Kevin Krein

The Column of Disquiet – You Pulled Me Through Time

Maybe it’s just me, but I’d like there to be at least some meaning or story behind the thing that I am more than likely paying quite a bit of money for, that is being permanently etched into my skin. I suppose this is how people end up with tribal designs or barbed wire on their biceps, or portraits of a naked woman riding a flaming boner

Read More

The Column of Disquiet – Jazzy

I get it, but I don’t get it. When, and how, is that kind of a call made? What was it that was the breaking point—too much of a liability to continue to house? Too vicious with a staff member? Or was her health actually that compromised—was her disposition and her continually rigid body a sign of a larger problem that hadn’t been addressed?

Read More

The Column of Disquiet – My Name is My Name

I sat through a three-hour meeting at work, and this person in question—they also were in this very same meeting, sitting at the same table. Perhaps I was naïve to think that being called by my name, in front of this person, for THREE HOURS, would passively take care of this situation—but it hasn’t.

Read More

The Column of Disquiet – Skater Boy

On Monday, December 4th, I went skateboarding. After maybe 15 or 20 minutes, I had built up a small enough amount of confidence that I thought I could possibly try skating down a small, built in ramp. This was a mistake.

Read More