Crushing Krisis

Comic Books, Drag Race, & Life in New Zealand

my music

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The mess in here is a metaphor the way sleep yields dreams because without it this song would be a figment of my imagination and i would just be clean. I can’t be rescued from the empty shopping bags and dust and these feelings are homing in and i must give them a play. I’ll spin them out like your records left discarded on the floor when we upped the rpm to something more. And the emotions spun out of control and the bodies fit like a needle in the groove and after it was all over we couldn’t even muster up the strength to move. There’s still no blinds for my windows because i don’t like to cover up at all, i’d rather everyone see in past my walls. I’m always illuminated and the sunlight is unescapable and i always have a full view of the moon. It’s full like eyes brimming with tears after another friday night spent alone with our phones. And our voices darted past telephone poles so our brutal remarks could hit home. My fear of you is a tell tale sign that everything’s is just fine, but my running away is an end not a means, and heartbreak lies inbetween. But i keep putting one foot in front of the other and soon i’ll be disappearing from sight – just another blemish on your vast horizon i will do my best to disappear into the night. And our emotions spun out of control and the bodies fit like a needle in the groove and after it was all over we couldn’t even muster up the strength to move. The mess in here is a metaphor and my sleep yields dreams without them this songs would be a figment of my imagination and i would come out clean.

https://crushingkrisis.com/2001/03/2685299/

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What wasn’t quantified was how many songs you reap from love, or, to take a pessimist’s point of view, from a heartbreak continually in progress. Because, what is love except for your heart constantly shattered and getting pieced back together over and over again – either growing eventually unbreakable or becoming to weak to sustain the slightest chink in it’s weary armor. I don’t think there’s a limit on those songs… which is where all the good heartbreak albums come from…

https://crushingkrisis.com/2001/03/2684593/

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Each heartbreak supposedly yields three good songs… i don’t know who said that, but it was some famous songwriter-y person and i’ve yet to find a reason to disagree with him. There are surely three gems to be found in the rubble of a crumbled heart, but in all the ruin you’re likely to find nearly an entire album’s worth of okay songs which could be compressed like coal down to one meager diamond of a song if you could do that with emotions the way you can with coal. But you can’t. I think a lot of my favourite albums suffer from those excess heartbreak songs … where the big three are singles and the rest are filler. But, an album made up just of heartbreak can be a rather trying experience for the listener.

https://crushingkrisis.com/2001/03/2684573/

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i lost the taste from my tongue
as if i was licking up the sun
but now it’s just numb so your kiss means nothing
i’ve got your number on my list
but i won’t grant you your wish
yeah, i know you’re holding out for something
i can see right past your eyes
your paper thin disguise
but you seem to think it’s wise to waste my time but
i’m onto you, and i see through it
i know that you dare because you care and because you’ve got nothing else to do
keep that upper lip stiff
don’t drop because you’ve got a whiff
of what’s to come for us
i wouldn’t ditch you just for fun
but i’ve got a heart on the run
and it’s scared that you might be the one
it’s seen right past your charms
through breasts and open arms
but it can’t disregard what’s in your eyes
i thought i was through with you, but i see through
i know you dare because you care because you’ve got nothing else to do
if you would leave me be
i would run free
but you disagree and you’re holding onto me
you’re my personal eclipse
i can taste it with my lips
and i feel it in my hips but my enthusiasm’s gone
i thought we were through, but now i’m onto you
you dare to care because you’ve got nothing else to do
i lost the taste from my tongue
as if i was licking up the sun
but now i’m just numb.

https://crushingkrisis.com/2001/03/2684544/

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ani sez…

i'm a good kisser 
and you're a fast learner
and that kinda thing could float us 
for a pretty long time
then one day you'd realize 
you've memorized my phone number
and you'll call it and find 
it's a disconnected line
cuz i got tossed out the window of love's el camino 
and i shattered into a shower of sparks on the curb
you were smoking me
weren't you? 
between your yellow fingers
you just inhaled and exhaled without saying a word

https://crushingkrisis.com/2001/03/2683505/