sing for me.

i was searching for inspiration. and usually when forced to, i look towards music. but then the rain started to fall. and i said to myself, now i can sleep. and i promised myself that i would go to sleep before this time, and i am now going to fall asleep in Psychology with dreams of Frankenstein, and innate fear of going to a surprise birthday party for my uncle. my aunt who just so happens to be one of my very best friends, informed me that my grandmother was going to make deviled eggs just so that i would have something there that i could eat. because you see, unfortunately, my uncle is a strict carnivore, and obviously, that is not conducive to my lifestyle. and i have not yet had the opportunity to tell my grandmother that i am vegan, even though i have been for a month now. and so.....that's my life. really i do not have that much to worry about i guess. except starving. but they should have bread, right? and water? inmate status.

and i know, i know, Meghann, this is so mundane and unimportant. go forth to your resting place. well, my reply to that is: every one's life is mundane unless it means something to you, and if i thought this post was anti-climactic, mon dieu, you must be gauging out your eyes with dull pencils by now. oh, oh, Oedipus. libre me.

here's something to anticipate....my next blog will be exploring the real definition of the word NORMAL. that should strike your fancy, correct? i promise the diction will be much more refined than my midnight absent mindedness. forgive me. adieu, aesthetes.

Dead Humor

originally posted: Thursday, September 3, 2009


Its a strange thing when you get so close to one person, so close in fact that it feels like it would be impossible to be away from them, or that if they were to leave you it would be like cutting off a vital blood supply to your heart. It feels like you could never be as close to anyone else as you are to that one person, it would be inconceivable to even try to imagine yourself with someone else. It is almost painful, that closeness. And it is also exquisite. But the most shocking pain is when that person really does leave you, and you are faced with the brutal reality of having to learn to live again, on your own. And if that brutal attack on the senses was not enough on its own, soon after that they want all of thier things back, and you start to realize just how much you gave them and just how much the fact that you no longer have that connection with them is going to hurt for a long time. After that they delete your pictures from their myspace, and terminate your friend status. And a few months pass by, and by then you see the new pictures of them and thier new someone. And you are surprised. Because it doesnt hurt at all to see them happy. In fact, a slow smile creeps silently over your features. And you realize the impossible...all those tears, and all those screams, were worthless. Because life goes on, and people move on, and the heart heals itsself. And you are amazed with yourself, because you can be happy for the one person that let you down more than anyone ever has before, and your only wish is that you could tell them congratulations on their newfound happiness.

But life doesnt work that way.

secret gardens.

i was walking through the streets of Williamsburg, particularly along the campus of William and Mary college the day before and i must admit i found it quite inspirational. the well worn brick walk ways and the gently swept courtyards were so beautiful i found myself compelled to walk on in search for more hidden treasures. even though the wind began to stir after the twilight deepened, i kept on in my search. i chanced upon a clandestine cemetery, perfectly apart and yet completely a whole of the school, and i thought to myself how romantic an idea that these students can everyday pass here and witness this beautiful testament to knowledge and intellect! it was so beautiful there, and even as i regretted the fact that the local Starbucks was out of soy, i found the crisp air refreshing and welcomed my walk deep into the evening. the leaves are starting to change colors there, and i found it so inspiring to sit on a worn bench under one of the most beautifully unique trees i have ever seen. it was most apparently ancient, with tall sweeping branches, and a gloriously twisted trunk. and i found that i could last here forever, only on the soul happiness of these little secret places! what a joy that little walk through the historic area was, as it always is! i have no idea why i do not live there myself!

Death of the Seasons

One of the most perplexing things about the end of summer, is that one has so much time to just stop and think. As I was sitting with my soy Latte outside today, the richly dark taste of my delicious vegan chocolate bar still lingering on my tongue, I found myself ignoring my worn copy of Frankenstein, and just watching the season slowly melt. The slight breeze that was dancing on my skin had that bitter twinge of cold that carries the leaves from the trees, and I was pleasantly surprised at the involuntary chill that ran through my blood. I have always found Autumn and Winter to be the most beautiful of seasons. The leaves are drenched in blood stained hues, that fall like burned love letters, a bittersweet farewell. The softly chilling breezes serving as a sorrowful last kiss. I have always longed for the sweet, heavy scent that is all encompassing during Autumn, the faint scent of death...wilt, and decay, a funeral pyre of the faded portrait of summer. There is nothing else like it in the world. The scent of winter is clean and stifling, and fills the lungs to overflowing with something like satin, cold and silken. It offers me something much more than the warming comfort of velvet Autumn, it calls to my soul of a beautiful watercolor in greys and shadows, and sings to me of a promise of redemption.

It seems that the soft fog that emanates from the winter sighs of parted lips is just a gentle character beseeching for a slight glimpse of the favor people shower on the warm embrace of the sun.