Crushing Krisis

Comic Books, Drag Race, & Life in New Zealand

memories

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In less than an hour i’ll be celebrating the one year anniversary of writing “Under My Skin.” Thinking about it makes me want to… cry? I almost hate when i crystallize a moment in time so perfectly into words and notes that sound good, so that i replay the moment every time i sing the song. Over time i’ve come to accept my slightly idealized account of what happened as the truth, when in reality it was only the truth of my perception. UMS is one of the lucky few songs i’ve written that have been liked both by me and my occasional audiences, and i’m grateful for having the opportunity to call it my own – even if it was a result of heartbreak. Even more important to me is that the song is accepted and adored by the person it’s about, although i still don’t think she truly understands what it (and she) means to me. This weekend i demoed the song in several configurations in the studio, and it will definitely be a prominent track on my next demo recording.

Anyhow, all of my creepy singer-songwriter issues aside, you can still hear my original recording of the song over at AMkitchen, as well as newer versions there and in the Trio archive. After a year it all still feels the same, even though it sounds a little different now.

https://crushingkrisis.com/2001/01/1900376/

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The funny thing is, i really almost would drop out of school if i found a reasonable alternative. Me… super-involved, happy… the kind of student that would commit hari-kari if my GPA dropped below a 3.5 for longer than a single quarter. I suppose what makes me remarkable (or, remarkable when compared to an average drop-out) is that i feel like a need a reason. In reality, i don’t feel like i’m getting anywhere. I don’t feel as though i’m being taught a single marketable skill, and i don’t know if i’m ever going to learn any. No one has managed to challenge me while keeping it interesting. Not once. Not since Junior Year of highschool. That year in my american history class i had to research a dead person. We had a picnic in a cemetery and we had to chose a tombstone of someone who died previous to 1900, and we had to write an outline of their life: pictures of where they lived, spouse’s name, what they died of, what hospital they were born in. I’ve never had to even contemplate a task as harrowing, and if a professor asked me to do the same thing again tomorrow i’d drop his class in a split second. In the absence of challenge i’ve grown so complacent and afraid of my own mental effort that i’m actually afraid to do anything intelligently. Should Philosophy have really been as hard as i made it out to be? Would it help you if you knew i didn’t read any more than 20 pages of any of the textbooks? What if i told you that i haven’t read more than 20 pages of anything the entire time i’ve spent at Drexel? Yes… i purposely handicapped myself and at last check i had a 3.6 GPA. It’s days like these i wish i made it into an Ivy League school … but my effort is all circular now. I need a challenge to rise to, but i’ll probably shy away from it anyhow.

https://crushingkrisis.com/2001/01/1866570/

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So, in true Krisis form, i was chatting with this incredibly cute inebriated girl last night, and she was sorta hanging on me more than i typically expect any person to want to hang on me. However, seeing as she was drunk, i just continued to have a conversation with her and eventually (after shaking my hand no less than 10 times) she left to go hang on someone else while i reflected that she was terribly cute and that it’s a shame it felt as thought it would be morally bankrupt to flirt with her.


Twenty minutes later we found her in a bedroom with the lead singer of the band. I had to open the door with a broom to make sure i didn’t get entangled in their little tryst. Eventually we locked her in a bathroom (she was gonna be in there a while anyhow, trust me) while the lead singer desperately tried to find her and then left in a haze of rock’n’roll.

https://crushingkrisis.com/2001/01/1829342/

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krisis: Well, i was totally coherent, but i lost all ability to reason. Like, i’d get to a corner and i wouldn’t be able to decide which way to cross.

matt: i see

krisis: So, if i saw any cops i was just gonna chuck my drink into the snow and avoid trying to cross any streets.

matt: My guess is with your ability not to reason you would have thrown it at the cops.

https://crushingkrisis.com/2001/01/1829328/

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I was jogging at about three minutes to midnight.

You see, i started off the night at Amy’s house, where there was a live band but where i knew hardly anyone. At about 10 i left Amy’s, promising to make it back for the ball drop, and headed to a second party at Karen’s. However, when i reached Karen’s house i found that i really didn’t know what floor she lived on, and stood on the porch dumbfounded for a minute or two, thinking i’d have to go back to Amy’s. Luckily, my friend Carlos showed up with no less than ten people in tow and proceeded to ring all four of the doorbells repeatedly until Karen came to the door to let us in. I knew slightly more people at Karen’s, but i found out that Carlos had arrived from his house party where nearly all of the Drexel Players had been stowed, so i eventually wound up there.

The Players were a blast, as always, and the highlight of my night was definitely a rendition of “Silent Night” done with a “Yo MTV Raps!” keyboard patch. However, when i looked at a watch (not mine, cause i didn’t wear one) i saw it was five minutes to midnite, and i had exactly five blocks to travel to make it back to Amy’s. After losing a minute to wrestling my way past a drunken gorilla-shaped acquaintance who wanted me to stay, i hit the streets at a jog. I nearly gave up halfway there, but i didn’t hear any shouting or anything, so i figured i still had a chance to make it. I go to Amy’s (almost breaking poor Tim’s nose when i flung open the door) with 15 seconds to spare on the countdown clock. Winded, i plopped myself down on a couch and joined the countdown.

That’s a story about jogging, which gets your blood pumping.

https://crushingkrisis.com/2001/01/1829297/