"oh what a tangled interweb we weave..."

Sunday, February 28, 2010

i don't think i'm the only one it happens to

I’m always amazed when I feel lonely in New York City. It’s almost funny actually. Eight million people and I feel alone?

I should clarify… it’s almost never a “nobody loves me, I’m all alone in the world” kind of alone feeling—it’s ok mom, I’m fine. It’s usually more like a “for a moment everything is still and quiet and somehow for some reason in the midst of that quiet everything is also just a little bit sad” kind of feeling. And no matter how good things are or how much progress I appear to be making or how happy I feel… it happens.

(I don’t think I’m the only one it happens to.)

I’ve determined that for me it’s (usually) an indication of fatigue. It’s a tell all sign that I’ve reached some limit, hit a wall (or a ceiling)… It’s the result of non-stop work, of project juggling… A sign that I need to rest.

Tonight rest is “Six Feet Under: Season Three,” Skinny Cow ice cream sandwiches and a six-pack of Stella.

I’m sure I’ll feel much better in the morning.


  1. You are not alone, H. I can feel the post-show malaise creeping in already. That horrible feeling when you wonder if you will ever be relevant again. After everything fades to black and the set is struck, the kind words and applause move on to someone else. I feel like on some level that feeling is why we chose this life. Because our search, our journey, will never be complete. And while the ennui of a steady, secure existence melts into you slowly over the years, ours come in bursts of waves. A wash of goodwill followed by the inevitable empty shore. But for me, that feeling, those lows, fuel who I am as an artist. And from knowing your work, the desperate longing for humanity that jumps out of your words, comes from those times when you feel most alone. Embrace it, my friend.
    And embrace skinny cow! They rock!

  2. bobby, i can't believe you used actually ennui in a sentence. yr intellect far surpasses mine...