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Four O’Clock

“The sick and shuttered kind...”

I had, by all accounts, an idyllic childhood. I was privileged and blessed to grow up in a family where I was never worried about where my next meal was going to come from or if my parents were going to be there for me. I never felt unsafe. I was cared for and I was loved.

As I grew older, of course, things got more complicated. I started asking more questions. The flaws in our society, our economic system, our very way of life, were exposed. I became disenchanted with the way I was being told to live my own life. There became more to gain, but so much more to lose. I began to question my very identity. I started to feel unsafe in this world.  And the fear and doubt set in.

Anxiety is something I have struggled with for the better part of the last 5 years. It’s a pervasive feeling of “not being myself.”  I never thought I would struggle in this way, become so “closed off”, so overwhelmed by negative thoughts. It’s something I’m still learning how to deal with.  


I drag the morning into the afternoon
And I’m still thinking about what I said
And if I said it too soon

The little children are laughing in the street
They don’t have any expectations to meet
I can hear them calling but the sound
Is so far off

Like a diver deep down in the sea
I wanna sink until the darkness washes over me

But the sun is shining
Gonna burn up this whole town
Till there ain’t nobody left like me hanging around
But by the time I finally pull the blankets off
It’s four o’clock

Oh and if I could block out the light
Only a few hours more until the soft cold night
Maybe I’ll pack my bags, move somewhere far up north
Where the winter’s everlasting
And I won’t remember who I was before

Like a wounded bird I tussle and turn
Lying here in the silence while my insides twist and yearn
Never thought I would be the sick and shuttered kind
Digging over and over at the bottom of my mind

But I know there’s something way down
Gleaming in the wreckage like a long-forgotten crown
I wanna wear it on my head
I wanna carry it around
And I want everyone to see it shining in the light of day
And I won’t ever let any of ‘em steal it away
But by the time I finally throw the blankets off
It’s four o’clock

Photo by Sarah Kathryn Wainwright

Photo by Sarah Kathryn Wainwright

Mixing the Album (with Aaron Spiro)


“As we’ve gotten richer, we’ve used wealth to buy space: bigger homes, bigger yards, separate bedrooms, private cars, autonomous lifestyles. Each individual choice makes sense, but the overall atomizing trajectory sometimes seems to backfire.  According to the World Health Organization, people in wealthy countries suffer depression by as much as eight times the rate as people in poor countries.”    

     - David Brooks       


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