age: 29 (Oct 03, 1982)
MEMBER SINCE: September 2007
occupation: student
crush: Glitch, Jason Schwartzman & a bunch of other Jewish boys
body mods: big tattoo on my chest, little tiny heart tattoo on my left wrist, and my nose is pierced.
stats: I don't have a problem attracting potential mates
i lost my virginity: to a drummer in a punk band.
most humbling moment: Ohhhh I have them all the time. Thankfully, I don't take myself too seriously.
into: compassion, photography, learning, plastic glasses, pink, good music, dresses, tattoos, Buddhism, religious studies, sociology, anthropology, good music, rocking out, Roller Derby, text messages, animal rights, human rights, peace, giving people makeovers, your mom
makes me sad: cruelty to animals, war, my government, the high cost of tuition, that I must work full time while I go to school full time, children with no parents, people being killed for stupid reason, people who lack compassion, ignorance, racism, censorship, getting stinky beer spilled on me, debt, ugly tattoos, the Chinese occupation of Tibet
fantasy: to do it with a pale girl with pretty tattoos and plastic glasses and nice teeth or doing it in an office setting in cubicles and on desks, etc.
gets me hot: intelligence, good conversation, Jewish boys, pale girls, plastic glasses, good style, good photography, pretty tattoos, compassion, emo boys making out
sign: I am as Libran as they come!
You know that box of love letters from your ex that you don't want to look at, but at the same time you can't seem to part with on the off chance that no one ever happens to love you again? The box that you shove so far under your bed that you hope you will forget about it so it can never conjure up those feelings that you've been run over by a truck and have a hangover all at once? Well, that box is precisely where my will to write has been. This is partially because I can never produce anything that will be good enough for my insatiable need for perfection and partially because deep down I was afraid of what might come out if I did put pen to paper. Denial is easy when the thoughts are bumbling around in your head. Putting words on paper and making them tangible and visible with your own two eyes makes the whole denial thing much more difficult. And so, I put writing in that box and pushed it under my proverbial bed and have not visited it for so long that there are quite a few cobwebs to clear off.
The sad thing is, I never forgot about the box being there. In fact, it occupied my thoughts often and was a source of guilt. Recent years have been quite the bumpy, back-country road for me and depriving myself the ability to write it all down was tantamount to purposely depriving my body of the cathartic medicine it so desperately needed to purge the toxins that life created. But, what's done is done and now I have all those shitty memories with no beautiful pained writing that can only be produced in times of crisis to show for them.
I am actually writing this as a blog, but I must write on paper first. Although widespread use of computers has been around for half of my childhood and all of my adult life, typing on a computer screen almost seems like a cop-out to me. I suppose I am somewhat of a purist...
the pistol 
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ChrisGray