And so it begins.

Not with a bang but a whimper, which is fine by me. I've had enough excitement in the past month, summer, year, to last anyone a lifetime. So as my new life in Sunset Parks begins I welcome the little things.

The couple I'm roommating with, Matt & Rivkah, are amazingly talented cartoonists, and it's so refreshing to just talk 'shop' and be with pretty normal people. We talked on the roof after I got there, watching the sun set, met nice, friendly neighbors, got some dinner at the local diner, and just got to know each other.

Then I went off to work to take care of stuff, despite having the night off, and intended to go out and drink, dance, etc., but instead stayed at work and sat on tumblr all night. It's amazing how refreshing tumblr is, it often feels like home as I reblog and like the posts of those I follow. I've never been much for the internet, but I enjoy the community there.

I stayed at work til the wee hours of the morn, slighlty intimidated by the new 'hood at off hours (which I'm sure will seem silly in a week or so just as it did when I was in Harlem), and to get my favorite breakfast sandwich from the cart on 33rd & 8th. It's just that damn good. The train took awhile to get me back here, but once it did I watched the sun rise and breathed in the air coming off the East River.

Then I went inside, laid down, turned my phone on and read my last post. Who was that person who was in that relationship? What kind of massochist wanted to be with someone who could hurt them so? I feel bad for her, as she has no idea how far from sanity she is, but in an act of self-preservation and perhaps the first act of true self-love, I am done.

So that one last post of nostalgia, and then this one to acknowledge and move on. After all there is nothing but the glorious future lying before me. Comics, writing, Brooklyn friends, maybe somewhere I feel I belong for once.

Now, if these car alarms would stop going off I could probably get some sleep.

K

Hallelujah!

That is my Taking Care of Business merit badge.

So...

No pictures this time, no real fancy talk, just trying to get out some last thoughts.

There's something terrible about truth getting out, feelings getting hurt, secrets revealed. That's what makes writing such a frightening prospect. If you don't write the truth, hack it out, it'll be limp & useless, devoid of passion. If you do, you step on toes, insult, reveal too much. I guess that's why no blog of mine has lasted very long, or indeed why my book is so vague and mysterious. I feel the need to lie for some reason, to protect people?, but I have this undying desire to tell the truth. I love the truth, it always does set me free.

I tried to live honestly. But you never really know what's going on inside another person. There is positively no way to know that what we as individual's experience is shared by any other human being. And once upon a time I thought it was love that transcended that gap. But it doesn't. It feels like it does, and maybe that's why the love affairs that make such an impression are those that enrage us, antagonize us, because when all is revealed, we see there's nothing between us and the other person.

People are damaged. Everyone. Some more than others. I always assume I'm more so than I am. But I was happy for the last few weeks. I felt confident, like I was really figuring something out about myself. Then, after a series of texts tonight, I cried endlessly, I got pissed off and bought into her game of baiting me so I...what, pushed her away? Made the hurt go away because now I was this stupid asshole and not someone she missed? I mean, that makes sense, but I could never do that. I would live with the pain of missing her for the rest of my life if need be. I was prepared to.

I don't know who really reads this, and at this point I really don't care. This is the last entry you'll see here. I tried to make a difference and I guess I failed. I'm still glad I tried though. And that I did what I could. And it really seemed to give some people hope or a moment of inspiration from what I know. Thank you for reading and for embracing my words. It does mean a lot.

I feel like there's so much to say. I just don't know if I should take the time to put it into words here. I think I'll go to the park and make a phone call.

Someone hit the lights on the way out.

Night.

K

Comicbook Rockstar: Summer Vacation

This was from a few weeks ago but I realize it never posted. So here it is. Unedited account of my vacation.

Well, I can't come back to the Jersey Shore now, as I have no intention of paying a $350 ticket for running across the hood of a Corvette. I guess I forgot I wasn't in the East Village for a hot second. Before that I almost convinced a massive guido to take out a smaller guido in order to take his girl. He didn't need much persuading.

Last night I fistpumped on the dance floor, shot the shit with the boys over a late night BBQ, and after a long walk across the wrong bridge, I'm finally here on the beach. Ten minutes later, we're walking back to the house, which is fine by me as that's about as much beach as I can handle.

Now here it is, a day and a half later, I'm in the East Village, I've just made out with an Austrian chick, watched a bouncer beat the shit out of a douchebag in the LES, sang Tenacious D at karaoke, and saw a girl I slept with from years ago when I lived in Jersey. Now it's 6am and I'm at Veselka enjoying a deluxe meat plate. I fucking love pierogis and stuffed cabbage.

I also love this fucking neighborhood. From rats and vagabonds to joggers and cops getting breakfast, all in the span of an hour. It'll never be completely clean despite the American Idol whitewash that's swept clean through the area. That's its beauty, in the persistance of the ugly. I belong here like I've never belonged anywhere in my life ever.

I can go grab a shot and a tall-boy from the sweet tattooed bartenderess at Library on 2nd & A. Swing by karaoke at Pianos on a Monday night and say hi to the ever-lovely Shandi & Rick. This is my home like nowhere else. Weirdos and freaks, this is who I'd rather be rolling with, rather than the rich and fabulous.

Like this poor girl who was sad, sitting outside Pianos, unable to come in for some reason (level of drunk or Austrian credentials?), worried about her brother back at home suddenly in the hospital for a panic attack, and her parents off in Peru on vacation. It's hard for me to sympathize with a girl who runs a hedge fund, but she was sad, hurting. Alone in New York City.

From there we made out in the park on Houston and Christie for an hour or so before she confessed that she was a bad girl and that this would never work out. I made her promise to text me when she got home to make sure she was safe, but she never did. A fake number? Possibly, but really, all for the best. Things are complicated enough.

Now I'm on my way to Greenpoint with a beautiful Russian girl who I met last week at the free Amstel Light Fischerspooner concert. It was bold of me to say something to her, but I made myself do it. She was just too pretty, too drunkenly dancing to the music, too slyly sexy for me to ignore. And the fact that she looks like the two ex's that have hurt me the worst...well, we'll see what that means.

There's too much else to worry about right now, like where to live. The guys I was subletting from up in Harlem are moving out so I have a day or two to bounce. With no real leads and bare minimum cash til next Friday, I'm planning on living between work and sleeping in the park. Not much else for me to do. Should be interesting, I just hope it doesn't rain next week.

Fuck. The date was a bust really, though it was fun it was a friends sort of fun, really no chemistry at all. Now it's 3am and I'm back over at my old bar Botanica by Soho, depressed, fairly sober and beyond my means to handle my mood. I just now reality is crashing down on me and things are going to change again. I don't know where I'm going to live after tomorrow and suddenly it's terrifying me.

No one's around. I'm alone. The idea of staying up nights and sleeping in the park seems ridiculous, I don't know how much money I have, I'm really fucking scared of the next 24 hours. So much so that I'm reaching out to anyone I think may be around, but no one is. The manic side of my personality is crashing and I'm about to lose my shit. I don't even know if I can go home and just go to bed without incident.

I slept all day. Didn't want to face reality. But things happened. I packed, I have a plan, I found some craigslist ads that seem promising. Bushwick. Loft. It's odd but they dig comics and journalism, which is a double in for me. I hope it comes together. I hope I can bounce around for a few days until it does.

It seems as if there has been nothing but dramatic events, one right after another since...I think to January 2009 when I had first my now infamous ex and then left for Paris and Amsterdam. But even before that, for years, since I moved to NYC in 2004, and in a way my Long Island suburban twenties. Has it always been ridiculous, this life of mine?

Every memory proves that my life is an ongoing awkward calamity adventure. I'm sensitive, withdrawn, but so bored that a fiction persona is outside my drawing all this attention to me. Forcing me into situations where I feel challenged. Talk to people, handle responsibility, get your life together.

I just don't know how to get over my ex, or if I even want to. I love her. I always will. She is that chaos I need, and I somehow know her, or want to spend a lifetime trying to. I want her to feel fulfilled. Whole. I'm too much a child myself, I need to grow the fuck up, take charge, present myself to her at some future time as a better version of myself. The man who was supposed to take care of her.

She set me up on a date. With a girl I know through Reilly's comic studio, I've met once or twice. My ex knows her now and has said that she should contact me and we should go out. Well she did contact me, and after I find a place I will go out with her. And I'll be open to something with this girl, but I don't think I'll pursue it like the overeager, overly-idealistic romantic dreamer as I have in the past.

I need to be here in the moment. Not shooting my imagination into the tomorrows of years gone by, but here with people who care about me, people who are thinking about me, praying for me, concerned about me, well, I owe it to them to make sure that I'm able to live my life, and hopefully even better for all that I've made suffer, especially myself, knowing the strength to be a strong and fair man, inspiring others to such greatness.

I want to be king. But not why you think. I actually care and I think I can do some good in this world.

I wrote a blog about this week that I was on vacay...

But I've decided to keep that to myself. Sometimes writing things down tends to offend or hurt others and so I've decided to somewhat censor myself for now (although if you're really cool I'll let you read the uncensored blog).

In the meantime, here's my honest account of life as of right here, right now. I'm a mess. I have a steady job, but I'm still working a lot of things out. I have an unshakable (for the most part) optimistic, romantic idealism that carries me through this all with a shrug and a faint prayer that it'll all work itself out, which it always does.

I was depressed and miserable in my early to mid 20's. Then late twenties and 30 loomed, and so I went crazy when I moved to NYC. I can never stress how hard it was switching from a total suburban loser to city dweller that late in the game, but I took it in stride. Also, I had amazing people show me the way when I first got here.

I'm always still working this out. I never really get the rules of the game, even if other people do or do not. I'm just me, and I've apologized for that as long as I care to. Here I am. I'm living my life. I honestly try to make as many people happy as I possibly can, cheer up those who are down, and inspire those who are teetering on the edge. Just as you've all done for me.

I love you. Seriously. I can not stress how much I feel towards all of you. You've done so much for me that I can't properly express it. Words are too weak, emotions too strong, so I hope you realize how much I want to let you know, I appreciate it. If you've helped me overcome the last year, I can't tell you how much it means and how much it was needed.

But here I am. I'm good. A total mess for sure, but I've come out the other side and survived. I laugh in the face of personal crisis, I look over the dance-floor and survey the scene, I slide into any social situation and charm away. All things I never thought myself capable of at one point or another. But here I am, doing it, living it.

My life was never easy. I was always an atypical male, someone too sensitive for urban living, yet eager to throw himself into the mix. I want a life of adventure, and looking back, I see I've lived nothing but. Every day of this vacation, my first in years, has been spent doing something totally random. This is how I always wanted to spend my life.

Who knows what will happen tomorrow, where I'll be, where I'll be living, but I know it'll work out. The people in my life have taught me that. Roll with the punches as Young MC would say. I am me. I don't know any other way to be. I apologize if something I've written here has hurt anyone. That was never my intention. I am a writer, and I must write.

So from here on out you will read an honest account of my life. And this is fair warning, if you do not want to be mentioned then you must either let me know or decide to not be a part of my life. I accept either decision as I understand how things could be weird, but this is who I am. I'm a writer. And a lot of my neuroses came from not being honest in my writing.

I don't know how many people read this blog, if any, but I promise you nothing but the truth from here on out. I owe it to myself first and foremost, but also to you as fellow human beings. Nothing destroys the creative spirit quite as much as falsehood.

My name is Kurt Christenson. If you've read this, then I love you. If you haven't, then you just haven't gotten to know me yet. And I love you anyways.

K

Please help kitty (& me)

Okay, so this is ridiculous but I need any help I can get and now it's not just for me but this kitten that I just found. I have named him Jack.

He is insane and doesn't want to sit still for a picture, but he is very cute and we've already fallen in love with each other. But I have a problem. This is literally the last night at my sublet, which I thought I would have another week at until the other people began moving out. I suddenly have to find a place to stay until I get paid next Friday on the cheap.

And now I have a kitty. I don't know what to do but I love this little guy already and I think I called him to me as I've been pining for my kitty Boosh who is with my ex.

I've been missing her like crazy as I've never really had my own cat. It's usually with a girlfriend. And now this guy has jumped up on my window in Harlem and bellowed inside until I had to take off my headphones, run out there and grab him. What could I do? I can't think that this cat went out and was killed because I did nothing.

So here I am, soon to not have an apartment and now with a little guy. If anyone can help me out, find a place to crash with him for a few days or if anyone can hold on to him for a few days/weeks til I find another place i'd really appreciate it. Please pass this around or let me know if you know anyone who'd have a place to stay for a bit. I have some money to pay for at least a week.

Thank you for any help you can provide.

Now I gotta get this guy to chill out and lay down.

K

ArghBrain@gmail.com

Kurt Christenson's Precious Little Life

Sitting on line outside the East Village movie theatre, waiting for a sneak preview of Scott Pilgrim, which I'm waiting on Emily and her friends who are helping her move to Astoria before meeting me here. So we'll see if they make it, if I get in and see it.

Things are always up in the air, on a day when my debit card has been canceled due to a $1700 purchase in Italy and then I find my other bank account is overdrawn by $1000 because my ex never deposited the money for our last month of rent in our old apartment. My cousin who I was hoping to get an apartment with is ready to give up and get one by himself. And I still need to pay $200 for the next week in my Harlem sublet.

After next Fri I'll be homeless, hopefully going down to the Jersey Shore for Reilly's birthday, then maybe going up to Massachusetts to visit Boston Scott for a few days, then I have no idea where I'll live. I can barely afford a place and save money for a new more permanent place. I am going to have to rely on friends and travel far to get to work.

But at least I'm starting coloring work on the comic with Reilly. It's amazing to be working on it, seeing it come to life, knowing that my work is going into it like this. Then he'll really make the coloring pop and I'll letter it, then we prep it for comixology to be read on iPods and such. It's pretty insanely exciting to be readying my own comic as I sit here about to see a multimedia comic experience like Scott Pilgrim.

One artist, six volumes of a comic, now a major motion picture, awesome old school video game, big name bands on a soundtrack. There's posters all over the city of a character that was once just a sketch in a notebook, now it's a giant poster in Times Square with a whole cast of actors portraying it on the big screen. That's why I exist. To bring my vision to that kind of fruition.

Even if it's just a comic, that's amazing, but the comic I'm working on with Reilly could easily be a video game, and even more so a cartoon or movie. To think that between us both we have the capability and connections to make that happen is astounding. It makes me feel like all these hardships and the hard work is all worth it. We're creating something. Something awesome and fun.

One day people will know Mac Washington, who has taken on a life of his own in my script, who has developed a personality through Reilly's drawings. He's a goofball, a slacker loser with heart. A simple guy with good intentions. And his supporting cast is just as awesome. I really can't wait for you guys to meet them.

Now to survive in the big city long enough to bring it fully to life. Wish me luck.