Crushing Krisis

Comic Books, Drag Race, & Life in New Zealand

thoughts

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We are spiders, though only showing half of our limbs to the casual viewer. Yes, we have just four to walk stairs and climb ladders with, but there are others — for social ascent, occupational strides, and hanging on to love, maybe, though they could be for anything else.

We are spiders, and we trail a single string of us, our history and opinions and experiences, and as we turn in circle upon circle we leave behind a complex web of people and places that are bound to us.

We are spiders, and things get caught in our lives. Stuck in our web, they flail madly and desperately to escape, but wind up inexorably tied to all of our people and places as they thrash, leaving our once-perfect display of natural geometry in a tangle of bent angles and broken connections.

We are spiders, and our webs are not permanent structures. They can be elaborately expanded upon, or casually discarded, leaving us with just that single string of thread to create anew.

We are spiders, spending our whole lives weaving and catching and crawling and expanding, but sometimes the old web seems in such a state of disrepair that we should take our single thread and start again, keeping some elements but eschewing the rest, leaving our old structures to decay on the branches we hung them upon.

We are spiders, and I am arachnophobic.

https://crushingkrisis.com/2003/10/106762895148663779/

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I see those forward-leaning boys and think of high school, of tiny boys with overfull backpacks trying desperately to counter the weight. The boys i pass here at Drexel are the same as those younger ones; though they may have left their bags behind, they have not left behind that forward slouch — now leaning into the wind of their academic challenges as if it is still tangibly forcing them backwards.

https://crushingkrisis.com/2003/10/106736351940989900/

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I can’t remember the last time i had an entire week off. I cannot even fathom the last time it happened… before i started doing internships, and before i started working at the coffee shop, but sometime after high school ended. There is a three or four week window in there somewhere, and that is the last time i truly had a week off..

Last week my obligations, as if in cahoots with each other, all cancelled each other out. Between last Tuesday and this Monday i had a single class and worked for three hours, but for all intents and purposes i was off — with no responsibilities other than to myself. I hardly knew what to do with myself at the time, but i fell into a sort of rhythm: waking up a little late, doing something i had been meaning to do for months, playing guitar, running an errand, et cetera. Nothing of substance, just the things i would find the time to fit in if time were more hours in a day.

I know people who have worked every week of their adult life in order to support themselves. They impress me; even if i wanted to be i am not quite that independent. I also know a lot of people who have somehow managed to shirk all responsibilities altogether, and spend a lot of time achieving nothing. I’m not sure if they impress me, but i am amazed by them, because i do not know how not to achieve anything. Even with my dead week i still recorded three new songs, and read six books. Numbers. Events. Achievements.

Now that i am back to a normal week, i am suddenly unsure of how a “day” works, or what i am supposed to achieve within its restraints. My responsibilities are back, but i am unsure of what to do with them. Today i have actual classes and responsibilities looming, and i can’t even seem to set foot out of my room. And, if i were to escape it, i’m not sure what i’d even do afterwards.

Do i have a volunteer to go to Ethics for me while i work this all out?

https://crushingkrisis.com/2003/10/106631399772989979/