I was trying to explain this to a friend in email, and the only compact term I could come up with for what I’m talking about was “urban ennui.” Urban ennui is that feeling that arises when you’re caught between a city’s majesty and its dungeon. It’s the combination of pretending you’re sober enough to talk to a pretty girl on somebody’s balcony at midnight and curling into a fetal ball in your apartment because the pressure is too much a week later, and then doing it all again because escape is unthinkable and unwanted.
Seriously, there are times when David Brothers writes things and I want to shake my fist at the screen because he’s put it so well. Holy fuck, people; he’s an amazing writer.
(From here, all of which should be read.)