There's a specific kind of quiet that only settles in after 2a in a New York City apartment. It's the kind where the city's hum finally softens into a low thrum, and if you listen closely enough, you can almost hear the thoughts you've been pushing aside all day finally make their entrance. For me, these thoughts have always been like insistent little whispers, nudging at the edges of my curiosity, pulling me down rabbit holes. For years, I told those whispers, "Not now. Later."
The Podcast That Refused to Stay Buried
There's a specific kind of quiet that only settles in after 2a in a New York City apartment. It's the kind where the city's hum finally softens into a low thrum, and if you listen closely enough, you can almost hear the thoughts you've been pushing aside all day finally make their entrance. For me, these thoughts have always been like insistent little whispers, nudging at the edges of my curiosity, pulling me down rabbit holes. For years, I told those whispers, "Not now. Later."