i lie in bed in the mornings, savoring the silence and mind-stillness of the day. i try to cling to that peace which was so present in india and is less than fleeting here. there is no stillness from the first-floor walkup on Broadway.

waves of sleep hit and lift-- aligning, yes, with the rise and fall of the sun, but their weight is oppressive. i cannot fight the urge to sleep at 7pm and i wake up sore from the corpselike rest of a long night: unmoving and resftul. i avoid the clusterfucking of the mind: radio, internet, i-pod.

one returns to taxes, car registrations past due, and moldy vegetables.