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November 6, 2001 by krisis

Every time i see my mother she has a plastic bag for me, without fail. It always contains a potpourri potentially exploding with tissues, snack bars, cds, mail i’m still receiving at home, household items i probably won’t ever make practical use of, and any special requests i had from home. On Friday when i slid into the back seat of our car while in mid-sentence of bitching about the length of my day and not quite remembering how to tie a tie and not really being able to do anything spectacular with my hair i noticed that the normally expected plastic bag had two familiar long boxes in it, and that’s when i remember that i had asked my mother to bring my Magic Cards with her.

As a frame of reference for this you should know about my first and last experience with Magic. The latter was in Boston where Rabi‘s brother had a deck of 7th Edition cards and i played him in two games at the kitchen table while Rabi idly surfed the internet The former was at my first year as counselor in training at the good day camp, where i watched one of my camper’s older brothers play his friend in what had to be Unlimited edition. So, now that i’ve established those two floating points in space, let’s look at what’s within.

Going from seventh grade to eight grade i really didn’t have very much of anything in my life. I wasn’t especially tight with anyone from Masterman yet, and i only had Monica left over from grade school; i had no life after i got back from camp every day. That was way before I had a website, let alone a computer, and I’m honestly not sure what I did with my free time. My only hobby at that point was … um… i want to say that it was some RPG on Super Nintendo, but i think it might have actually been masturbation. We’ll just let that one lie. Anyhow, point being that Magic excited me… it was like keeping my entire army of GI Joes on tiny shufflable cards and being able to wage war against other people’s collections. I made haste in pestering my mom to buy me some cards as soon as 3rd edition saw wide release, and by Christmas of 8th grade i really did have my veritable personal army which soon included two nearly infallible decks.

The thing about infallible armies is that, no matter how infallible you claim them to be, you’ve eventually got to pit them against another army to see whether they’ll fail or not. And, being the introvert that i was, i wasn’t exactly heading out to comic shops to play other people on gaming nights. My foes were just classmates who randomly got hooked on the game, and they played by all sorts of non-conforming rules on slimy lunch-tables that my cards wouldn’t be caught dead on. So, i just kept buying cards in a vacuum, without any practical use for them. I finally stopped at Ice Age and 4th Edition, because i felt like nothing i really wanted or needed was coming out anymore. The cards went into boxes, the boxes went onto my bookshelf, and with mostly no interruption that’s where they stayed for the entirety of highschool.

And now they’re back, spread out on my floor in a fabulous array of five colors and the names of Anson Maddocks and Melissa Benson calling me back to a hobby meant for multiple partners that I somehow made just as self-contained as masturbation. As a spectacular example of an only child, I suppose that everything I did was like social masturbation, and so now all I’ve really got going for me is that I’m really good at interacting with myself and that hardly anyone else does it the way I can do it.

But, anyway, all I meant to say is that I’ve been playing Magic all night, and that I have to remember to send some cards to Rabi’s brother later this week.

https://crushingkrisis.com/2001/11/6905888/

Filed Under: memories, only childness, sex Tagged With: boston, mom, rabi

November 3, 2001 by krisis

You know, there is a children’s game here. It is called “the enchanted.” Anytone who touches you enchants you. You must remain frozen until someone else comes to touch you. Then you can move again. Who can say how long it will be before someone else enchants you once more? It is a dangerous word. You are bedazzled. But you do not own yourself anymore. You belong to someone else who can be good or bad to you, who knows? … Some things are both yours and not yours; they are painfully yours because they are not yours. You understand? – Carlos Fuentes, The Old Gringo

Fuentes is translated by a woman, and they have woven an endless tangle of fathers and sons and sunbaked skin and sex upon sex. Fuentes and the woman translator brought us these sweaty tangles of blood and pulse and life and everything just through the thrust parry thrust of sex itself … sex as exposition, sex as decision, sex as power. Whoever of the two of them quite made the book into what it is… i cannot pull my head out of the tangle of shifting narratives and parenthetical thoughts and mirrors and yet another labyrinth of life mirrored across itself to create a twin garden of forking paths that is turning turning turning within itself like a season.

Sorry, i was writing blogs in class again…

https://crushingkrisis.com/2001/11/6838566/

Filed Under: books, college, sex

November 2, 2001 by krisis

Six AM is when i finally slid my downward spiral to sleep in my bedroom that had so suddenly been transformed into a desolate + sultry desert by page upon page of streaming consciousness that flowed in a way that felt like, yes, this is still a novel in Spanish and we are just reading it through American eyes.

I cannot dream in Spanish, and so i slept and sunk into a language of sleepy heavy-lidded eyes and it ended again with my flying… this time as if drunk and veering into buildings and slowly being lifted up into consciousness, and do you get the idea that my dreams are like the absolute ground floor of the machinations of my imagination and that in flying i am hiding in between the lines of sleep and awake. flying under the radar of waking thought but escaping the controlling arm of my dreamstate.

Dream is our personal myth … your soul is no different from your dreams. Both are instantaneous.

https://crushingkrisis.com/2001/11/6819495/

Filed Under: books, dreamt

November 2, 2001 by krisis

According to some sort of spiffy Perl-script that Benjy whipped up while cutting class, i’ve made over two thousand posts to this page for a total of significantly over two hundred and fifty thousand words.

So, if you’ll excuse me, i’m busy being boring as fuck and i need to write a sestina. ReRead YearOne :)

https://crushingkrisis.com/2001/11/6806379/

Filed Under: bloggish, weblinks

October 31, 2001 by krisis

I’m typically a two meals a day kind of guy, at best. It’s really more like one meal and a package of pop tarts. I haven’t gone an entire week of eating what amounts to breakfast, lunch, and dinner since before the beginning of highschool. Even when i was in Boston where i was sure to eat breakfast and dinner (typically the hardest meals to get me to sit still for) i still managed to skip out on lunch each day. Sometimes i come upon unusual days of low energy and high appetite, but they are few and far between. Until last week.

Within the last week i have slowly but surely been sneaking ever-so-close to three meals a day; not the most solid three meals in the world, or the most healthy, but three distinct servings at three separate times of day. In theory i’m all for this; i have no problem spending money on food if i’m actually going to consume and enjoy it. However, there is one slight problem in this situation…

I’m pudgy. There, i said it. At first it seemed like a subtle kind of thing, and i thought that maybe that i’ve had a few beers in the past month, but all of a sudden i have this tummy and it sticks out past my waistline and magically i’m twice as hungry as i ever am. I get just as much exercise (more than last year) as usual, and it’s not as if i’m getting any taller, and my meals vary from cereal to chicken to giant salads (no pizza, no hoagies), so unless this is my body’s way of preparing for some freakin’ seasonal hibernation, i’m not a happy camper.

https://crushingkrisis.com/2001/10/6764951/

Filed Under: food, health, self image

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