Crushing Krisis

Comic Books, Drag Race, & Life in New Zealand

thoughts

by

If you were leaving right now, what would you pack? I found myself thinking about that question last night. Would i bring my suitcase stuffed full of memories and spare socks, or just a tiny bag with what i felt was really necessary. I packed and repacked both bags several times, trying to find out exactly what i needed to get by, and here’s what i came up with (even if i still don’t know where to fit it all):

a box of tea bags and my favourite mug; all of my underwear and a week’s worth of socks; two pairs of jeans; my signed garbage cd; scissors; my checkbook; my poetry book, a pencil, and a pencil sharpener; four unionbay teeshirts, two short sleeved and two long; my flip flops; a picture of my aunt joyce and her daughter Cary; my camera; two pairs of gloves and a hat; my guitar; a toothbrush and q-tips; my red bandanna; a pair of pajama pants and a sweatshirt; my stuffed wizard.

So, at least i’ve identified my essential needs. Now i’ve just got to figure out where to go with them…

https://crushingkrisis.com/2001/01/2087717/

by

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/

by

One of the aforementioned sudden flirtations comes from a girl who is an absolute doppleganger of Anastasia, who (if you recall) i was madly in love with for my last year and a half of high school. Of course, now i can’t do anything about it at all because i’d be a lousy cheating bastard, but what really gets me is that i have my stage managers heckling me the whole time i’m talking to the girl, as if i’m gonna lean in and start necking with her. I have my own damned conscience to deal with!, i don’t need anyone else’s. I swear… people just don’t get me at all.

https://crushingkrisis.com/2001/01/2080950/

by

Ha! I write about hickeys and my friends flood me with messages asking about this new love interest of mine. Nice, guys, very classy (in the way that voyeurism is classy) Do you really want to hear about my life? I think you must, since you snap up all the juicy bits. Here’s one to mull over: did i ever mention how i don’t feel like i have any friends? I mean… i have a few close ones that i value greatly, but for the most part all of the people i call friends are just people i generally associate with or have something random in common with me. Most of them don’t really know anything about me, like my bouts with anorexia, or how i’m convinced i’m bi-polar, or about my small cancer scare. Why? Because i never told them, because i don’t feel like i have that kind of connection to them. Or maybe i just made all of that shit up. Of course i mention it here and suddenly they’re all crawling down my throat trying to find out what’s happening.


Wow, i can be a bit harsh, can’t i? Oh well … this is my life … either take the heat or melt.

https://crushingkrisis.com/2001/01/2080893/