ghostunderrock

self-bretrayal

2012-02-10T17:13:00.000-08:00

I cannot, and will not continue to pretend that I am happy in a relationship where I feel absolutely no support and constant disappopintment. I will not pretend that the lack of comfort in asking for help from someone so close to me doesn't bother me. Self-bretrayal. That is what I have been doing. I am telling myself that I am happy and that most of my stress stems from an overload of assignments, which isn't to say that it doesn't contribute to it, but that is fooling myself into looking the opposite direction. I am not happy being in a relationship with you. I am not happy being with you at all. I am so full of disappointment and anger when I think of being next to you. I am disappointed in myself. I needed to leave so long ago but didn't because I was choosing your happiness over mine. I am not happy and I never will be if I continue this with you.

inner state.

2012-02-10T12:38:00.000-08:00

During these past couple of weeks I've been dreaming quite frequently and most, if not all, have been incredibly vivid. Unfortunately, almost each and every single one relate to my current physical relationships and the desperation I hold towards them. I am aware that the mood I carry while awake carries over to the night and the sadness I contain is increasing the heaviness in my heart, but I feel so apathetic towards everything that I simply just do not care anymore.

Last night my dream began with me walking down an LA street; it's my birthday and I'm going to eat Pho by myself. I am wearing cut off jean shorts and skater-esque shoes that are an assortment of colours and a white tank. For some reason I feel oddly comfortable in my attire. I can't recall what I felt but it resembled neither content or disdain, just a flat line of heart beats I suppose. When I arrive I sit down and order LSD with my pho. While in the middle of eating and starting to come up on acid, a man in a UPS suit comes by with ten layered cakes in the shape of cats, and asks me if it's my birthday. I reply yes. With a jaunt and a smile the man steadily places the cakes on my table. Each and every single cat is a light blue colour, they are all smiling but I am not. I am really high.

Eventually I end up at a junk yard, a party is being held with a massive fire lighting up the night. Sean Hamiliton from Jenny is there and suddenly it is just the two of us in a car.

- - - - - -

2012-02-09T22:26:00.001-08:00

dissolved girl.

2012-02-09T22:24:00.000-08:00

Without doubt, without fear he clammers on, stutters in awkward spurts of devotion and plunges. Falls. He does not get back up, his verbal race track cracked with the driver's spilled blood. He cannot get back up, he cannot get back up. Yet, his voice continues, though broken and so fragile in bright light, he trudges on. He is going to make his claim, he is going to be heard. No shame will coil it's body around his throat, or so he tells himself.

. . . .

new glasses.

2012-02-09T20:08:00.000-08:00

being vocal, explaining my emotions and myself with complete comfort means being vulnerable. i learned that lesson the last time.

right now.

2012-02-09T20:04:00.001-08:00

"I just want to be heard without feeling ashamed."

sludge monsters

2012-02-09T19:58:00.000-08:00

their home is a hairy butt,
but not too hairy
just enough hair
just enough poo.

to live off the land as you and i do.

Some say they are scary
Others say too much poo
but the only stinky thing there is
MARK. <3

the end.

but

2012-02-08T22:43:00.000-08:00

There is a slow, scathing, oddly

     Desirable desperation coiling within my chest. I
     Can’t explain where it stemmed from,
     All i know is it’s existence is forcing
     Oddities though me.

It’s a burden.

It is not a burden on my chest but

A burden i created.

I can’t be close.

Not towards you

It exists

But it doesn’t

I understand but i don’t .

I want to be close

I want to allow verbal floods of

Blood and rainbows to emerge

Freely.

But i have no faith in those

I contain no faith in you.

I am stone. Ice. Unwanted letters

Blindly trying to find a home within

A concrete house. A girl writing terrible

Poetry in her room, crying.

You are my house.

You are not my home.

Because i wont let you be

I did a few times. It was nice.

It was pleasant.

I, unfortunately am that girl.

But i made illusions of these.

Created a blanket when there

Was only dust.

It could be said to be a miracle.

But it’s only blind eyes with

Diamonds.

And even those were shoved in

With some hopes of real love.

I still love

I still hold warmth for that battered pony tail.

But there is no faith.

There is no condfidence.

There is nothing within clasped hands.

Only a burden and a few salty tears.

The Minds A Crowd, Search For The Spaces

2011-10-31T23:47:00.000-07:00

So.

I'm not sure if you will ever read this blog again or even recall it existing, but ... I think you need to read these. Or perhaps you really don't but something is telling me to do it. Who knows if you will read them though because this time around I'm not telling you they exist, this is part of your own little adventure mister. Good luck mister sleuth.

The following are posts from a far more personal blog that is only accesible by myself and krista.

"April 22, 2011

I always ever have one reason or at least one voiceable reason for being such a seldom character around M. It's nothing that says anything too remotely dramatic about myself but it's still something that can be used to infer what sort of person I am.

In the beginning it was a good way for M and I to really see where our personalities could intermingle and where exactly our puzzle pieces of minds could fit, seeing as I am of a quiet nature and tend more to observe rather then speak, where he is the speaker. As we were slightly opposites, it just worked. But now as the relationship progresses I see other reasons as to why my voice box decides not to operate in his prescence and why, if it does operate at all, is only able to release certain things.

It was comforting to be so naturally quiet around him, to ingest all that he had to share and to be able to see his insights to life but now I find I am holding myself back more due to intimidation, as if my own little insights would be considered petty and far too naive in comparison. He is a history major and is able to use words in a persausive manner, can manipulate them in a way that is just far more intriging. Once he stated that in the minimal amounts that I have spoken, all my words have been profound, as if I had lived more life than him. I knew he intended for it to be a compliment, an encouragement to continue to vocalise myself towards him but I felt small and even more insecure afterwards. 'AS IF I had lived more life than him.' I'm only a year younger, AS IF I have any experience or life lessons learned, AS IF I could ever teach him anything of value, AS IF anything I could say would be worth his time.

Now I'm just getting angry.

I know, I KNOW what I just stated were not his intentions but sometimes I just can't help it. Sometimes I feel so inferior. I am still currently only upgrading my courses for post secondary while he is almost halfway done, his vocabulary is far more extensive and I get embarassed when I have to ask what it means or when he asks if I even know what he is talking about. Listening to him is getting more and more painful. The worst part is it's not really even his fault, it's my own. That was clear from the start.

So what do I do? Be brave and continue to allow portions of my cerebrum to disinergrate down the intricates of my spine? Swallow the vomit and hope it finds a track of rib? If I do that the inside of my teeth will surely have rotted to nothing, who would want to kiss me afterwards?

Once I had tried to tell him of the ingestion of pride. He didn't get it and attempted to put it in a more literal term. It hurt to listen to him try to resolve it. It felt as though he was throwing my idea back at me, my creativity too childish and naive for him to comprehend.

I don't know.
Back to math I guess.

hue. "

This was around the beginning of our relationship. There are more posts, more emotions involving my despondency and apthay, the jealousy that feuls my removal of wanting to be with you. These are just amongst other things. But none of these posts will ever be read again, I'm ridding myself of these sobs tonight. I've come along way since this post Mark, who would have thought? I honestly didn't think you would still stick with me after all my melt downs, almost each post had ended with some sentence of how you must be surely sick of my insanities. It's not to say that you aren't, because I sure as hell am but just the very fact that you can still say you love me presently is, well, so far beyond me.

Right now though, I will admit something. You are without a doubt the largest influence on my emotions. You are the hand flicking that light switch on and off in my head. Slowly, over these months I've been attempting to take control of my head and not let my feelings run but it's a process. I'm in disbelief of how sensitive I can be to sentences you say at times but your words really are a mojor factor in the rollar coaster that is my emotions. I've said the word 'emotions' far too much in this post. I need to look up a synomym. Too hungry.

Sigh. I don't know where I am going with this. I'm just looking to release the fog that was stewing inside my me.

Let me know if you find this? Or perhaps not. It was embarassing enough when I left you that drunk love letter ... you should really burn that.

Good night Mark.
(ps. stop watching breaking bad and come love me. poohead)

I'm Wide Awake, It's Morning

2011-07-17T20:59:00.000-07:00

I'm at a complete standstill right now. Mark, I am not happy and honestly, I've been forcing myself to smile for quite some time now. I'm not ready to end this and am trying my best to shove down emotions, to make this relationship work for both parties, hence the blog. But it's frustrating because everytime you're able to grasp what has been lingering through me, eventually I'm brought back to that same painful place of being lost and longing for a hand to hold. I really wish I didn't have to explain myself through a blog, it's so frustrating because I want to be verbal with you, be naturally vocal. The few times I've tried it ended in failure, due to stumbling thoughts and fear of your reaction. When you interrupt me is what really causes me to feel that the only way to be heard is though this blog. When I try to convey my head to you, it seems like you always have some kind of solution to what I have to say and then that should be that as though my words aren't good enough or dumb and I should just be a good girl and listen to you. I'm so small when this occurs, a little girl reaching for the sun only to have a strange man come and tower over her sunshine. I just want to be heard without feeling ashamed.

As of late it feels as though I'm constantly becoming smaller and smaller, having more and more of my light taken away from me. I'm still so very alone when I'm with you, slowly I can feel the calcium uptake from my spine and the need to scrape at the juts and whitematter comes in waves. It's all I can do, all I am capable of doing when the darkness begins to knaw, when the realization that my existence in your presence is a ghost.

The interractions that I get thrown into still create oceans and oceans of tears. I love your roommates, Alexis and Donald are such amazing people and I feel so welcomed but it is still difficult to be as natural as I could be or at least want to be. I don't think you fully understand how painful it can be to force myself to be social, it's been so long since I have. I'm trying my best to live up to the challenge and it's something I sometimes only concentrate on, so much that I want to die. It's tiring to want to leave my house and go 'enjoy 'myself with you and others when I feel like I'm constantly being left behind, I'm just a trophy girl for you to flaunt. And when I feel like this when I'm out with you and your friends it makes me reluctant to show you my world. I really hate it but I always get asked why you don't come out with me, to shows or just to get-togethers. Sometimes you have work or made other plans but the reality is that I don't invite you. I'm ashamed that I would feel the way I do when I'm out with you except infront of my own friends, the people I'm confortable with the most.

In the end, everything hurts therefore I always come back to the same simple solution of giving up. Only now is the realization of how quickly this relationship began and rather than a slow descent into hell I've been fully throttled without any warning. To have been so completely alone then suddenly placed into a fully romantic relationship has taken a full blown toll on me. I'm so emotionally drained and irrational. This constant sporadic crying has become more and more painful as well as noticeble, at least to co-workers and friends.

I'm not asking you to DO anything nor do I particularly want anything from you except to understand and to want to understand how this relationship affects me and why it does. The vey thing weighing my heart down is you.

Mark I'm sorry, but I'm not in love with you. I never was.

I want to, so badly but this is something I've been slightly aware since for the past week. I care about you so much but it's not love and it won't be until I'm fully comfortable with being able to speak out loud with you, until I'm able to fully trust you, until I can finally learn to love myself again. Because how can I expect to love anyone else when I treat myself so badly? Being physical with another human was and still is the most amazing thing I've experienced, one of the biggest hurdles I had been trying for so long to get over but love, love is something else completely. That first night together, going back to your place after the party, being completely enveloped in eachother's skin you stated things that terrified me. Almost in a way you gave yourself assumptions in regards to me, built an amazing girl in your head.

"All I want to do is make you happy."

Spoken in a flourish of bed sheets and infatuation. You hardly knew me at that point and already words like this were being thrown at me. You once, maybe twice told me I was 'perfect' for you. But how can someone be fully aware of that when the learning process of eachother was just beginning? It terrified me, boxed me in a place I didn't want to be in. Never have I been so fully appreciated for doing absolutely nothing. It's so, so terrifying. I fooled myself into believing love, you are so amazing, so sweet and sincere. I told myself i would be a fool to not love such a man. I lied to myself and I lied to you, led us both on a wild goose chase resulting in a further distance between my head and heart. I want to make things right.

Whatever this thing is between us, I want to make it okay. I honestly do care about you so much and eventually might love you but this love that I yearn for needs to be gained slowly, needs to be patient, everything was so fast for us. I need to crawl before I can run. I apologize that this post contains 99% 'what I need' but at this point in time unfortunately it's true. I've thrown so much of myself out of the window for others that now any built up I create gets easily knocked down by a single action or word. This is the fragility of Hue. It's stupid but necessary.

Once again I'm aware that most of my pain comes from myself, the fact that I'm not able to say it to you right away but rather this constant need to shove it down then cry days later. But I still need you to understand me, you don't have to love me or even remotely care about me, if you so please use me as a trophy to flaunt but please just understand the pain created from the results of two very evil men and the hastiness of this relationship.

I still want to be with you and possibly eventually learn to fully love you, that is if you will let me.

"We accept the love we think we deserve." - Stephen Chbosky
Hue

Landlocked Blues

2011-07-01T03:17:00.000-07:00

I've typed and re-typed, hoping to convey every thought that has troubled me in regards to you, this relationship and myself. I have no idea where to begin.

I have a voice, I do, I think. It just decides to sleep when you're near. Who the fuck knows, but really that is a silly statement because I certainly do. There are so many things I want to say, everything is getting jumbled. It's exactly 2:25am and I'm tired but if I don't do this now I never will and then I'll likely choose to end up where I began: shoving everything down and letting it explode later. Right now I'm just trying to make sense of my own head, attempting to find a way to be ok with what is occuring to my body and the emotions being created from being with you and the stupid fucking pill. Mark I care so much about you, I honestly do love you and the fact that you may feel the same way, though slightly terrifying, makes me really happy. I'm aware that everything falls back to me, my own insecurities and the feeble attempts I've made at trying to conquer the fear that so strongly directs my actions. It's a slow process.

First and foremost, March 21 2010. You've already heard the story; no need to repeat myself. Most, if not all the fear that inhabits my body stems from this night. Mark, never have I felt the true power of what the simple action of a human could do, or lackthereof. At this point in time the rape is not what causes me distress but the fact that I was left in the dirt because of an action imposed onto me. I trusted someone who told me that they cared and would be there, only to be kicked when I was already down. It took almost a year to get up and I honestly don't know if I'll be able to stand up if a second round occured. This is the fear that creates my inabilty to reach for your hand, the fear to trust honest words. I'm aware that everything you've said to me has been formed out of complete sincerity but I'm scared so I formulate ways to convert those words and gestures into excuses to push you away. But I don't want to push you away, I'm tired of having only my own shoulders to cry on and I'm tired of hesitating. But everything is still so fucking scary. Having realized my own feelings about you so quickly is so terrifying, I'm afriad of my own love, afraid that perhaps it's not enough or far too much. I've been in love only once, it took me two years to fully realize my feelings but with you it occured within two months, quite possibly less. Somedays I feel as though I'm in a korean drama, two broken hearted highschool classmates meet and fall in love. Awwwwweee. Not.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. This is all so frustrating! But I am a bit calmer now. It is now 3:09am. I'm not going to edit any of this because I know I will just delete it and then not talk to you for a week because that is the only way I know how to handle my emotions without having a complete breakdown.

Being with you makes me really happy. No. Scratch that. The only person who can make me happy is me, I believe that other people contribute to it and the fact I'm willing to let you aid in my well-being is a big step for me.

Although the previous paragraphs are abit more light hearted after finally reaching some conclusion (maybe? I was just blabbering at some point there) there is something that has been haunting me for quite sometime. Whenever I think about it I cry because it's a sentence I never thought I would hear, especially from you. Knowing your memory you probably don't remember and I know what I heard, i remember the exact tone of your voice and where our bodies laid almost the exat moment you said it. I don't want to keep typing but i have to because im going to die if i dont.

why didn't you do anything?

everytime i see that sentence, i die, piece by piece a portion of me just wants to end everything. The night I drove drunk to your place, talking to you in bed, for some reason i was replaying to you about being held down by my neck. Maybe saying this was your way of getting me to shutup or you said it just because. regardless, I'm tired of making excuses to myself of what reason you may have but it hurt, it really fucking hurts. 'why didn't you do anything' was something i battled with for so long last year. This small little sentence makes me want to die. it tells me that since i didn't try to stop him the entire incident was my own fault and therefore i deserved it. it was not sexual assualt, i'm clearly just another sentive girl who doesnt want to admit they lost their virginity to a d-bag. maybe if i had done something the assualt wouldn't have occured -- or could have been worse. i'm lucky i only ended up with bruises. for the longest time i was disgusted with my own body, ashamed to look in the mirror, afraid of the memories that came with it. i love/hate that you enjoy my neck so much. there used to be a bruise from his middle finger on the left side of my neck and a pressure point from his palm. i pancaked my neck and collar area with makeupo afterwards. I didnt shed a single tear that entire night. i guess that means i'm far braver than i give myself credit for. i was far too angry to cry. while held down I laughed in his face, chuckled that i couldn't feel a goddamn thing. the only moment in that entire night when i had any control of the situation was when he said, 'why' i continued to laugh, i dont think i've ever sounded so evil, so inhuman but i wasnt really much of a human at that point. just a piece of meat with a hole. i can recall that entire day so vivdily. the assault, catching the train at 6am, going to work at safeway, meeting up with riley for a date and then ending the night with, "I need to tell you something, I'm not a virgin anymore ..." but sexual assault and sex are two different things. this all happened in one day, I didnt want to believe i had just been raped, it was 'sex' and i was clearly a whore for cheating. and the boy who said he 'really cared' about me clearly didn't like me as much as he had initially believed. i trusted him, i really really trusted him.

i dont cry anymore when i think about the actions of these two men. i cry when i think i cant make you as happy as you really could be or are deserving of. what destroyed me the most about falling in love for the first time was realizing that i did not have the capabilty to give the happiness that the person i truly cared for was deserving of, at least not in a romantic sense. i realized my role in their life was to be their friend, it was hard to accept but something i still wanted to do regardless. it's something i always think about, whether the interractions i have with others, the friendships ive created, does it contribute to their happiness as fully as it could? this simple concept of happiness, is, for me, the hardest to accept. I want to so badly allow others and aid in creating and developing the happiness they so rightly deserve but i am far to afraid to accept it's presence. and once again fear steps in. i dont know, i'm just blabbering, getting thoughts out. its now 4:10am and i have work in five hours. that's ok.

i love you mark.
thank you for believing in me. your the first boy who has ever called me beautiful. or sexy. or said 'iloveyou' holy fuck you are terrifying but that is probably what gravitates me towards you. because i am pretty terrifying myself. we can be terrifying together. and facebook is evil, so i'm going to deactivate mine for abit, just so you're aware that i'm not breaking up with you or about to commit suicide. since being with you its been the first time in a long while since i havent thought of death every time i wake up. its refreshing.

you are refreshing.
luv purple turnip.