Meghan: Ice Cream

I feel like retelling the tale of the park and the car and the Thomas…so here we go

It all started when Jasmine savagely attacked Sarah with her knee (or Abe used Jasmine as a projectile to attack Sarah, not sure which), causing copious amounts of blood to pour from the innocent freshman’s nose. So we took a break from the glory that is laptag to watch her try to stop the bloody fountain with lots of tissues. It was then that the light playful sounds of an ice-cream truck could be heard on the wind.
I froze and whipped my head towards the sound while asking in almost religious tones, “Does anyone else hear an ice cream truck?” They did and all of our faces were pointed to where it coasted, gleaming and white, on the other side of the park. I blinked at it for several seconds, pondering running to the thing, when I was beaten to it by Thomas. He sped towards it with a childlike glee that would be his doom.
A heartbeat of silence passed and while we pondered what we would do Abe noticed that Thomas had left his wallet and everything on the table, and so would be unable to purchase delicious ice cream.
So he logically suggested that we take his stuff and hide it.
In the precious moments that we had, we scooped up all of the stuff on the table and started running away. Where were we going to go and hide said stuff? Someone suggested we take Thomas’ car, since his keys were so handily left with us.
Having decided on a course of action, while yelling at all of them that we were insane, we sprinted towards the gravel parking lot. After all, Thomas had probably noticed that we weren’t at the picnic tables anymore.
Sayre was the designated driver, being that he looked reasonably responsible, he got there first, and he knew Thomas better. He opened the car and unlocked the doors so that we could all pile in the backseat.
We drove Sarah home, we could have gone many terrible places but…we are good people and we restrained Abe.
In the car Abe sat in the front seat going through Thomas’ stuff and plotting to take over his identity. In the back were Me, Jasmine, Jarrod, Malcolm, and Sarah, doggy piled. We fit. Sort of. After dropping Sarah off we fit better.
After driving around a bit we headed back to the park and left the car in a different spot. We went back to the picnic tables and after failing to find Thomas there left to get ice cream at Dairy Queen figuring eventually he’d appear. We all got cones (except Jarrod who got a banana split khhh non conformist) and Abe told the nice DQ people that we took all of our friend’s stuff and if he wandered in there lost and confused to direct him towards the park. On the way back to the park we met Thomas coming across the road and all was well. He went to get ice cream and freak out the DQ people with some bloody rags…But it was fun.
But unfortunately I don't think Thomas will ever skip innocently after ice cream again.

-Meghan

Meghan: Standing

When it comes for you, what do you do?

When you suffer, when your world crashes down around you; that’s the moment when the truth comes out.

Do you hide, do you run? Or do you fight for what you want.

You may fall, and fall, and fall.

Who cares? Do you?

While you’re falling, you’re still living. Breathing, eating, knowing, seeing. All around you stars are dying, crying, lying; even when you see them shining.

What to do, tell me, tell me? Give me a drop of advice for my parched throat. Whet my lips with that sweet sympathy.

Oh, you’re killing me

Give me more

Love me, love me

Hate me, hate me

Just don’t make me give it up. I want this, I need this.

Kiss of Bliss

But what happens when you have to stand on just your two feet? Will you fall without those extra pairs?

Because nothing is forever

What if an army of legs can’t hold you up? What if?

Will you fall?

Hey, you still have two

And they work just fine

-Meghan

Meghan: It's a fine line

“When will you cut this bullshit?” Her voice trembled in the cold air. Not in sadness; never in sadness, but in rage. The object of her rage laughed before her, blowing out a silken thread of cigarette smoke into the night.
“What bullshit?” he asked, leaning against the hood of his car, “I’m telling you everything.”
“You’re telling me nothing.” She hissed at him. The snow crackled under her feet as she stepped closer to him, “I ask you about it and you just blow me off.” She snaps her hand in front of her face, “Like I am nothing to you?”
Why did she say that?
The blue, patterned scarf that she wore was one he had bought for her seventeenth birthday. He had slunk sheepishly into her favorite clothing store and stared at the pastel racks in horror while giggles seemed to stab at him from all sides.
It matched her eyes
He grimaced and blew out another puff of smoke, “I don’t know what you want from me.”
She nearly screamed in frustration, “I’ve been telling you all this time and you still don’t understand? I just want to talk to you!”
He flicked the cigarette to the ground, “Do you think that I don’t have a life besides with you?”
When did it get so…
Angry
Choked
She jammed her hands into the pockets of her woolen coat, “I can’t wait forever for you to get your head on straight. I have a life to live too; there are plenty of guys who I could…”
The words died at her lips as his head swiveled around and his eyes met hers, “What? There are plenty of guys who could what?” he asked dully.
Get angry damn you! Fight, laugh, scream; anything but that damned apathy!
She wanted to say it, but she didn’t.
She wanted to take his face in her hands and kiss the sorrow away, but she didn’t.
So they both just stood
Thinking it, needing it, but…
“So I guess that’s it then.” she said coolly
Heart breaking
Earth shaking
Please God, don’t let him say it.
I need him, please—
“I guess so.” He took another pack of smokes from his pocket and lit up again.
No
How?
How did this happen?

-Meghan

Meghan: New Years

This New years I’ve learned something that every college student, nay, every person, has to learn sometime in their life,

Alcohol is evil.

Oh yes, it’s lots of fun but after a night of it I can safely say that I’m hopping onto the abstinence wagon and chaining myself to the floorboards. At least for a week or so.

As I sit here blearily typing, more and more memories come back to me like little lost scraps of paper that I’m catching on the wind. Each time I catch one I alternatively sink lower in my chair or start laughing at the total ridiculousness of it.

Would I undo it? Hell no, parts of it were so fun that I would repeat the entire experience right this minute if I didn’t also have clear memories of those parts where my weak stomach gave in to the toxins I had been dumping into it. No, I will not be skipping off to purify myself or repent in the arms of a convent (though I won’t say it didn’t cross my mind in the more painful hours of my stupidity). I was protected by people I trusted so that I could do something hideously stupid and fun.

By the way, to those people who had to deal with us in our various states of inhibition loss; thank you, more than I can say.

Things I liked: learning to play chess, rum, everything was entertaining, getting trashed was a bonding experience, mind blowing sex, Jasmine’s robe, talking, sleeping, loss of gravity control

Things I didn’t like: throwing up, the dark, head stuffed with cotton, burning eyes, being helpless, cleaning after

I could recite the whole story...I could. But that would take a ridiculous amount of time and I'd like to clutch onto a little scrap of humility. At least for as long as it takes for someone else to post the entire damn story.

love,

Meghan

Meghan: Ashes

Ashes to ashes
Dust to dust
Coals burn low
To bank the lust
Can you touch the
Fireglow

Ashes
Ashes
We
All
Fall
Down
Into
The
Well
Where
The
Children
Drown
Swim with the fish
And float in a bubble
This new dish
Is too much trouble

Double, double, toil and trouble
Fire burn and cauldron bubble,
Can’t you make the world stop spinning?
Fix the heartbreak,
Stop the changes,
Soothe the pain and kill the dangers?
Heal the bloody broken dove
Fix this thing that we called love

-Meghan

Meghan: It's the end of the wold as we know it

I blinked down sleepily at the papers stacked on my folded knees. My chemistry notes stared back at me; words I had read a hundred times and problems I had done a thousand more. But I was doing them again, yippee. But as I traced my finger across the paper a rattled breathe came from my right and reminded me that I wasn’t here just to study for my finals. Amanda lay twisted on the couch next to me, with her boyfriend Jason sitting on the floor next to her; clutching her hand. He made sure she breathed while I made sure her pulse still beat. Really, the chemistry was just a distraction, something to pet with my hands while I watched the flutter in her neck beat at impossible rates, then slow down to normal, feeling my pulse speed up with it.
As long as it doesn’t stop, they said, as long as it doesn’t stop.
And then her breathing; choked, gasping, coughing. Teas and cough drops and pills, but no, no, not the hospital. Too much money, too much trouble, for not enough results. We commandeered one of the dorm’s lounges because we have no place to nurse our sick bird back to health. And there we have been for the week, studying, bringing food, watching horror movies, and chasing away irritating girls who want to watch TV and bake cookies. I think…I should get some medical training. Like emergency response, medications, etc. Just because I want to save animals doesn’t mean I can’t save people too. At least the ones I like.

"It's the end of the world as we know it, and I feel fine."

though it's 1:30am in the morning which may have something to do with that

-Meghan

Meghan: unstable?

“If the defendant would please restate her case?”
“I’m sorry Mr. Hendricks, but I just couldn’t help myself.”
“You couldn’t help yourself Ms. Bentz?”
“She was asking for it.”
The man in the crisp grey suit who had been pacing in front of the witness stand pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, “Are you saying that your suitemate literally asked you to knock her unconscious with a hammer and tie her up in a closet?”
“Well, no. But I’m sure it made her a better person fundamentally. It was for her sake really.”
The man just stared at the bright eyed girl in front of him for a few moments, “If you would please explain?” he asked in a strangled voice.
“Well, it’s hard to sum up in just a few words.” She sighed heavily and clasped her hands in her lap, “I can only say that it built from many nights of loud music, phone conversations, and screechy singing.” A tear slid down her cheek, “I just couldn’t take it anymore.”
Titters could be heard from the jury, and a security guard came forward with a box of tissues.
“Thank you.” She said in a hoarse voice as she dabbed at her eyes.
The lawyer ran a hand through his hair, looking from the jury to the crying defendant, “Would you say that you are emotionally unstable?”
“Yes.”
He blinked, “Oh. Then…”
“But isn’t everyone emotionally unstable? It’s more interesting that way.”
“Would you say that this instability led to your attack on your suitemate?”
“No, I think she’s just irritating. Or maybe it’s the fact that we have to live together in tiny rooms with thin walls. Whoever’s brilliant idea that was, that is who is at fault.”
“But there are plenty of people who don’t attack their roommates and suitemates.”
“She’ll grow up with a healthy respect for noise pollution. In fact I’d like to counter sue.”
The man looked at her, confused, “What? What for?”
“Emotional trauma.”
“But you attacked her.”
“Physically. But emotional damage is so much more crippling than physical, don’t you think?”
“You are unstable.”
“See you in court.”

-Meghan

Meghan: What to do?

I miss you, I need you.
Music blasts into her ears, funneled into her brain from electric blue earbuds
Sweat is pouring down her back, her neck, her face; dripping and flicking onto the mats
Mirrors, mirrors every where
Shadows, shadows flicker
One light burns in the doorway; lighting the way should anyone stumble upon her refuge
The windows are blocked with shutters. No one can see
No one should see
Leaning her forehead against leather, crazy smiles, laughing, crying
What is she doing?
Drawing her fist back she slams it into the punching bag, again
And again
And again
out of breath, gasping, hair sticking out in crazy direction, she swipes a hand across her forehead and leans with an arm around the object of her punishing.
In this little slice of heaven she can do what she wants, act as she wants, be who she wants. In the dark no one can see her; judge her.
Only, perfect is not so perfect
There seems to always be something missing
In this blissful solitude she can be who she wants but the people she loves are not here
What to do, what to do?
She pushes the bag like a pendulum
Back and forth it swings
And again she hits

-Meghan

Meghan: pride

Hey there hey
Got a light?
Get out of my face
Unless you want to die
I’ll rip your heart and drink your blood
Ha ha
Hey now hey,
Calm down little girl
Think now think
Whatcha gonna do to me?
What do you want old man?
What do you want little boy?
Leering, sneering, snarled thing
Reaping suffering, sewing hate
Stop, just stop
Out, get out
Won’t, child, won’t
Can’t, child, can’t
You keep me
You hold me
You tie me to you
No, no
Yes, yes
Out, out
In, in
I will kill you
You will love me
I will die
Ha, ha
Hey now hey,
Who cares?

-Meghan

Meghan: Lovely interpretations

I don’t like it.

I wish I could start a blog with rainbows and unicorns and other such happy things, but, well…sorry, that’s just not how I roll.

What don’t I like?

It all started when a group of friends from Taekwondo and I went to dairy queen a few hours ago, and for some stupid reason we decided to partake in friendly debate (haha friendly debate among opinionated college students, that’s funny)

We argued about McDonalds v Burger King, Led Zeppelin v Iron Maiden, karate v taekwondo, embryonic stem cell research v adult stem cell research, etc.

Eventually (I don’t know how) we started on the topic of love. The preacher in our group (it’s north Carolina, they’re everywhere don’t worry about it) asked us if any of us could define love.

Oh God, how in all hells do you answer that one? Well he gave us his answer (somehow delivered using spoons for diagrams):

“Love is when you tolerate someone else no matter what.”

I looked at him, staring, unbelieving that he could make something so wonderful sound so boring and mundane. Love=toleration? That’s it? That was so…the very thought was rejected by my mind as soon as I heard it. Maybe the definition made sense in some corner of my thoughts but the shining swirl of light that was love wasn’t toleration. Toleration was the thing that I did with people I didn’t like but couldn’t kill; so I just had to live with them. I don’t even ‘tolerate’ people I like.

I tried to beat Mark over the head with my ideas but he was so utterly convinced with his ideal love that I couldn’t convince him of anything. The closest I got was when I said in a frustrated voice, “There’s no possible way you can describe love, it’s just love.” He looked at me and said, “You’re close.” Thank you, I feel so much better. I will keep my interpretations and you can keep yours, and may you find love with them.

"Not a shred of evidence exists in favor of the idea that life is serious."

Brendan Gill

-Meghan

Meghan: Glory

screaming screaming screaming

Love, why don’t you just accept it?

She touches my hair, stroking and twirling the locks between her pale fingers

Get OUT! Get the fuck out of my head! I sob hysterically

I can’t sweet

one white fist clenches on a slim chain that trails from a collar around her neck

Besides

She grabs a hold of my hair and snaps my head back, blue fire staring into my eyes from inches away

Would you kill me if you could?

A sigh,

No

Painted lips smile

No?

No

A whisper ghosts across my skin

Let me out, love

I curl up into myself

No, no, no—

LET ME OUT!

Heat blisters along my skin; I can feel the rage the need—

NO!

Hissing like a snake, chords stand out in her arms and her neck. Golden hair ripples in flames and eyes blaze

She’s not so pretty now

You will not get out of me,

I know what you can do

She laughs

Because after all,

You’re me

-Meghan

"And since you know you cannot see yourself,
so well as by reflection, I, your glass,
will modestly discover to yourself,
that of yourself which you yet know not of."

-William Shakespeare

Meghan: Changes

I can feel the changes whispering on the edge of my mind. Burning through my veins like a sip of fire. Nothing seems to matter, or is it everything? Every minute the mind flicks, flits, flips from thought to thought searching for the answer, trying to put these pieces together. Some pieces fall together only to be torn from their places. But it’s not the ever-shifting puzzle that I’ve noticed; the puzzle is life; it’s always there. It’s the changes that have caught my eye and my soul. Not bone-deep earth shattering differences, just little shifts. Like this person speaks a little differently and that person is a little more emotional and this person more gentle. Then I wonder, am I different? How can I be cast to the other side of the country amid complete strangers and remain untouched by it all? Maybe I’ll return speaking in the honeyed tones of the south and shocked by the scandalous things my friends do. (not likely) But I think and I wonder, and I miss those who would help me thrash out my problems (and who I could badger with my "deep and philosophical questions").

-Meghan