christopher gutierrez

pee.

deadxstop@aol.com — Tue, 15 Dec 2009 23:17:50 GMT

you know, of all the papers and stories i wrote while i was in school, i dont remember much praise. the occasional "good job" or "i liked this part" may have slipped past but really, no teacher, friends or parents were ever overheard at dinner parties making much of a fuss over "that talented little writer, chris."

(probably because of sick run-on sentences like that)

i didnt mind though. maybe if i was trying and still hacked out white turds on paper MAYBE i would have cared but it was all met with the same casual indifference as when someone says, "holy shit, you really cant draw, can you?" and thats fine too. some people have it, some dont. some people are born with a natural ability to sing perfectly on key or draw an amazing frog or hit a home run... all while still in their single digits. i wont pretend to know why. maybe nature, maybe nurture, maybe they have abnormally large craniums. but what i DO know is that most of us are NOT born like that. so then why is there so much amazing art in the world?

perseverance.

i used to work at a pizza place as a dough roller. almost getting my fingers stuck in the old 1940's era cast iron machine for $4.50 an hour was almost worth the free pizza i devoured at the end of the night. i worked with this guy who was older. nice guy, big smile, huge muscles but really slow. like, legitimately had a learning disorder. but somehow, despite having trouble comprehending he still managed to graduate college. it took him more than 8 years but he graduated simply because he never gave up. failing the same class three times in a row and he still wasnt discouraged. back then, i mocked him behind his back but now, i can see just how strong he truly was. i couldnt put things in perspective from my little suburban mentality of entitlement. i was born with something he wasnt and i mocked him for not being up to my standards. but in retrospect, i wish i had his heart. his desire. his unbreakable spirit.

i wasnt born with money. i wasnt born ridiculously attractive. i wasnt born with an amazing body. but the few talents that i felt were actually nurtured were the abilities of charm and manipulation. strangely enough, by my father.
i spend so much time trying to run away from the legacy of my father and it wasnt until recently that i have chosen to salvage the few decent traits he instilled within me and make them my own. charm isnt always a positive thing and manipulation isnt always negative. its how you wield these talents, or any talents, that demonstrate your character.

while i was just taking a piss (in the toilet) i came to this realization; very few of us are born with natural talent. and while i would never call myself a "good" writer, i would say that i am evolving at being effective. and im sure some of you have your little talents. whether it is calculating numbers, making others feel comfortable, braiding your hair, baking a cake, jumping off bridges, organizing files, taking pictures, planting seeds, teaching others, or eating hot dogs, you absolutely must embrace that talent and nurture it in the best way possible.
maybe you will become successful, maybe not.
maybe you will have the ability to live off your talents, maybe not.
maybe you will feel embarrassed, maybe not.
maybe people will tell you that you're no good, irresponsible and unrealistic.
but who cares.

what the haters fail to realize that its not about being good.
its about WANTING to be good.
what the detractors and critics, unsupportive friends and anonymous commentors will never realize is that we have found something that makes our lives shine. that there is something we were born with that withers away and dies and leaves us old and rusted if it is not constantly watered from time to time with the creative spirit. that we may not have been born pretty or talented and sheltered from so many of lifes speedbumps by the fruits of our parents successes but that at the end of the day, we still paint.
we write.
we listen.
we help.
we hug.
and most of all, we create.
we give back to this world. a world where most people take and act like they deserve more.

and the only reason why i live like my glass is half-full, is because i know there are people reading these words who have hearts in the same place as mine.

so i want to say thank you to all of you who havent given in, thrown in the towel and said that life is good enough. its not about singing on key or painting within the lines or being office manager. its about the want, no... its about the NEED to produce and create instead of harvesting and compromising.

thank you for making my world a little prettier.

this video will make at least 1 french person happy.

deadxstop@aol.com — Mon, 14 Dec 2009 19:14:22 GMT

my speaking in one minute as told by dave cronin in paris.

destroying your friends page. not that anyone even uses LJ anymore anyway.

deadxstop@aol.com — Sat, 12 Dec 2009 01:47:48 GMT

so princess gianna fell victim to the N1H1, which normally wouldnt be that big of a deal (unless your name is brittany and feel the ugre to complain via twitter every 15 minutes about how life is so bleak) but my little boo is only 5, so to little kids and old peoples its a big fucking deal. so much so that she was hospitalized last night. i got mad worried and felt bad playing call of duty, but it was past visiting hours and really, i couldnt do much but pace back and forth, especially since my sisters phone was dead. grr. but this "morning" i woke up to a text of this:

from my sister saying, "she had too much fun. she thought it was better than the hotels."
i mean, is it even possible she can even take a picture that doesnt make you fucking smile? look at my boo, laying there suffering from 103 degree fever, eatin pizza and smiling like a little soldier.

- in other news, my other civilian boo from michigan, gheesling, is in a serious commercial. can we talk about how legit this shit is? i was so proud of her when i saw this that it almost made me piss myself with tears. and damn, lets take a moment to marvel at those chola eyebrows.

- and thank you to the katie who sent the happy birthday from ian mackaye. that shit was beyond rad. it will be framed and put on my wall.

- new handwritten frames are up for sale below. they will be available for one week ONLY then never again. and yes, you will get a fanzine with these as well:

back in the game.

deadxstop@aol.com — Thu, 10 Dec 2009 10:10:23 GMT

so today i finished up another half written story i had done for demonstrative monsters. i have all these unfinished stories on my desktop (have you seen my desktop?) that i forget about. some are set aside for certain books, some i finish, some i hate, some need serious direction but they all are the beginnings of a story that needs a home. some of those that were intended for DM that werent finished by print time will now be included in deadxstop fanzine #7 since i finally got off my ass and got them where they needed to be.
"so chris, how do i get one of these fanzines?"

well dear friends, ask yourself this? did you buy demonstrative monsters?
if the answer is YES, then its already yours. it will be in your little package along with this:

*and while he approves, it will not come with tupac.

holy shit, chris. all that will be mine? yep.
but wait... you're saying to yourself, "but chris, i didnt have the money/time/care to order your expensive ass book but i still want a fanzine, how on earth do i attain a copy?"

well thats easy... order anything from my deadxstop.com webstore between now and december 22nd and its yours, FREE! WTF, chris? are you serious. i bullshit you not.
books ship from the printer on the 18th and will hopefully be in my paws the 22nd. im going to do my best at getting them in the mail on the 23rd. odds are pretty good of you getting them by new years but dont freak if it takes 2-3 weeks due to christmas and chicagos postal service.

- in other news:
im feeling much better. i was walking down the street the other day and i was looking around and i finally felt the weight lift. i could actually visualize a new future and new opportunities, ones that i couldnt before because i was clouded with so much stress. oh, im nowhere near 100% but i am able to smile just because im breathing, and i havent done that in far too long.

- im really stoked about my rollerskate jam on the 27th (if you dont know what im talking about, scroll down and look for the baby tupac). yes, its free. and yes, my mom will be there, so behave. no, i have no clue how many people are turning up. it may be 20, it may be 500. im not making a dime off of this so either way im skating until i sweat through my shirt. it would be rad if you were there to watch me fall and possibly break a hip.

- i am currently running low on snow fairy. if anyone has any laying around and is concerned that one day my balls will no longer smell like glittery cotton candy, feel free to ship it on over.

- when i was out in australia i met these awesome little kids. they told me they had a band. i didnt think much of it. then one night they emailed me a link to their new songs and i reluctantly clicked the link because very little impresses me anymore. but then i found myself listening to the songs over and over and legitimately becoming a fan of their band. check out BIRD IS THE WORD here. hush, dont rush is the jam.

- tonight i was on stickam for 1.5 hours. is it weird to say that i had fun? charlie guest starred and asked for many n00dz. at some point, i got all burt reynolds zexy in my new christmas hoodie:

*look, it has balls.

- two new framed quotes coming very soon. both will only be available for one week.

"she is struggling for a life-raft while you're sailing away."

deadxstop@aol.com — Mon, 07 Dec 2009 23:00:20 GMT

dear friends, relatives, lurkers, haters, supporters and ex-girlfriends,

this will be my last post in reference to my most recent breakup. i feel the time and effort and words have become nothing more than self-serving and redundant. sure, i use this blog to vent/mock/dispose and it really has helped me mourn the loss but i cant move on if i dwell on this much longer.

now that the disclaimer is out of the way, let me say this: i figured it would get ugly. i mean, really. did anyone think it wouldnt? i knew the lies and accusations would come flying and i have done my best to weather the storm the best i could under the circumstances. call me a liar, a fraud, a coward... call me anything you like, thats fine, ive always been able to roll with the punches. but what you are not, nor EVER allowed to call me or even allude to is that i have ever hit a woman. to make vague statements that you know will be taken as an accusation of me being violent are not only 100% untrue but telling of a desperate and sad character that i am more than happy to have put distance between.
my hand to god/vishnu/allah/satan, and may god strike down princess gia if i am lying: never, have i ever hit a woman. (well, there was that crazy homeless woman who was about to attack kate, but hey, i didnt know it was a woman so i dont count that one.)

i just spent a few hours drinking tea with my brother discussing the traits of our father we see in ourselves, and i mentioned how i received an email from one of my other ex-gfs this morning (happy birfday, morgan) who made a comment about this entire "character assassination" campaign lindsie has been on. how immediately she takes to trying to fuck my friends because she knows how much it will hurt me. and hey, ive taken a lot of blows during this thing but the one i simply will not stand by and ignore are these allusions of violence towards women. any and all girlfriends will vouch for this and anyone who truly knows me or my character will know that i would sooner shoot myself in the face than raise a hand to a woman. i take great pride in the fact that is one of the few traditions of my father that will end with me, so i take any accusations of the like to be more than insulting and offensive but rotten and indicative of a person with a black soul.

also, if you guys could do my a favor and please do not email her or try to contact her in any way. please dont IM her, email her, visit her site or hack her accounts. she thrives on the attention and it is only making things worse on my end. and while i apologize that my hand has been forced to defend myself on something as so public as this, the best thing we can all do is to ignore her and hope that she moves on to the next rockstar.

again, i apologize that i have to even write this but i hope you understand.
thank you,

christopher

losing the battle to win the war.

deadxstop@aol.com — Sat, 05 Dec 2009 21:20:26 GMT

have you ever been sitting alone on a train or in a window of a coffeeshop thinking to yourself about how one day you will write "that" blog post? the one you know is coming. the one that is so inevitable you plan out the beginning, middle and end. what lines you would use and what would leave the most impact upon your readers?

this is that post.

its exactly how i expected it to end, you know? most of you are familiar with my last girlfriend. whether you met her at a speaking or from my writings, you know just how much i felt for her and the depths of my belief in her broken life. hell, a good chunk of my 3rd book, notes from the deep end, was about her. to say that i loved her would be an understatement. 3.5 years of never-ending infatuation. one would think there comes a point, especially in long relationships, where the light stops shining. that that person becomes a simple prop in your life. couch, television, girlfriend, nightstand. but she wasnt. i still watched her sleep and was amazed by her laughter. i touched her as often as she would allow and i would hold her even when she didnt hold me back. i paid for her, i supported her in directions most men wouldnt and i accepted her past because like ive always maintained, i judge a person based upon who they present to me now and what they desire to become. i knew it was a huge risk. everyone told me so. from you, to my friends to her friends to my family to her family. but im sure you guys know how it goes. no one sees how it is in the dark. in bed at 3am when they are so willing and vulnerable and talk of dreams and aspirations. you didnt see that. her. in the light of that darkness, you didnt see that little girl.

despite the odds, i fought for her. i believed in her even when she gave me every reason not to.
i talk a lot about believing in people because very few people have believed in me. i have this idealistic notion that maybe if i give back more than ive gotten that i can make my corner a little better. but like an abused animal that you take in, when it bites you because thats all it knows, you cant really be surprised.

i know some of you follow her writing. i havent read any of it since the post that was 60% truth, 20% exaggerating and 20% lies. but again, its how i expected this to one day go down. just sucks that this is all so public. but hey, its my fault for putting so much out there. the consequences for making this a window into my private life. but i havent really addressed it. i wanted to try and be the bigger man and hold my head up despite the mud-slinging. but for those of you who actually follow the drama and entertainment show, i feel that i am allowed to state my position. and really, its just a fucking blog, right?

i guess what im really getting at is the fact that i just cant shake feeling like a fool. i went against my good judgment and the combined opinion of the people i trust the most. i didnt take my own advice and this is why i ended up getting bitten in the end.
but i wont die. i will laugh today like i did yesterday and i will heal soon enough and i will thrash forward once again. and one day i will meet someone who knows how to say "thank you". someone who will hug me first. someone who will text me goodnight. someone who wont steal from me. someone who will appreciate the emails, the texts, the kisses, the little surprises. someone who will welcome me in their bed. someone who wont go try and fuck my friends the instant we break up. i will believe in someone again.

and i will continue to walk into the burning houses of women. and i will still hold them when they dont want to be held. and i will still hold out this dented and rusted brown heart of mine. because just like the ones that tried years ago, and the ones before that and the ones before that... none of you fuckers broke that shit. not one. and even after giving this thing every ounce of energy i had. year after demoralizing year saying, "all i am is a boy asking you to love him." i am ready, willing and eager to fight another war.

because all this fighting and believing will pay off one day.
it has to.

and today is a good day. because today marks something special.
the day that i stop hurting and begin healing.

that made me smile.

I don't regret the time we spent, but I do regret the day we met.
Because I've learned my lesson and I've learned it well, now there's no more secrets for you to tell.
For all it's worth. I'm still dreaming and feeling without you.
-bookworm, kid dynamite

- and i still kept your story in the book because its one of the last good memories i have of you.
even you cant take that from me.

11x17 poster

who wants to come meet princess gia in person?

deadxstop@aol.com — Fri, 04 Dec 2009 08:06:04 GMT

december 27th, 2009.
4pm - 6pm.
free - as a thank you to all of you who have supported me over the years.

USA skate center (AKA: mainstreet USA)
1303 Naperville Drive
Romeoville, IL 60446
Phone: (630) 759-1711

no beef or you'll get tossed. hard.
all 80s music. bring your niece.

i am.

welcome to adulthood.

deadxstop@aol.com — Wed, 02 Dec 2009 09:01:05 GMT

the last time i went to the doctor for a check up was probably somewhere around 1991. i have this aversion to letting anyone tell me how to fix my body, this goes for dentists especially. i mean, what is this 1482? do you really still have to use drills that actually FEEL LIKE DRILLS?!?
man on the moon.
movies download directly to my laptop.
my phone can turn on my television.
cars literally speak to me and you're going to tell me there is no way to get a root canal that doesnt make you want to punch a kitten in the face? fuck you, bub. i want nothing to do with your butchery, tyvm.

so my family has a history of heart disease. lots of people died really young because of this. i was born with a heart murmur which they told me it may or may not be a big deal but that throughout the course of my life i should get it looked at often. to which i said, nope. im also a grown ass man with a terrible sleep disorder and acid reflux. sigh. either way, all of this was enough to cause my mother to call her doctor and make me an appointment. so i reluctantly waltz in there and wrote this on the medical history chart:

"they tell me i was born with a heart murmur. apparently, it went away for my 8th grade physical then it came back in high school. i really dont know if im messed up or the doctors are but its all types of weird."

but everything came back good. we have a plan for my sleep that im trying tonight (note the bedtime!) and i was told that my heart murmur is gone. he told me, "its a non-issue." cool, i suppose. but then they took my blood and uh, i found out i have high cholesterol. oh fuck me. hes like, "well, you're supposed to be at 100 for bad cholesterol levels, and you're at 176." are you fucking serious? then he grabbed my mid-section (any girls who have previously dated me know how much i LOVE that, grrr) and said that i wasnt overweight so it must be genetic. cool. thanks again, dad.
so you know my paranoid ass went out and bought a ton of oatmeal and some herbal oil pills to make sure that shit looks respectable when i roll back through in a month because ill be damned if i have to take that lipitrol bullshit like those balding grey-headed old fucks. i mean, what would 7-seconds do, right? would you take a dude seriously if he was on top of a crowd, finger pointing, while screaming, "im gonna stay young until i die," after he just downed his daily lipitor pill to help maintain healthy cholesterol levels?
basically, what im trying to tell you is that pizza and hot dogs?... pretty much out of the question. as if life couldnt get any more rad.

- in other news:
if you live around chicago or will be in town you might want to keep december 20th, from 4-6pm open. ill tell you why soon.

- i am also featured in some book that came out today called 'we feel fine'. to be completely honest i dont know what the hell its about but they contacted me over a year ago to use a picture and a quote from me. all i know is it makes me sound way arrogant, so thats cool:

- also, my latest art installation:

- also, ive been totally obsessed with missing persons lately.

"you smile like you mean it. i smile because you need it."

deadxstop@aol.com — Mon, 30 Nov 2009 04:37:38 GMT

my tolerance is gone. i hung up on the lady who attempted to take my sushi order but asked how to spell my name too many times. ordered something completely different. my mood, my tastes were affected by the misunderstandings of a woman. actually, i was so frustrated that even now the thought of sushi makes me angry.
im not like this. i am not this guy. i sit in the same spot on the couch and brood like some teenage cliche. im that roommate. the one who never moves off the couch. i see the texts and calls inviting me out. offering solace.
"hey dude, lets get you out of the apartment."
each one is a tiny bright spark. a reminder that i truly do surround myself with good people. but they cant help. you cant help. they take me out, they move me around, they make me forget and allow me to find myself. but the thought of putting on a pair of running shoes or going to some social gathering is more than i can stomach. it takes all i have to walk the two blocks to the starbucks to get my green tea and yesterday i sat in a purple chair up against the wall without headphones and stared at the floor wondering how good would it feel to just curl up in a ball and lay there. not so much out of pity, not so much for my loss and not even out of the pain, but out of the frustration of knowing there is no one, no where that can make this better. none of you. oh and god i would love it if you could. i would give any of you everything i have if you could take this away. to make me whole. to give me back and get me back. make this happen and i am truly in your debt.

i opened a window to purchase plane tickets to anywhere since i have frequent flyer miles and credits just waiting to be used. i stared at a map and thought about renting a car and driving to nowhere. i mapped out what couches would have me and what cities had the biggest and brightest distractions. i closed my laptop, put a pillow over my head and whispered, "it wont be so bad in the morning. it wont be so bad in the morning."
its funny to read all these words, all these posts, all the books and think they were my fingers. its easy to be positive when the sun is shining, your moms invites you over for dinner and you have a little money in your pocket. but maybe thats what they are. not books for you, but for me. letters written in the past for a injured future. to bring me back and remind me of the person that i am.

because all of the hate, spite and animosity... all of the terrible words, evil texts and ugly threats. all the accusations, exaggerations and outright lies, yeah, they fucking sting. but i refuse to sink to that level, it would only make this so much worse and prolong this detour on my journey and ive got things to see. and character shines through during the darkest of times and honey, your light is out.

and my nights may be long and my songs my be ruined and my pillow may be my only confidant... but i havent given in to those terrible thoughts just yet. and if i make it out of this alive its only because i truly believed those words i wrote with these very same fingers.

because i truly am unbreakable.

for her.

since 1994.

deadxstop@aol.com — Sun, 29 Nov 2009 03:30:08 GMT

i didnt know her all that well, only that she was the best friend of my current crush and loved the dog sidekick of the popular cartoon cat, garfield. i dont think we spoke. ever. but the night before my mother brought home a package of stickers for me from the store. one side was garfield, the other, odie, the canine sidekick.
i fucking loved garfield. some of my fondest memories of elementary school were when we were handed the newsprint arrow flyer selling overpriced childrens books. i would run home and circle damn near every book about bugs, choosing my own adventure and, of course, garfield. that damn cat seemed to put out a book every 6 weeks and you wore your garfield completest collection like a badge of honor. but i simply couldnt stand that fucking dog. always so clueless with his stupid tongue hanging out, he irritated the shit out of me. he was a patsy and a moron and i was in the smart kid classes and had felt the growth spurt in my superiority complex. i had no time for his stupidity and i certainly didnt want his dopy face emblazoned across my return of the jedi trapper keeper.

i left the house 15 minutes earlier than usual the next morning so i could get a closer spot to the school doors. why it was some kind of honor to be the first through the door and into class was beyond me. school was only a 7 hour penalty box preventing me from egging the house next door, attempting to poison the neighborhood dogs and playing politically incorrect named games of 'grab and tackle' in my front yard. i had no aspirations of being there one minute longer than i had to be.
the bell rang, the doors unlocked and i raced in. sticker folder in my right hand. i ran up to the second level where our smart kid classrooms were separated from the commoners, looked around and noted i arrived even before the teacher. i paged through the folder; past the scratch n sniffs, past the puffy stickers and the coveted star wars stickers until i came to the garbage section reserved for stickers used solely for trades. i rushed to find the right sticker sheet. slowly people began filing in. i needed to hurry. i pulled out the odie sticker sheet, ran over to gretchens desk and placed it under her name tag then ran back to my desk. terry saw. terry the rat who told the teacher about the time i tried setting the school on fire (not intentionally) and the time i carried a butcher knife to school in my jeans. if i could find that dude now as a grown man i promise he would walk away with a black eye. gretchen walked in and started taking her coat off to hang on the green hooks that aligned the wall. i saw the evil grin grow across terrys face as gretchen walked back to her desk. she stood for a minute, looked down at the stickers, looked up and side to side before she asked to anyone who would listen who had put them on her desk. terry immediately shouted, "chris did!"
my face ran hot with blood and tears began to uncontrollably well up in my eyes as 25 kids pointed and laughed.
someone blurted out, "chris loves gretchen."
i sat at my desk looking at my lap and i said nothing as they laughed and said, "ooooooooh."

the first attempted altruistic moment of my life, ruined. i just wanted to look across a room and know i put a smile on someones face. i wanted to make someone feel what i would feel when my mother would make me feel like i was the worlds most wonderful little boy simply by being alive and breathing every day. i was young and clumsy. it was a sheet of stickers and a few minutes of embarrassment. but after the last bell rang and the laughing subsided and the tears were absorbed back into my eyeballs, i looked up and saw gretchen holding the stickers and smiling. she looked across the room at me and i immediately looked away. i felt hot needles of shame around my neck so i waited to move until the teacher instructed us to sit on the floor in a circle to prepare for show and tell. i got up from my desk and sat down on the floor. i looked at gretchen and she was still holding the stickers. i smiled. she looked up and smiled back. it was a feeling that has never left me. not the selfish appreciation or satisfaction but knowing that somewhere within my damaged machine i have the ability to put a smile on someones face no matter how fucked my life is. and i like knowing that the smiles of the world are my inspiration. to not give up. to not give in. and to never lose steam.

deadxstop fanzine # 7
demonstrative monsters B-sides

december 2009
free

kind of.

the real notes from the deep end.

deadxstop@aol.com — Thu, 26 Nov 2009 10:32:55 GMT

they say that holidays are the worst. it never made sense to me until today. because before this last relationship i never felt that i had my own family. but i felt it. all the rest were simply "girlfriends", but she was a future i wanted so badly but could never have. i knew it, but it never changed how many betrayals i was willing to forgive because all i wanted was for her to wake up one day, roll over and say, "fine, yes. i will be in love with you forever."
to have someone look at you with a future reflected in their eyes has got to be the greatest feeling of all time. but to have two separate creatures feeling the same levels of infatuation, trust and wonderment, its sad to think of just how rare it is.

to think of how it all could have been fixed, been everything everyone wanted in a matter of a handful of seconds and a well thought out paragraph. to think that things could have been better if the touch was longer, the kiss was more real and the words weren't lies.

i am loose. i am floating in this open water holding my breath in fear of saying her name. in wondering where she is. in completely abstaining from reading her words and listening to her voice. i have lost my half. the one person i shared a bed with that i thought was legitimately cool. like, fucking cool. but i want to feel loved. and i want to be paid what i am worth. just once. just once i want to love someone with the same intensity that they love me. i am terrified that one day i will wake up at the age of 83 and finally concede and pick the least shitty one out of the old folks home or the homeless shelter that i call home.
but im just being over-dramatic. its what the 4am bedside light does to me. and when i wake up and open my laptop and read this i will feel slightly embarrassed because like ive always maintained, no one needs to hear 'woe is me' journal rants anymore. let the professionals do it because they make what we feel sound more eloquent and valid. but what i want you to know is that this is real. these are the real insecurities of a grown ass man before he goes to sleep. tours and books and friends, none of that changes the terror of hearing that click of the bedside light and knowing i have to lie here alone in darkness with an uncertain future and no one who will even listen to the vocalization of those fears. another night typing away in to the void of the internet. i dont even really know who is listening anymore. and tonight, im typing away like i did in 2002 when i had a deadjournal and knew no one was reading. and someday i will have that love again. even if it takes another 30 years to find it, i will. and i will never let her go. i will never let a single day go by in which she doesnt know she is loved. and she will be the one to break all the spells and help me slay my dragons and i will tell her that she is wonderful and stunning in my eyes and in my heart and i will stare at her long after her eyes begin to flutter and the sun begins to light up the room and i will whisper to her over and over again, "i want no one but you."

i will get through this. all i have to do is to continue to go to sleep and continue to wake up. over and over, again and again. but until then there will be a constant stream of tossing and turning and stomach nots that begin with that click of the light. so i spend hours reading and rereading your blogs and i waste time typing words that delay the inevitable.

goodnight.

click.

i am embarrassed.

deadxstop@aol.com — Wed, 25 Nov 2009 00:12:35 GMT

swinging at the air.

deadxstop@aol.com — Mon, 23 Nov 2009 02:13:15 GMT

it wasnt until fairly recently that i truly understood the concept of evolution.
for my birthday a friend of mine took me to an amazing dinner downtown. while we were standing in the foyer i noticed they had a book about old chicago. it was amazing to look at all of the photographs and see the streets that i ride my bike up and down on a daily basis filled with horse drawn carts. its like you see that one building and say, "i know that that is clark street, i know that intersection, i pass that building every day... but its crazy to imagine that al capone used to eat dinner there and now its a tmobile store."

i talk about evolution of character often. the strides we make, the friends we lose, the relationships we gain, the jobs we move past and the love that comes into focus. but what i never truly internalized is the fact that it doesnt stop and you cant control it no matter how badly you want to freeze time.
the nights you spend staring into eyes will never be the same.
the circle of friends you have is constantly expanding and contracting.
the neighborhood that has given you a backdrop to your childhood will be unrecognizable as an adult even if the buildings dont even change so much as a color.

its something we cant control. nothing you know of now will ever be the same. the girls and boys you kiss will evolve. the relationships you share will be tested. the jobs you have now will one day become nothing more than an interesting anecdote over dinner and your parents will not always be there. your dog will die, your cat will get old and the body you think is gross right now will inevitably get worse.
everything you know. every last thing you know will change. to be honest, this is the thing that has been bothering me the most lately. the inability to stop time. its so frustrating it makes me want to take swings at the air and hate god. but what i realized while riding my bike down ashland avenue today is that just because everything is moving along, doesnt mean we dont have a decent shot at controlling the direction of the boat. we cant stop the water but we can control the current.

terrible jobs will only eat away at our souls.
vapid friendships will steal time, and unhealthy relationships will not only rot but become breeding grounds for animosity.

we might not possess the ability to stop the flow or to freeze kisses and emotions. and while we can attempt to capture moments in pictures and video, know that every flash, every button you push and every kiss you pull away from is the mark of an ending and the shine of a beginning. we move forward from here. when you close out of this window and go about your day nothing will be the same. me, you, your pets, parents, relationships. every single last thing will change.

a persons past is nothing more than a story. a stepping stone to what we have become. but what truly makes who we are, our character and the only thing that we should ever judge each other upon is what we are doing now and what we aspire to become.

my life moves. and i hate it.
by growing bitter and old we allow the current to take us...
but by growing older and maintaining a hold on aspiration, we allow ourselves to evolve past those who attempt to keep us on the bottom branch of life.

because the tree keeps growing regardless if you're too tired to climb.

bringin' it down.

deadxstop@aol.com — Sat, 21 Nov 2009 04:02:41 GMT

"We have seen the backstab blood

Most came and fuckin' went

They played the part

And they wore the right clothes

But they didn't know

What the fuck it meant"

a post where we end by mocking dave cronin.

deadxstop@aol.com — Fri, 20 Nov 2009 09:09:57 GMT

well, the book lasted less than two days. you kids slayed. i think im going to make posters to accompany the books that were sold. woo, free things. well, maybe not so much free but stuff you werent expecting. oh, wanna hear something funny? so scroll down and read the 10 things you should know BEFORE ordering.

BEFORE!!!

wanna guess how many emails i woke up to that began, "oh, i didnt read the instructions so can you change..." or "oh shit, i put in my wrong address".... guess...

24.

sometimes i love you kids to death. funny enough though, most of the mistakes were made by YOUR PARENTS! god bless their little hearts. i just want to let you know that if you were one of the people who sent an email, well, you're not alone at not paying attention. its okay though, i used to get progress reports sent home in 3rd grade saying how i didnt read directions thoroughly so we can be in the same boat. only im not in 3rd grade anymore. either way, ill send you a progress report saying that you fail at the internet then you can hand it to your parents and put it on the fridge so they can see their failure on a daily basis. cool.

- so i got a snuggie for my birfday. and i wear it. while gaming. so what.

- odds of there being an official deadxstop publishing corporation christmas party are VERY good. (yes, the jews and muslims are invited too. but none of those damn pagans, we dont like your kind here, hippy) and the odds of there being roller skating are even better. stay tuned for deets.

- also there was this small news bit in boston on straight edge. i dont hate it. which is surprising since most of the time they just say its a gang and straight edge kids beat people up. sigh. i like the fact they actually use the word "philosophy".

- and then theres this kid who even after 17 hours still hasnt given modern warfare 2 a chance. what a n00b. but thats what you get when you live on an island of rain and the soundtrack of the smiths. wait... i think this might actually be cronin with a wig:

come on, tell me he doesnt look like cronin with a wig. i mean, all he needs is a korn shirt and you might as well start screaming for a 2*sweet reunion.

DXS007 pre-sale.

deadxstop@aol.com — Tue, 17 Nov 2009 07:15:46 GMT

SOLD OUT.

10 things you need to know BEFORE placing your order:

1. all prices include shipping.
2. all books will be signed to whatever name you like. example: "to: fruity-dog. love, christopher." add this in the text box where it says "add special instructions to the seller." if you forget to do this, your book will only say, "love, christopher."
please dont ask me to write a ton of stuff. i have to do this 150 times in addition of packaging and shipping. it will only bum me out and in turn, delay the process.
3. only 150 of these will be made ever. no, there will not be a soft cover printing.
4. current estimated ship date is between dec. 17th and christmas, depending on the temperament of the new printer. be aware that there is only a slight chance you will receive your book before christmas.
5. please double, triple and quadruple check your shipping address.
6. and please do your best to understand that there is only one person making this book arrive in your hands. emailing me to tell me you want a different name on the inscription or an address change will only confuse my old brain, cause me to throw my hands up in the air and play call of duty in frustration. this, of course, will increase the odds of your book getting lost in the mail, sent to the wrong address or arrive later than expected. be gentile.
7. this is a HARDCOVER book containing 10 non-fiction short stories about my life about the size of 'on the upswing' and in the vein of 'a life deliberate'. and yes, there are pictures.
8. this pre-sale will end when (and if) it sells out.
9. there are no "but its me's". meaning, if you ask me for a free book you clearly dont respect me as a friend.
10. today is my birthday.

Battle plans for future histories

deadxstop@aol.com — Sat, 14 Nov 2009 10:16:39 GMT

1993.
“It’s over.” I said.
There was a pause, a rise in the visual intensity level behind her eyes and a swift punch to my jaw.
I walked back to my car sobbing like my lungs were too small. I slammed my fists down and down and down on the steering wheel and screamed to every living thing, “I will never allow myself to be hurt again. I swear to fucking God.”

2001.
“Are you sure you want to do this?”
“Yes.”
And she walked out. I sat on the armrest of my couch and let the tears slowly run down my face and on to the carpet. I was a sad sight and I knew it. So I set up a camera to capture just how low and pathetic I allowed myself to become.

2002.
“Fuck you,” she said and slammed the door.
I stepped on the gas and thought about racing into oncoming traffic. It would be fast and I’m sure I wouldn’t feel much.
I felt the slow creep of death overtake the next month.

2006.
“One day we will greet each other with a handshake.”
I let go first, held her face and kissed her lips. And walked out.

I never died. The air came to my lungs, the words returned to my fingers and my face repaired itself with a smile.
I rarely bother anyone with the details – I need to know I can do this alone. It tempers me, it makes me stronger. And if I just keep my head down and keep walking, I know – I am absolutely fucking positive – that time will do its job.
I pass people on the street and am certain that each and every last one of them has felt hands squeeze and attempt to crush their motivation, their will to live and the light behind their smile. I know that each and every last one of them has cried over loss.
And I look at each and every last one of them as an example of perseverance and survival.

I am only alive because you still know how to smile.

2009.

DEMONSTRATIVE MONSTERS
pre-sale begins 11.17.09: 3am chicago time. 8pm sydney, australia time. 9am london, england time.
150 copies ever.
hardcover. $60us/67can/72world. ppd.

apologies in advance.

deadxstop@aol.com — Wed, 11 Nov 2009 09:13:48 GMT

fine. fuck it. youll get me at a moment of weakness.
i can already feel the "you're going to regret this in the morning," but fuck it.

you can sit all day online and read about peoples sadness of breakups. the post sensitive-artist drivel that pours out of their mouths and on to blogs around the world. there certainly is no shortage of that. and god, you certainly dont need to read that. but truthfully, i havent felt much. its as if its not really happening. i havent cried or even felt the urge to. which is strange since i have lost it after ending things with girls i barely even cared about. maybe most of those were about the fear of being alone but i think im actually pretty okay with being with me and my head. and really, i have so many of you to thank for it. the more you go around talking about things, the more you learn coping skills. well, thats what the doctor said on the documentary i watched a few nights ago about people who survived plane crashes. but i think the emotions i placed on breakups back then were really misdirected because i simply didnt want to be alone.

but this time is different. oh, listen to the cliches already.
see, i havent mourned. i havent opened up. every last person who has asked me what happened i have told them, "it was just that time,"... which really is just bullshit. its no reason. its the reason you give when you dont want to go into just how badly the other person wrecked you. when asked, "how are you doing?" i have responded, "im fine," no less than 100 times in the past day.

i truly am stoked that i would have so many people out there willing to listen to me. i am thankful of this every waking hour. but this thing, like all breakups, is done alone. you can talk all you like but no one holds your hand while the thoughts of that person making out with someone new race through your head at 3:18am. no one is there when you realize you will never hear that laugh or feel her hands as she played with your hair or the way she depended on you. because it was awesome that she depended upon you. because it made it feel real. fuck all the psychological bullshit about it being unhealthy, it was rad when she looked to me for advice. it was rad to know someone who truly knew me. me. not the funny me, or the writer me, or the internet me, or the pizza guy me... but the me who likes putting my feet on the bottoms of your feet. the me who would just stare at you from across the room even after three years and just watch you yell at a computer screen and think it was more adorable than kittens. the me who thought you were funnier than anyone and everyone combined. the me who thought you were "cool", like fucking cool. the me who loved the smell of your dirty hair. the me who found it endearing when i saw your dirty underwear. because thats how real it was. more real than any of them combined.
(no offense to those who still read this)

and sure, maybe its fucked up that i still wake up with a smile. i eat just fine and go about my day. i laugh and order food and get tea with friends and shop and my life hasnt missed a beat. not a skip. not a moment staring at a blank wall. and that sucks. because i know what that means. it means that i am not prepared for this type of devastation. my brain and heart have not come up against anything like this and they are shutting down. like preparing for hypothermia, they are shutting down parts of my body to protect my core. but its only a matter of time before the bomb drops. before the cold takes over and i feel it. i know what wreckage feels like and if i hold my breath and pretend its not happening, its not happening. but see i have taken it all and walked away from: 5.5, 3.5, 5, and 3.5 year relationships. yeah, add it up. none. none have come close. none WILL come close to this level of devastation.

you know i talk to girls now and it feels hollow. i say the words and play the game and none of it is real. my mouth moves and my brain is just shaking its head from side to side in disappointment. its all words. its all well put together phrases designed to evoke a response.
wanna see?
"you look adorable today. i love what you did with your eyeshadow." instant smile.
its not a lie... but i know what im doing. i wouldnt say it if i didnt mean it but i also know what emotion it evokes. its like i have been cursed because i have studied how to speak to people, how to captivate peoples attention and how to write the words. again, they arent lies. but they are intentional.

i hate this. right now. i hate the fact that i never had to pull any of that bullshit with her when i did with every last girl i even kissed. and you know, its a fucking embarrassingly long list. and not once, well maybe in the very very beginning, but never did i pull that bullshit with her. you know why, because she called me on it. for all the shit i talked she was beyond brilliant with a bullshit meter that could tell the future. and i needed that. i needed someone to call me on my shit. because no one ever did. and yeah, maybe it was messed up and dysfunctional and messy but fuck it was real.

so ill fall asleep just fine tonight, just like i have for the last week. no worse sleep than usual. no staying up late pouring words into some secret journal. no bad mouthing her to my friends and no spontaneous bursts of sobbing. and thats fucked. because i know its coming. more than it ever has before, its coming... sweet, just in time for my birthday on tuesday, the release of a new book, thanksgiving and maybe even christmas.
so yeah, things are "fine" right now. but they wont be.

hey, you said you wanted to listen.

the irony of battle plans.

deadxstop@aol.com — Tue, 10 Nov 2009 00:38:47 GMT

its funny when even kelly clarkson songs begin to have meaning. its also an interesting time we live in when its not so much the words that cut the cord but the click of the 'relationship status' on facebook profiles.

and just like the one before and the one before and the one before her, i will keep my chin up and maintain a smile because next week wont hurt as bad as this week and next month wont hurt as bad as this month. come summer time this will all be but a faint memory obscured by time and the clarity of black and white.

because this is how its always been.

its the rare instance when time is actually our friend.

single.

please be respectful.

DXS007 update and potential kangaroo sex?

deadxstop@aol.com — Sun, 08 Nov 2009 05:26:45 GMT

on the off chance you havent been keeping up with the to-dos of my life, well let me tell you about how im putting out a new book next month. NEXT MONTH! this is crazy-talk, chris. well its true. but heres the catch. there will only be 150 of them printed. evar. it will be hardcover and yes, expensive.
but let me tell you how stoked i am on this book. but chris, arent you stoked on all of your books? well, sure. each one is like an illegitimate love-child that i get to share with the world. wait.
anywho, when i meet people and have to have the 'oh, so what do you do?' talk, i say im a writer. to which their immediate response is, "oh, can i have/buy one of your books?" nice that they're interested but i dont really have a book that truly represents the short-story style that im most happy writing.
ok, yes, my first two books (on the upswing, which is sold out and a life deliberate) are that style but they're older and i feel that i am a much better writer than i was back then. dont get me wrong, i love the stories, i just feel that i could have told them better. (but dont let that discourage you from buying one of the last remaining 100 copies of a life deliberate over at deadxstop.com, kisses).
my 3rd book, notes from the deep end is sold out as well, my 4th book, selected works 2004-2008 is awesome and all but its all LJ rants and my newest endeavor, REMNANTS is my proudest yet but i only have one story in the damn thing.
so...
i wanted to write something that i can hand someone without excuses. without having to say, "well, this isnt exactly what i usually do," or, "its sold out," or, "well, this book is like my demo tape."

i cant say the title just yet because i have to make sure i can use this image first because it would work so perfectly with what im looking to do that if the artist wont give me permission im going to change the title of the book. yes, im a nerd. but i will tell you it is 10 stories in the style of my first two books and it will go on pre-sale on my birfday, november 17th.

- and now i will leave you with a video of me running game on some marsupials:

apt 203.

deadxstop@aol.com — Fri, 06 Nov 2009 09:44:08 GMT

we talked about the old apartment today. me and boo. simple talk about playing video games all night. we laughed until i felt the familiar sting of nostalgia come on. i never saw that place as anything more than a transition hole between where i grew up and where i landed in chicago, yet we lived there together for 6 years.
second floor, above the roaches and drug dealers and addicts. mashed potatoes on the ceiling and vomit on the couches. filthy. but today i missed it.

some day i will look back at these moments lying in this bed as a memorable time. the nights of pizza and video games here will hold warm memories and i will wonder whatever became of so and so despite spending hours talking with them into the early morning hours. i will forget names and faces. people and addresses will slowly fade from my memory and i will be living another chapter.

its sad, really. people rust. they evaporate. they slowly erase. and we wonder what happened. was it our fault or theirs? did we neglect the friendship or did they no longer need what we had to give? the boys, the girls. one day their names will begin with, "you know, whats her name."
its tough when you realize that the nature of relationships is constantly evolving, despite every attempt you make to make it last. to live in love. to freeze people in memory.

the rest of my life will be a continuous series of beginnings. of handshakes and text avoidance.

someone freeze me.

the top five video games of all time.

deadxstop@aol.com — Wed, 04 Nov 2009 06:28:35 GMT

yars revenge:

when atari was in its heyday, yars revenge spearheaded my obsession. it was clean and simple, not jerky and awkward unlike its lost in translation arcade cartridge counterparts like donkey kong, pac-man or frogger. yars revenge was simple yet addicting. your little ship had to eat away at the orange shield all while the little flashing dot was trying to get up in your ass. as simple as pong, as brilliant as snake and almost as hard to advance like ET for atari. the great thing about atari controllers was they were durable as a mofucker and my ass was throwing em like it was my job. say all you want about early video games being aesthetically unappealing, those games were goddamn impossible.

mortal kombat 2:

while the original MK and MK3 were awesome, nothing really sank its claws into me like MK2. this was what spawned my arcade mid-90s revival. sometimes we would have to bring extra shirts because of how much we would sweat while dropping tokens and wanting to strangle the buster who kept doing that damn mileena roll over and over. many nights were wasted and many controllers were broken playing this for the SNES. while one tour last summer i stayed at a friends house. he had an MK2 and when we started playing i immediately got that "imma bite the shit out of this controller" feeling back, so much so i had to put it down and walk away. because it was always the controllers fault. ps. flips were for pussies.

galaga:

the original allowance stealer. this game dominated 80s arcades more than any weed dealing burnout ever could. i remember seeing it for the first time and all the quarters the kids in the iron maiden shirts had lined up along the screen waiting to get "next". it took weeks before i found any down time to sneak in a game. i fell in love so hard that i almost came in my pants when in the winter of 96 my exgf bought me the actual arcade game for my birfday. it still adorns my living room and plays just as well as it did in 1982. sometimes i just sit and stare at it like it is a 200 pound piece of art.

robotron 2084:

you want to know what intensity is, play this fucking game. if the screen shot below is an indicator of how much of mess this game is you have no fucking clue the world of insanity a quarter would buy you in the 80s. no game before or since shreds like this mofucker. none. by time you press start on the game you've got about 18 seconds to slay your way through a never-ending onslaught of robots. its pure fucking anarchy. no skill or tactics are involved because you dont have enough time to even think. by time the phrase, "holy fuck this game is insane" comes out of your mouth the screen is already reading 'game over'. if los crudos and minor threat were a video game, this is what you would mosh dive to.

call of duty:

since the late 70s i have been a boy fixated on video games. i remember when pac-man was the new national obsession, when frogger was cutting edge, when dragons lair was next level, when NHL 93 still had blood, when NBA jam was the jam, when golden eye for N64 made you want to fight your friends, when silent scope was brilliant and when guitar hero made kids never want to play a real guitar again. what im saying is that having been there and played it all, the call of duty series (modern warfare/world at war) is so truly life-enveloping that it feels like you're killing actual nazis. so much so that a rabbi credited it with him getting over his fear of them. modern warfare is the best selling first person game of all time for a reason. and watching fruity get so mad that hes on the verge of tears might be one of the greatest sights of all time.

what are yours?

oh the sights.

deadxstop@aol.com — Sun, 01 Nov 2009 09:21:49 GMT

alright, i suppose i can make a "proper" update now that ive been home for a couple days.
well first off, let me give you what i flew half way across the world to get for you:

- you would think that now that im home indefinitely i would just be able to chill but nooooo... i leave again on monday to go hang in minneapolis for a few days on bidness. i like hearing, "oh, no, its for business," fall out of my mouth. i sound so official. but i have sent off the first round of edits for the upcoming book so lets keep our fingers crossed that everything goes according to schedule. because if so, i may be able to have a brand new hardcover book in 150 of your paws by the celebration of our lord and savior jesus christ. who was not white.

- soooo last night i went to an S&M party (google it). i expected to see some interesting things; whipping, boobs maybe a little blood. and while all of those components were there i think it was when a dominatrix put her cigarette out on a slaves tongue then spit in his mouth did i know that i may have been in for more than i expected. i wouldnt want to scar too many of you youngin's or ruin a potential story for my next book but lets just say the evening ended right around the time i saw a guy get fisted. and this happened...

*i made two out of three, tyvm.

- i have a handful of amazing cat shirts left. i am too lazy to put them on ebay and i dont know when i will do another batch so if you want one for $15ppd, email me (deadxstop@aol.com), tell me your size and ill let you know if you were quick enough to snag one. ill give you my paypal info but make sure to get my okay before you send the loot, also, i have no more smalls in the 'unbreakable' shirt.

SOLD OUT.

- you should also know that it is officially my birthday month which will culminate on the 17th when the sun will shine, birds will sing and only 150 copies of my upcoming book will go on pre-sale.

home from that magical land of word butchery.

deadxstop@aol.com — Thu, 29 Oct 2009 12:05:42 GMT

landed in chicago tonight. on the way home i told lindsie that i had never felt so appreciated by one single room as i felt in sydney. the last speaking was so different in every way. there was a podium, i only read and i took questions between stories. i read 6 new stories i havent let more than a handful of people read. i talked about a few subjects that i havent touched upon before and i was surprised at how well they were received. afterward, my friend nat said some amazing words that made me want to run out of the room and cry then everyone in the room signed and framed some words and presented it to me in front of everyone. serious moment. shit was heavy and amazing.
i also recorded the speaking and it will be available for download with the purchase of my upcoming hardcover book in december.

i thought i felt a rant coming on but its 7am and ive been awake since 3am. the next 3 days will be ridiculous as i try to adjust to the time change.

- many things will be up for sale soon. sweatpantsssss?????

- many videos to come.

i will now leave you with a picture of me testing positive for explosives in the sydney airport:

and aggressively massaging my new man-friend:

australia, pt 2.

deadxstop@aol.com — Sun, 25 Oct 2009 23:23:40 GMT

um, so wow.

i think ive said my piece and i let my actions speak for themselves but goddamn man, you kids love the internet beefs. say what you like, tell me that im a bad writer with an ugly face and a lackluster storytelling ability. thats fine. but to say that i dont put in effort is such a bold faced fail that its not even debatable. out of all the comments, thats the only one that bummed me out.
but lets move on, shall we?

- so apologies once again to brisbane for not having much merch when i rolled in. and once again, you can blame melbourne for bring fistfuls of your monopoly money. i actually brought more merch than last time. i figured i wouldnt sell as much since i sold lots when i was here last time but noooooo. anywho, i set aside a small pile of merch for the last sydney speaking tomorrow so get there early if you want to buy something. cat shirts are still available.

- and again, the reading in sydney tomorrow will be the only reading i ever do for the upcoming december book.

- the weather here is more than perfect and people here are ridiculously nice. so much so that when i was fumbling to find my money to pay for my veggie burger they woman said, "oh, its okay, ill just make it cheaper." as in, 'oh, you dont have enough money... its cool.' im not joking when i tell you that i have been seriously contemplating moving here. i dont know where just yet but im leaning towards brisbane.

oh, look how official:

sensitive creep-cam pic:

and i will now leave you with a video of two girls SLAYING some guns n roses in melbourne.

nice face, thanks youtube.