Tired realism

This morning, I'm disappointed to be living in a country that feels it needs to make itself great again. 

The things I haven't seen outnumber both the things I've seen and the things I'll never see. 

After months of urging people to read Anthony Trollope's "The Way We Live Now", some of the feedback is starting to come back to me.

It's safe to say that I'm living on the edge of a new epoch, in a neighborhood populated by old women and even older men who use canes when they walk or walk propped up by the old women they walk with.

I hear waves breaking outside my window. What I hear isn't a deam, it's a headline. The wave keeps breaking and breaking. 

Having found about as much solace in alcohol as I'm likely to find, the need for meditation overcomes me.