I’m supposed to be the sad clown. Laughing on the outside, crying on the inside. I run North Jersey, I put food on the table, and I make sure everyone gets their taste. But at night, when the house is quiet and the Prozac is sitting on the nightstand like a little white flag of surrender, I wonder what it's all for.
The world is moving too fast. People don't value the things they used to. But I'm still here. Heavy. Standing by a pool that's suddenly way too big, waiting for a couple of birds to tell me everything is going to be okay. "The Sopranos" Pilot (TV Episode 1999) - Plot - IMDb [S1E1] Tony
The morning smells like wet mulch and charcoal lighter fluid. I’m standing by the pool, watching the water, waiting for those ducks to come back. Carm says I’m obsessing. Maybe I am. But they were there, and then they weren't. Just like that. I’m supposed to be the sad clown
I told the doctor it feels like I came in at the end. The best is over. My old man, his crew—they had it figured out. They had rules. They had a structure that didn't just crumble when the feds started breathing down their necks. Now? It’s all wires, RICO statutes, and guys who can't keep their mouths shut for five minutes because they're scared of a little prison time. But at night, when the house is quiet
Here is a short, evocative piece written in the voice of a contemplative, Season 1 Tony Soprano reflecting on that heavy realization. 🍂 The Heavy Air