Listen to me

•March 15, 2007 • Leave a Comment

I tried to take the time and tell you what’s on my mind.
You smiled, nodded, even equated my things to yours.
But you didn’t listen.
I tried to say something coherent, something meaningful.
I’m sure I succeded.
But you didn’t listen.
I told you what was wrong
And how we could fix it.
But you didn’t listen.

Now I see you are upset and frustrated with something.
You neglect to tell anyone, you say nothing even though
I’m listening.
Now I see what’s bothering you and making you shut up.
I want you to say it.
I’m listening.
You still say nothing.
You fight fire with fire.
I’m done listening.

The Headache Continues

•March 14, 2007 • Leave a Comment

To those who are upset:

I’m sorry for accusing you.
I’m sorry for my tone.
I’m sorry I don’t have your money.
I’m sorry I can’t tell you how I feel about you.
I’m sorry you don’t understand me like I thought you did.
I’m sorry for needing a ride.
I’m sorry I can’t help you.
I’m sorry you have problems.
I’m sorry I have problems.
I’m sorry I won’t tell you this.

I am not sorry for who I am.

You and I are not at fault, We are to blame.

•February 14, 2007 • Leave a Comment

I’m not leaving you,
I’m leaving me
Or, at least the me I used to be
When I loved you.

I’m not going home.
Home is where the heart is
And my heart disappeared.
I may have dropped it in the snow.

We aren’t breaking up
So don’t break down.
I’m just skipping town
And never coming back.

My old self tells my new self that he’s sorry. Please pass it on.

*CROW*

parallel two one

•February 9, 2007 • Leave a Comment

Dear Higher Being,
Please send a benign tumor to my brain.
I do not wish any harm upon myself by this tumor.
I wish it to make me smarter.
Thanks,
Christopher Lee Crozier

parallel one one

•January 4, 2007 • Leave a Comment

Dear Higher Being,
Please send zombies to the earth.
I do not wish to be a zombie.
I wish to slay them.
Thanks,
Christopher Lee Crozier

I’m not made of steel

•November 4, 2006 • 2 Comments

Big Green Monkey, Everyone’s a Junkie

I have more addictions than I can count;
Some intangible, some invisible,
Some chemical, some physical,
Some explicit, some generic, some esoteric and unnatural;
All spare me one pain in exchange for one greater.
The smoke passes the lips before entering the lungs,
The same lips soaked in spirits, mumbling mundane musings.
I’ve never stuck the needle, but I can’t put down my pen.
I want her so bad, but can I handle it all?
Electrons scurry along to bring me my daily fix.
I stare blankly at the things I’ll soon forget.
Pixelated poetry and digital drama,
Eyes wide shut to the real panorama.
When I reach out, I’m buried in confusion.
When I stay inside myself, I’m naked and cold.

I’m not made of steel.

I’d like to explain what it is to be sane,
To spell out the names of these material games,
To sit and decide where to guide my mind,
Induce tamed infamy and avoid judicial fame…

…But I’m not made of steel.

I’m told to look on the bright side
But I rarely see the sun.
I’m supposed to be responsible.
I guess I haven’t learned how.
I’m jumping off a cliff to make sure I can climb back up.
So far, not so good.
I keep slipping…

I’m not made of steel.

I’ve never run away from my fears.
I take them in and let them heal at home.
But my home is not as forgiving as it used to be.
We have trouble getting along.
I wish my home would run away from me
So I could be the victim for once.
It’s a horrible thing to think, but I think it everyday.
I give myself too much credit.

I’m not made of steel.

I am clay on a wooden frame.
Mold me as you wish, on the inside I’m the same.
Show me the heat and hardening will follow.
Burn me from within and I will be hollow.

Becuase I’m not made of steel.

*CROW*

What is Ten Minutes?

•October 31, 2006 • 3 Comments

Ten Minutes.

What can get done in ten minutes? I’ll tell you.

I can make and eat a bowl of chili in ten mintues.
I can play two or three songs on my guitar in ten minutes.
I can go from any place to anther in this town by car in ten minutes.
I can laugh for ten minutes.
I can play some stupid flash game on a random website for ten minutes.
I can nap for ten minutes.
I can fight with anyone over nothing for ten minutes.
I can dance for no reason for ten minutes.
I can talk on the phone with someone I don’t know for ten minutes.
I can take a shower in ten minutes.
I can write a blog in ten minutes.

What can’t be done in ten minutes?

I can’t read a book for only ten minutes.
I can’t walk across town in ten minutes.
I can’t listen to an entire album in ten minutes.
I can’t forgive in ten minutes.
I can’t make enchiladas in ten minutes.
I can’t write a good blog in ten minutes.

So what is Ten Minutes? It is an arbitrary unit of time I have chosen to describe the smaller things in life. I can do alot of important things and take only ten minutes for each. There are imortant things I cannot accomplish in ten minutes. My point is, don’t forget that the simple things in life are just as important as the complicated ones. They are not to be overlooked in the busy-bee atmospheres of school, work, and play.

Just something to keep in mind. And now you know what I mean by…

Ten minutes.

*CROW*

Photoshops

•October 30, 2006 • Leave a Comment

I love photoshop because it alows me to be a part of the wide world of art on a new and expansive level. Here are some old and new creations of mine.


If you find yourself on a lonely path, ask the crow. He can help.


This was an album cover concept for my last band, Angle of Incidence.


I made this into a t-shirt for my solo music project Out of Retrospective.


Another band poster/album/t-shirt concept.


Old self-caricature at the Gates in New York. Yeah, I was really there.


Here is something that took me an eon and a half (which is about three days). I have the list of every actor up there along with what movie the picture comes from. Let me know if you want to see the full-resolution copy. I made it to fit on my desktop.

When I have some more projects brewing I’ll post some somethings.

I also need a scanner so I can get my drawings up here. One of these days…

Ten minutes.

*CROW*

Rap, rap, rapping

•October 28, 2006 • 1 Comment

I guess I should say welcome or some other corny how-do-ya-yack to get this thing started. I haven’t ever been much of a journal-writer/blogger so it may take me some time to get used to it, and more time to become interesting. I will start at the roots.

My name is Chris. Hello. I am sitting in an apartment on a dead-end street on the west side of a small college town called Moscow in the exciting state of Idaho. Basically, I’m four clicks north by northwest of the middle of nowhere. Now you have a sense of my geography.

Where are you from? you may ask, being somewhat of a universal ice-breaker.

Heritage-wise, I come from four different countries, being Germany, Japan, Ireland, and Scotland. Here is a diagram I made once:

Pretty nifty-spiffy, no?

No, but where were you born and raised?

The same town I’ve been in my whole life: Moscow, Idaho. I attended a private school here K-12th grades and have a year of credits from the University of Idaho. I’ve never been outside city limits for more than two weeks. Does that equal sheltered? We shall see. It’s not like I haven’t seen my share of sh*t in this town.

What do you do?

At the moment I am unemployed, so I’ll have to skip right to interests and hobbies.

Interests and Hobbies?

Through and through, I love art, be it drawing, writing, music, film, or whatever else. I will eventually expand on each of these individually, and hopefully upload some of my own works. I am also developing an intense passion for dreams and the paranormal, which intersect with my attempts at philosophy.

Where did ‘Crow’s Cause’ get its name?

My last name is Crozier, basically pronounced CROW-sure, and I have adopted Crow as a nickname. Other names people throw at me are Christmas, Stoph, Topher, and New Chris (this one is dying out since it came from a job that I quit). Frankly, you may call me whatever you want. I used to me known as Meathead until I started drawing a cartoon series about little one-eyed balls with sticks called MeetHeds. Maybe I’ll dig through my “archives” and find some old MeetHed strips. I doubt I’ll find any, though. Even if my sorry attempt at organization could be considered a filing system, it would be in need of serious renovation.

Shouldn’t you title this entry something like Frequently Asked Questions?

Although my format may resemble the ever-so useful FAQ, I have yet to hear any of these questions, so they are in no way frequently asked. I could call it PAQ: Possibly Asked Questions. I like that.

Well what the eff do you look like?

I look like this…

 

Oh, yeah. I love beer. Real beer. Dark beer. Guinness is my favorite, but I’ll go for most anything thick and rich. I’m setting up a rating system for beer quality. I will post it when it fills out.

When will this maddening PAQ end?

Ten minutes.

*CROW*

 
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