Crushing Krisis

Comic Books, Drag Race, & Life in New Zealand

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It’s funny talking about Love, because it’s a relative concept; i can’t have a pint or a mile of love and you can’t necessarily have more love than i do. I think that i will never say i’ve been in love unless i’m referring to love that i’m in, because 20/20 hindsight is to sharp and defined when love isn’t anything like that. Love seems like it’s warm and soft around the edges, so that you need to be half blind to appreciate it and so you can never really hang on unless you’ve got the perfect kind of grip. Liz asked me tonight if i’d ever been in love with a girl and i said no without even thinking about it. I’ll figure out how to get it in the right focus eventually, though. At least, i hope.

https://crushingkrisis.com/2001/07/4477175/

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and i’m just sitting here. i’m not much of a prayer, but i’m working on it; after all, she hasn’t even heard about the song i unintentionally wrote about her. whether it be for my selfish singersongwriter heart or the more direct version of the issue, please care.

This tiny trouble finally got the best of you
and made a nest in your heart and a lump in your throat
all that you possess will never mean as much to you
as that one small chance you missed
nagging at your heels just like a dog
trying to chew up the cover over what went wrong
because all of your excuses will expire eventually
tiny creeping wrinkles tucked into the corners of your eyes
a simple smile does not comprise a suitable disguise
a flick of the wrist a wrinkle of your nose
won't fix this although we all watch Bewitched sometimes
but no magic act can change the fact
that you got hung up on oh so fast
the phone in the cradle as fast as your able to put it down on the table
set the alarm for 5am just so you can get up with the sun
as if the brightness can drown out the din of all the worries in your head
you take the keys off the hook so careful there's no sound
and get in the car and drive around until you pass the playground
but it's too early for children to be appreciated
so you sit on a swing and you contemplate the situation
cause mourning doesn't hold all the answers
and you shudder as you feel the kick of that missed chance
and you use your feet to drag to a stop
but what will you tell them
what will they say
you shove your hands into your pockets
and your so afraid
it feels like days have gone by and you're still there waiting
just inhaling and exhaling that air that contains you
but your so afraid to dilate
to open up
back in your room at 6am
not a moment too soon for you
you close the door so nobody can see you
and pull that letter out of the drawer
to you it reads "don't bother trying anymore"
but you rip it to shreds
and go back to bed

https://crushingkrisis.com/2001/07/4476785/

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I wholly support other net musicians without any question or hesitation, because i feel as though musicians don’t use the internet to their best advantage. Thousands of bands are satisfied with having a domain name with a shoddy site behind it and their mp3’s hosted on mp3.com. This doesn’t make you a web-savvy band, this makes you the musical equivalent of a Geocities user. The opportunities for musicians more technically and musically savvy than myself are endless, yet Trio is the only feature of its kind that i’ve ever seen on an underground or professional artist website; even finding a few spare songs from someone who writes as a hobby is highly unusual.

The gentleman logging at TweeBiscuit is not only an excellent designer and a puppetmaster addict, he’s also a musician who has his own mp3’s on his site. I won’t get a chance to take a listen until i get back to work tomorrow, but seeing as i’m currently on musical hiatus while i attempt to record the songs for 25/24 i wholly encourage you to give this fellow teenaged songwriter the listen that he deserves.

[Did someone say “flatter”? The arist in question already posted a response in which he makes me out to be the net celebrity that i’m always trying to convince you that i am. Definitely a link worth blogging about.]

https://crushingkrisis.com/2001/07/4473624/

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Meanwhile, though i had nothing interesting to say to any of you this weekend, some things transpired. First, i finished the four instrumental pieces i was recording for Bill’s show that’s opening in Washington this week, which means i have a shot at playing at the Philly Fringe Fest. They sound very good, especially “Occasionally,” which is a Melissa Etheridge song sung simply to her beating on her guitar like a drum. I wrote a very Melissa arrangement for it on guitar and it sounds lovely and i might do it for the page tomorrow night if i get bored. Also, i was on PuppetMaster constantly this weekend because Ernie and Belinda were out camping and Bertie was galavanting around Washington DC with her exgirlfriend and Marissa. So, basically, it was just me and the puppets for 48hours. It’s not just that i get off on being the sole source of archival information for two whole game-days, i love how they all actually pay attention to my snarky little commentary and interact with me. But, anyway, today we lost Pete, who was by-far my favourite contestant in all possible ways (to read and to speculate about. But, i hardly hit on him at all. We left that to tom). So, i was a busy little bee this weekend between guitar playing, and hitting on imaginary people, and drowning.

https://crushingkrisis.com/2001/07/4459587/

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This weekend beat the crap out of me, and it didn’t help any that i got in tonight at 8. A lot of stuff transpired in my head but nothing made it onto here. I was walking home from the guitar store on Friday night and i passed the shell of a dragonfly dead on the ground; it was a battered exoskelton with the middles of its wings gone so it was just like a stencil of itself. I had something really profound to say about that on friday, but now i just wish i had a camera with me.

This weekend was exactly that… perceptions frozen in perfect little moments that don’t really click in recollection. Yesterday i swam for three hours straight, and i haven’t swam for more than a minute or two in over two years. It wasn’t easy, and today i’m in all sorts of aches and pains because of it, but i feel slightly more in shape now. I am out of shape. This weekend is the first time i’ve been in revealing circumstances (swim trunks) and people haven’t remarked on my thinness; in fact, they said i looked as though i had gained some weight. People think i’m joking when i say i feel heavy, but i’m not joking. I feel like some kind of parody of a supermodel always saying she needs to lose a few more pounds, but i honestly can’t stand myself at this weight. I know, i have issues.

People think i’m kidding about issues. I remember as far back as age 7 or 8 not wanting to take my shirt off at the beach because i didn’t like how i looked in just swim trunks. In middle school i got changed in the corner of the locker room because i was afraid that i was chunky enough that i looked like i had breasts (definitely not a valid concern). In high school i wore hospital scrubs in gym so that no one would see the round hairy legs that betray the rest of my build as being something other than slim or wirey. There’s a backstage picture of me from senior year where i don’t have my shirt on, and it looks like you can fit two hands around my waist or roll a marble down the center of my chest and it would stop in the puddle of my belly-button in the middle of my unreally flat stomach. I love that picture. I know that i was unhealthy and too-thin and that it made people uncomfortable, but i felt comfortable and didn’t mind showing my body off. Now i hide it… people at parties remark that i am spectacularly unglamorous latlely and laugh it off when i seriously reply that i feel too fat. And now everyone else is comfortable with my body except for me, and i don’t know which i prefer.

https://crushingkrisis.com/2001/07/4459359/