Crushing Krisis

Comic Books, Drag Race, & Life in New Zealand

SGapt

by

I’ve gotten to the point where i’m just leaving a fork in my box of precious precious cheesecake so that i don’t have to rinse off a new one ever time i decide to have a piece. Leaving me here alone for more than a day or two is rather dangerous, because everything loses all semblance of order without Matt around to make me feel self-conscious about it. I practically have the door barricaded with discarding clothing, shoes, and shopping bags, not to mention the musical war-zone. And, i’m still denying that the bedroom even exists, let alone how much it needs to be organized. I mean, didn’t i just clean before i left for Florida? ugh…

https://crushingkrisis.com/2000/12/1821069/

by

The apartment is like some sort of musical war zone right now… all of my guitars are out and about and the electric’s case is lying open right in front of the bathroom. Meanwhile, the amp has struck out a position exactly in the middle of the floor with it’s cord racing under the coffee table to connect with my bass, which is seated comfortable on the couch. My acoustic is thrown over the other arm of the sofa, and inbetween the two instruments my cd book is flipped open to the Peter Mulvey page. On the coffee table there’s some Bowie cds, my computer speakers, my cd walkman, an Ani DiFranco sheet music book, and a box of guitar picks. One speaker is connected to my computer (another cross-room cord) and the other is plugged into the walkman. My stereo is hovering slightly in front of the door as if anticipating a visitor, and behind it the amp is plugged into the wall (usurping my cd changer for the time being). Only Matt’s 5-string bass has managed to stay safely tucked away in the bedroom, awash in a certain fear that it might be called into action if my attention rests on it for more than a moment. Happily, my bedroom door is closed … there’s a whole other mess in there to deal with.

https://crushingkrisis.com/2000/12/1821009/

by

Now there’s two of them… i mean who stands in front of a window for twenty minutes having a conversation? I at least sit down in front of the window half nude, rather than standing (and if you were wondering about the logistics of it, we have lower ceilings than the houses across the street, so my third floor apartment is lower than theirs (thus they can see into mine)).

https://crushingkrisis.com/2000/12/1814427/

by

Obviously i returned to my apartment in a slightly soaked state of dress, so i wasted no time in stripping down to my so-called ‘gay pride’ unionbay tee and some undies. I was actually about to lose one of the two (i’ll leave it to your imagination) since they were both damp when i looked out my window and saw someone standing directly in the window of the apartment across the street from mine. He wasn’t turned totally in my direction, but the cross-bar of the window-frame blocked out his eyes exactly so i really couldn’t tell whether he was leering at me or not. After scratching myself to see if i could get a reaction out of him, i grabbed my multi-coloured afgan (stolen from home) and wrapped it around myself so that it looked like some sorta of crunchy hippy dress. I figure, if someone’s gonna be watching me the least i could do would be cross-dress a little…

https://crushingkrisis.com/2000/12/1814378/

by

Today is a simple day. Outside it’s all white. They had been predicting a large snowfall all week but as i drifted off last night i hardly even remembered it. I’ve been sleeping on the floor since i got back because my bed still has the results of my cleaning spree all over it. This morning my eyes were pried open by the scrape of a metal shovel against cold hard cement, and even then i didn’t remember. A quick glance out of my window found tiny shards of whiteness lazily drifting down towards the ground, and it was then i knew.


Snow just makes the day more simple: it’s presence acting like a giant blanket muffling all of the streetsounds that usually remind me that there is an outside world. Now it’s just me, my guitar, and my fresh box of hot cocoa. And, of course, you.

https://crushingkrisis.com/2000/12/1810917/