After all I went through with this house, and despite all the new parts to it, much is the same – the architecture, the possessions, the view.

The great room isn’t quite the same – half the books are gone from the shelves. The wall hangings are still in a box. The stained glass lamp that used to be over the dining table is sitting on the shelf, half-crushed. I’m on the futon that’s supposed to be in my office, because my recliner couch is gone. But these are small changes.

Somehow it isn’t different enough.

I’m on the couch in my own living room. I look around the room at familiar objects. I watch a movie and all the remote controls work the same.

I don’t want normal back. I want change.

It is I who haven’t changed.

I’m still overrun with ideas that I cannot act uponĀ even if I live to be 100. I’m still unable to speak my anger and fear. I’m still worried about my future, and the future of the country.

Today’s penny is a 1999.