Dwindling Time

Time is dribbling away like tap water after you turn off the pipes, and a little bit streams out defiantly anyway. It is possible that I ponder the passage of time too much.

Walking to the metro in the sweltering heat, I had a running montage of DC playing in my mind. My first days here--the sheer disorientation and loneliness of being in a new city all by myself, my quest in those days to carve out my niche, my place in this world. I feel more acutely than ever, that I am ripping out the roots growing beneath my feet, moving it across oceans and continents to re-plant, renew. Exhilarating and saddening all balled up in one.

I was walking through Chinatown this afternoon, and as usual it was the craziest part of the city. The large, flashing news-screens defeaning DC citizens with its daily updates outside the MCI center. Gold and The Dollar have both sunk, a woman's husky voice purred into the steamy, stifling afternoon.

The Falun Gong seemed to be back, and there was a wonderful street marching band of some kind playing. I hopped, skipped and tapped my feet and lingered longer to listen to the rhythmic, angry pounding. I will miss this. Discovering musicians in the metro who force you to turn off your i-pod or risk bursting your ear drums.