Megan’s Support Group (Trayvon Martin & Cory Monteith)

This has been a weird day in the news. I am now holding a support group for myself, and this support group consists of myself. During our first meeting, we will discuss events of the day and how we’ve been affected, and by us I mean the various facets of my personality. Just when you thought I couldn’t possibly get any more narcissistic. We might hold each and cry, or sing kum-ba-ya, or make each other a hot beverage. You’re going to be all right, little guy, because you’re here for you.

First of all, Trayvon and the d-bag George Zimmerman. This is how it makes me feel : sick. It makes me feel sick. On my insides. It also makes me think of Dexter and it makes me wish Dexter was a real person so that he could take out Zimmerman like a boss. But anyway, I just can’t even engage it fully on a mental or an emotional level because I can’t make sense of it. On any level. I can’t compute it. I think there’s some part of me that knows that bad people get away with bad things, but I guess I just want to believe that bad people are brought to justice, because that would make sense to me. If someone is bad, they need to be punished. There are two kinds of evil people, Cady – people who do evil, and people who see evil being done but don’t do anything about it (or even worse, people who see evil being done but can’t do anything about it because the system that has promised to protect them is doing the exact opposite.) I know it’s in Florida, and in Canada people are a little more reasonable (or are they), but this news story just really bugged me. It got under my skin. I am bothered by it. It’s like….nobody’s safe.

I think it would bug me a lot less if the bad guy just got sent to jail after. But because he didn’t, it’s like the evil is being allowed to live somewhere. I mean, horrible things happening is bad enough, but usually there’s a general understanding or acknowledgment that – hey, that was a bad thing that happened there. That sucked. And the people in power acknowledging bad things that happen makes it okay for the rest of us to move on. Because we’re all in understanding. Someone did a bad thing and they should not have done that. It’s about boundaries. But when the authorities don’t or won’t acknowledge that this man did something for which he should answer for, it’s like the boundaries are eradicated and they are giving evil permission. Evil is a separate entity, it doesn’t need permission from anyone to exist, and I know that. But the authorities not labeling it as such seems really, really dangerous to me.

And then Cory Monteith died. I feel like everyone thinks I’m silly because I get sad/shocked when celebrities die because I think that they’re my friend because they live in the little magic box and tell me stories and then I tell them stories… Even though I’ve never met them I feel like we know each other. IT’S ALL AN ILLUSION! Oh, George, we’re nothing but a pair of sentimental old fools. Anyway, I don’t really feel like Cory Monteith is my FRIEND (not like how I feel with, say, Will Smith or Mr. Dressup or something) but it was just shocking and especially because all of the songs on Glee are about not giving up, love, strength, the will to carry on, all that shit, and a drug overdose just gives those songs kind of a sad and twisted longing. Anyway I just feel sad about it. It reminds me of Steph’s mom dying because everything reminds me of that. I think about Lea Michele, and yeah, I think she’s kind of a diva lunatic but imagine it…just imagine it. I feel so sad for her. I’m not one of her fans, we’re not in each other’s lives, (obviously) I just feel sad for her. The shock and the desperation.

Now everyone will see her as someone marked by sorrow, she won’t be able to help that. The feedback from other people seems to me to be one of the best and worst parts of death. It seems like well-meaning words can be the most poisonous of all. And when you are part of a larger community like that, it ups the percentage of stupid and hurtful things that could possibly be said. I would hate to be a public figure and have something like that happen to me. You can bet that every single damn person’s gonna have an opinion about it, and if I was her, I’d be so pissed off by people who’d never met him saying how sad they were and how much they loved him. Maybe they are sad, but They can’t love him. They didn’t know him. They loved the way he made them feel. That’s all. If I was her I’d want quiet, and that will be the one thing she won’t be able to get. And I’m the worst of them, I’m hounding twitter, I want to know what happened, and I’m saying I’m sad, but I will never be able to comprehend the depths of others’ suffering.

“And when I’m dreaming, well I know I’m gonna dream, I’m gonna dream about the time I had with you.”

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