Friday, June 26, 2009

Princess Weekend

My Mother always declared, "It's my Birthday week... You have to be super nice to me two days before and two days after!" I quite like this theory, and I stick by it. Like Mother like Daughter. (Scary!) So, it is two days before my birthday. Tonight, I work at Half Penny, a "hole in the wall" Irish style bar in down town Syracuse. Which I like working at a lot... Lots of interesting people. Mostly punks, goths, bikers and other degenerates. Perfect.

Unfortunately, I fear this birthday. I fear no one showing up- some solid decloration that I've gone so nuts that no one wants to celebrate with me. Scaring people away and burning bridges comes fairly naturally to me.. and while I love to declare I Don't Care, I really do, and it's quite annoying, actually.

But Holly and Rachael and Pete will be there. They are my best friends, and I cannot have a bad time with any of them, let alone all together!

Quality over Quantity, Meagan. Plow ahead!

Good BYYYE twenty-two. I like odd numbers better, anyway.

Friday, June 12, 2009


I've been prying myself from days in my bed and alternately denying myself sleep or food just to feel more alive (or, in fact, punishment), writing in my journal all night as if one day someone may read it and find it interesting (where does getting wasted fit in?). Or, better yet, that I may look back and feel my life amounted to something, that my suffering wasn't in vain(ity?). Goodness in truth. Art fag. And, currently, all I feel is utter loneliness, that I try hard to cover up (maybe.), hoping that my smile might attract some sane faces. Or perhaps everyone can smell the Crazy Bitch on me; can sense with some tendril of Knowledge that I am, indeed, one of the most self destructive people you will ever meet. Consumed. If I love you, I hate you, and nothing's ever good enough, particularly me- me, so full of faults and anger and conviction. Stumbling conviction. Solid anger. A Mess. The never ending flow of faults, faults, faults. So much chaos and confusion that all I want to do is rage and destroy - before, in fact... You do; Whoever. I will hurt you first, I will leave you first, I will show you with false pride the chink in my armor, the battle wounds, my Achilles' heel and God knows I'll show you my heart on my sleeve (even if you're so dizzy from my spinning circles); forever gushing gore. Spitting in the face of Man. Oh, Man, who I adore and search after for too much approval. Never enough. Here! Eat my sin and know insanity. Prove to me (again!) that you are not strong enough to yield me while I craze about with poison and daggers and hate. Fuck you, you 'men'. Your drool and your talk and your indecisive. Fuck you for not buying me dinner, not holding my hand or showing me strength. Fuck you for being little boys, for having no manners or worse - no sensitivity for the annoyingly delicate female emotional stability. Fuck you for telling me obsessed is some sort of a weakness, as if there's not (some?) greatness in one who will never back down, give up or turn their back. Fuck you and your useless penis, gangly stumbling hands and wandering eye.

Beautiful (stupid!) Man..

Fuck you for torturing me in my own masochism. For all I can do is adore you for causing me so much pain.

(Blog n. : Satisfaction in exploitation.)

Wednesday, June 10, 2009

A Gypsy Life

the Wren
June 10 - July 7
The wren Celtic animal sign is associated with freshness, and opening to new insights, and sunnier dispositions. They are natural care givers and will sign sweet melodies to cheer their friends and family. They remain calm in the midst of stormy weather. You want to have these people with you if you find yourself in a crisis; they are resourceful and stay cool under pressure. Wrens are self-motivated (they know how to get what they want) and work best in solo situations. They are also have a high sense of responsibility and moral integrity. They seek balance in their lives by being leaders at work on in the community, but secretly they would rather be traveling abroad living a life of a gypsy (this however, is often against their better judgment).

I will not make that mistake. I live a fucking gypsy life.