial pressure, and scars from a tracheotomy. The discomfort of not knowing how to be who you used to be because you can't remember who you were five minutes ago. The frustration of knowing...just knowing...that you're supposed to be somewhere...and not knowing how to get the words out when you want to ask for the directions. Not knowing how to ask for help, or just simply not being able to. We've welcomed into the fold of brain injury another beautiful person...who like a butterfly will be forced to emerge from a cocoon of pain, discomfort, and fear. Someone who will be squeezed back into society from a birth canal of tightly wrapped bandages, stitches in facial lacerations, intravenous lines dripping morphine into veins unwilling or unable to reach the deepest of aches.

A friend of mine is in the hospital, and I'm afraid for him. Deeply, disturbingly afraid for not only him, but for the rest of us. We won't walk from this unscathed. We, too, will experience each step of this path with him, if we are to be the best friends available. We need to remain open-minded and hopeful. We need to remain realistic and solid. We need to remain supportive and flexible. We need to remain understanding and mindful of his pain, which will not only be physical, but will be mental and emotional. It will be the white elephant in the room, standing on our toes, reminding us of our own fragility. The question remains of whether or not we can withstand the pain that is looming on the horizon like the dustcloud after a stampede. Although it was our friend struck down by this event, we are the ones who must stand tall for him throughout the coming months. We are the embodiment of survivor guilt, layered with the lack of understanding necessary to know that what comes, comes with a lesson and a prize in the bottom of the cracker jack box. We might not be getting something expensive, but whatever we are left with, be it crumbs or a decoder ring, will be priceless in it's meaning.

And this is what happens, my friends, when you are the caregivers, the family, the friends, the brothers, the sisters, the husbands, wives, significant others....the adopted cousin or the brothers in blood...You suffer with them, in ways that seem different, but remain the same. You hurt for them, you hurt with them, they hurt you and you hurt them. No matter the outcome, no matter the positive or negative effects...if the lesson teaches you nothing, then the lesson was in vain.

My friend is in the hospital, the victim of an acquired brain injury. My brother, father, sister, mother, wife, husband, girlfriend, boyfriend, best friend, neighbor, enemy, acquaintance, drinking buddy, fellow employee...is in the hospital...the victim of an acquired brain injury. He will never be who he could have been, but what he will become is something I can have a hand in molding, by offering my support, my patience, my understanding, and my shoulder to lean upon should the going get tough. I'm up to the challenge....I hope you are, too.
 
 
Current Mood: crushedcrushed