Alexander J. Preziosi

Juan: Tell me, who are you?

Hartwell: Oh. Oh my god. Do you have short term amnesia as well?

Juan: No, dumbass. I’m trying to make a point. Who are you?

Hartwell: Hartwell.

Juan: Alright, well, Hartwell, what does “Hartwell” even mean?

Hartwell: It was my mother’s maiden name.

Juan: That’s what you are? Your mother’s maiden name?

Hartwell: No, that doesn’t make any sense.

Juan: Then who are you?

Hartwell: Can you stop asking me questions that don’t have easy answers?

Juan: That’s most of them. The interesting one’s at least.

Hartwell: I don’t know man. I…who am I? That’s such a terrible, no good question. Yeah, I’ve asked myself that time and time again. I was Hartwell, the bright eyed animator, aspiring one day to be a showrunner, and a father. Then I was Hartwell, the lonely, unemployed nebbish that couldn’t get out of his parents house. And then I was Hartwell the perpetually single, boring insurance adjustor who more than likely has an untreated anxiety disorder. 

Juan: That explains it.

Hartwell: Explains what?

Juan: Why I recognized Clark Kent at first, but didn’t recognize Superman. You were the larger than life Man of Steel, then the isolated Kal El, and the invisible Clark Kent that’s trying his hardest to hide himself from the world.

(Hartwell feels seen. In the worst way imaginable)

Juan: But which one are you? You’re all of them. You’re none of them. When I took that fall man…when I took that damn fall..split my head open, and who I am exploded into a cloud of dust- A cloud is the only way I can describe it- I didn’t know who I was anymore. It stressed me out, man. It was the most stressful thing I’d ever experienced, because everything else I experienced disappeared. All that were left were memories of memories. Was I my dad’s son? How can I say that if I don’t remember my father? I just kept asking myself over and over “Who am I? Who Am I?” and couldn’t come up with a damn answer. I had nothing to work with. I wasn’t my job. I couldn’t work anymore. I couldn’t do shit. I had to learn how to talk again, words weren’t doin shit. So I dug down. Deep down. So far down. And ya know what I found, Clark Kent?

Hartwell: What?

Juan: Nothing.

Hartwell: Nothing?

Juan: At my core, deep inside myself, I found nothing. Emptiness that gets shoved and beat up by the world. And we use words for fucking everything man. It’s how we as humans make sense of the world. So what was I without words to describe myself? Then I realized that what I was trying to describe, words will always fail. Because words aren’t for us. They’re for other people. I’ve come to see myself as the now. Who am I? I am this moment. I am a chance encounter with an old friend on a subway train at 12AM on a Monday.

Hartwell: That’s what you are? A chance encounter on the subway?

Juan: No, that doesn’t make any sense. 
(They both laugh)

Juan: You’re only Clark Kent right now because that’s what you need right now. Whatever you think you are only exists to keep what you value in yourself in place.

Hartwell: I understand what you’re saying, but it just doesn’t feel right. Everything I’ve wanted is just so far from my grasp. Can’t afford a home, haven’t come anywhere near getting married, let alone having kids, and my career as an artist is dead in the water.

Juan: I don’t know what to tell you, Clark Kent. You can spend your entire life trying to figure out who you are, or define who you are, but there is no destination. The destination is one day you die. Or you get a traumatic brain injury, and you have to start all over. It’s all a journey. If you stop asking yourself who or what you are, start paying attention to where you are, and stop trying so hard, you might find that what you want might not always be what you want. Change is the only constant, and if you’re open to that, you’ll find what you need.

(The train begins to slow down, and Juan stands up)

Juan: This is where I’m out Superman. Just do me a favor?

Hartwell: I’ll try

Juan: Stop wanting. Start being. It’s much easier to find peace that way.

(The train comes to a stop)

Hartwell: Before you go. Do you want to stay in touch? It’s been good seeing you.

Juan: Nah. But when you tell the story of tonight, don’t forget to mention that time an old friend confused you for Superman.