I'm Alone, Not Lonely

For the record, I've been loving Venice... but

I haven’t found my scene in Venice yet. It’s okay. We’re staying optimistic in 2026! I have tried, btw.

I went to a Super Bowl Party with some long-time locals. They were gracious and welcoming, and I haven’t seen any of them since.

I’ve walked Abbot Kinney on Sundays and pestered the employees of Aesop with no intention of purchase, but because hearing someone talk of the intricacies of fragrance is music to my ears.

I’ve gone to the Brig and drank half a beer. I’ve shuffled through the bar at Gran Blanco like a hopeful sardine and made eyes with beautiful women who likely spend more on their shampoo and conditioner than I do on my car insurance, only to apologize for being in the way. I was introduced to the owner of a newly renovated beach bar not once, but multiple times, by numerous friends. He has refused to acknowledge my existence and even disinvited me from going on his yacht after one of his employees convinced me to join for a sunset drift. This, a specific brand of rejection, for I realized that, however slight it may be, I possess some deep-seated belief that if I’m obnoxious enough to go on a yacht, it deserves to sink. I overcame this reservation, packed a towel, and dusted off my flip-flops, only to hear that I would make it one too many. Lord knows those machines are temperamental! No shade though. We are tacking on grace with our unrelenting optimism in 2026!

What else? Oh yes, on two occasions I’ve attended the Venice Run Club. Nicole told me that everyone is suspiciously friendly. I left each time with aching joints and nary a new acquaintance. To be fair, I was too shy to speak to anyone. If it were 2025, I might say, “No one spoke to me,” but it’s 2026, and we are tacking on accountability with our grace and unrelenting optimism.

And so I drive east to be social—to see familiar faces, friends I love so fucking much. I drive, I drive, I drive. Music on the way east, and podcasts on the way home—that way I’m spending the late-night crawl back with “my friends.” As Neil McCauley of Heat would say, “I’m alone, not lonely.”

Below are some lyrics. Some from New Year’s Eve, some from feeling alone but not lonely, and a lot from the endless hours I’ve spent on LA’s binary highways.

photos by Marissa Sylvester

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101

It is 1:33, 27 minutes till 2 hours till 4 
And in between lies 3 of us and the hour I was born 
You sang in perfect Stevie “I have always been a storm”
And at this hour I know that time only stops for love and music 
And still we try so hard not use it
Till lonely men with power manufacture siphons to abuse them 
And forever is a fairy tale brought to life in the fleeting fullness of a friendship 
Or within the first exchange of a familiar stranger’s touch 
and so I love my friends 
And so I love my friends so fucking much 

It is 10:01 and just shy of 2 full hands 
till the ball drops 
and 2 more till they tell us… 
Till they tell us all to stop
10 resolutions and 1 you’re sure to keep 
You said the future would be downhill you never said it’d be so steep 
In this light you look like Mother Mary
Wary at this hour 
loves becomes an LA freeway  
Congested and binary 
If you don’t roll down one window
I’ll die from the heat
And when it’s around the corner 
That’s when I fucking leave 
I am alone but not lonely 
follow me home, follow my light
if you don’t I’ll surely die, 
If you don’t I surely might 
It is again just another 101 night 
Always a Mercedes passing on the right
Always a Mercedes passing on the right