Crushing Krisis

Comic Books, Drag Race, & Life in New Zealand

thoughts

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Sometimes there is a most perfect version of a feeling, and it is shockingly round and easy to hold in your mind instead of being edgy and representative of all the things you were expecting to experience.

There is lust and then there is the perfectly shaped want that is rational and tangible… one sticky and rushed and intense but the other fluid and expanding to meet you when you are near to it, turning all of your tangents into quickly filled-in gaps. Want will press itself up against you until it is another skin on yours, and then you are consumed and it is more than just the sharp angles you thought it would be.

Right now i am the perfect kind of tired, with heavy-lidded eyes and my mind feeling just perfectly soft.

Tonight i took the train home from work with Maggie and we had pizza and lattés and wound up sitting four feet away from Andy Stochansky, who is like Douglas Adams with a guitar. Now i am in her guest room with an internet connection and a pile of new cds but i am the embodiment of the perfect curves of weariness instead of the slope of exhaustion, and the crickets have told me to turn down my music and let them lull me in their cannon chorus … vibrating like a tuning fork until i match pitch and shut out like a light.

I am hoping for a fetal sleep, round and tucked.

https://crushingkrisis.com/2001/09/5796334/

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Everything i write nowadays is toolong and verywordy. I can’t seem to help myself; i’m just not as omnipresently connected as i used to be and the things i have been wanting to say just build and build until they are no longer simple phrases or paragraphs. Do you remember when this used to be snap reactions to hardwood floors, or fuzzy butterflies swirling in my stomach and the awkwardness that always ensues as a result? Hardwood floors have turned into brick walls and sloped ceilings, but that special breed of butterfly does emerge from a cocoon every so often to do a loop-to-loop just beneath my esophagus. I’m just left wondering if it’s my intent, my writing, or my editing that changed along the way. Obviously it would have to be a little bit of all three… but, what don’t i talk about now that you used to expect to hear from me? I’d really like to know.

https://crushingkrisis.com/2001/09/5693168/

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The awful thing about that monstrous post is that it probably won’t make a whole slew of sense to you until i write two more multi-paragraphed posts about a) Liking a song deep in my gut regardless of whether i identifying with it and b) Why i listened to Pinkerton nearly all day yesterday, which found me occasionally on the verge of tears.

Bleh, whatever happened to just posting every fifteen minutes?

https://crushingkrisis.com/2001/09/5604582/

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Right about now you’re thinking something along the lines of “Wow, dude is so pathetic that he’s worried about being offline for four days. On a holiday weekend. I wonder if he could buy a life somewhere.” Either that, or “Wow, dude is so pathetic that he’ll do anything to get out of packing. Doesn’t he realize that it all has to get done eventually no matter what order he does it in?”


Your mileage will vary; feel free to indicate by how much ;)

https://crushingkrisis.com/2001/08/5377240/

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Wow, in honor of a whole year in the blogging biz i ought to change my tag-line from “Yearns, Burns, and Other Concerns” to “Mixes Better Metaphors than Martinis” or something else apropos. Do you realize that it’s nearly 5am and i have to be up at 7:45am and that i have a whole day of work ahead of me. No? Good, me neither.

https://crushingkrisis.com/2001/08/5316607/