Crushing Krisis

Comic Books, Drag Race, & Life in New Zealand

selfy-stuff

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I actually hadn’t figured that out for years and years. I honestly thought that the echos swirling around in my own head and the occasional fleeting contact would be more than enough to sustain me. But i was wrong. I need an audience, a support system, and a friend. Or more than just one. What i do know is that we can transmit feelings through touch. Only two weeks ago i would’ve laughed if you told me that. Have you ever really held someone’s hand? Held it like it was its own separate conversation, where the squeeze of your fingers says more in the middle of a sad story than any hug or sympathetic word or anything else? I say all that i have said with my lips and other things, and sometimes the other things are just as important.

https://crushingkrisis.com/2001/01/2098988/

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I feel like staying at Drexel is like settling for obscurity. I will never be a rock star at Drexel. I will never be a Journalist at Drexel. I will never matter at Drexel. Is this defeatist? Maybe… but i don’t think so. I know i matter, but i just don’t know if i can make it happen here. Maybe that’s why i like the internet so much: for its ability to let me touch down in every city and town in the united states. What it comes down to is that i’m tied to Philadelphia, and the mere thought of leaving almost sends me into a fit of tears. If i transferred i would have to go to another city, and not just the outskirts of Philly or New Jersey. So, it might never happen. Justin is working on his transfer right now; last year in march i said i’d go with him. I still want to.

https://crushingkrisis.com/2001/01/2098373/

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My life weebles and wobbles but it just doesn’t fall down. I can’t explain it. Despite the most awful things happening, they always turn out for the best in the end.

My mother and i were essentially kicked out of our house at the end of my Junior year by the owners because they wanted to sell it. I had lived in that house for all but three years of my life. I refused to leave. My mother wanted to buy a nice little house somewhere verging on suburbia, but there was the small matter of my attending the best highschool in the state, which i would hardly have left just for senior year. In the end i convinced her to rent a house on the verges of South Philly, because i know that when she actually buys a place it should be one she loves, not one she settles for. It was all very depressing at the time, but Senior year wound up being one of the best of my life, despite all the shitty parts. I wound up living within walking distance of Gina and Anastasia, and i could actually take a shopping trip to South Street at my leisure. I had my own room on my own tiny third floor. Our kitchen was nice. I was happy.


Lots of other things have righted themselves over the years to keep my life going at its usual pace. I only got into a local university but they gave me lots of money and inexplicably wound up happy there. I almost didn’t find an apartment (chronicled at length in the first week of the archive) but wound up in a super-cheap and easily accessible one. But, life doesn’t always work out so perfectly. For some people, it doesn’t work out at all. I have too many friends who got into a local university and got zero money who are now unhappy and in debt. I know too many people who had to move home because they didn’t figure out where to live in time for the beginning of the semester. I know too many unhappy people.

Yesterday i confronted the fact that my smile might have finally become used up. For years and years i just glided through my occasional problems with a grin pasted onto my face, because they all got fixed eventually and life moved on. Suddenly i’m starting to realize that not everything fixes itself, and that i don’t know how much good cheer i really have left to get me through the bad spots


Imagine that… i’m 19 and just learning that “happily ever after” only really happens in fairy tales and first-date movies. I’ve never had to confront the possibility before; i always assumed that bad things only happened to people who weren’t thinking positively. Now i’m starting to realize that keeping a smile on my face isn’t the best defense, and that sometimes it cuts as cruelly as any situation i might be unsuspectingly plunged into. But my life is still all-good, and that scares me. No one is continually blessed. The gods only have so much attention to give.

https://crushingkrisis.com/2001/01/2097862/

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So, after my massive bitch session last night, today was about change. After two particularly bitchy comments this morning at the coffee shop i gave my two weeks notice. It’s a bit odd, because the shop is the first real permanent job i’ve ever had, and i love all my coworkers dearly, but at this point the experience is worth more in stress to me than it is in cash money. I could have theoretically stayed almost through April, but i’m not. Oh well. In other news, i might be moving. I’m not sure. I like this apartment a lot, but i think i’s much worse than a dorm room for me because i really am here by myself almost all of the time, which motivates me 0%. When Matt is here all he does is sleep on the couch or … um… occasionally sleep in the bed, and it’s a proven fact that the social state and work ethics of my roommates rub off on me, so… i don’t know. Moving would be a lot of bullshit, and i’d have to talk to all of our utilities and find people to help me move, but this place isn’t really condusive to my mental health right now, and i really need my mental health.

Other changes? I don’t know. I told Laurel that i had a girlfriend, and then i told her i’d cry when she leaves for Europe. The way i feel about Laurel is sorta the way you feel about that one special ex: benevolent and still attracted even though you know nothing will ever come of it. Of course, nothing ever did come of it because Laurel isn’t my ex or anything like it. What she is is a beautiful & intelligent true friend, one of my first in the theatre at Drexel, and i will never forget her.


So, there’s my positive day. Now i have to go and die… err… i meant sleep. Yeah. Sleep of the dead.

https://crushingkrisis.com/2001/01/2096459/

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I think the core problem is that you are reducing me to my words. It’d be really different if you were viewing me only in terms of my songs, or anything like that, but all this represents is a skewed, blurred, sarcastic look at my life. That you can read it and assume you’re almost caught up on the story seems so ridiculous to me that i can’t help but lash out. I can’t be your friend if your only interaction with me is reading this; this is a Peter supplement, not a Peter replacement. I feel shitty now, for a whole ton of reasons. I’m sorry i keep playing this same damned broken record. I’m going over my girlfriend’s now. I’ll be back on the blog in a few days. Enjoy the rest. Bye.

https://crushingkrisis.com/2001/01/2081125/