passage

I feel unmoored. Things are happening all around me and I am floating uncertainly, with little to hold onto. My surroundings have changed. It seems the world is falling apart, with war and fighting and tension mounting. I find it difficult to get through the days; the last two weeks have slowed to a crawl. I struggle to work. I try to escape by sleeping. I try to find peace inside myself. Outside I feel uncomfortable with the oddness of August in New York, when the natives have left but tourists swarm around, changing the balance of things. Now Brooklyn is a big tourist destination (officially proclaimed in a recent article in that rag of rags, NEW YORK MAGAZINE) and while we in Brooklyn Heights are more used to them now there is no respite. Huge tour buses drive down our very narrow streets and make the windows rattle.

I should add that I am a little hungover this morning. Last night I went over to M's where we played her vast and amazing collection of Tibetan singing bowls and I drank most of the bottle of wine that I had brought for her, forgetting she doesn't drink. And neither do I, normally.