not ready


A wall of cloud fades away to another one as we bump through a puncture wound in the sky towards a lower altitude. The Boston skyline stretches out below and awaits our entry, its arms open in welcoming embrace.
            I think of the one I love, a progressive, liberal, feminist. I think of the way that she does not walk around screaming ‘fuck life’ but rather saying ‘what can I learn today and how can I use this to improve the world, build community, and benefit mankind?’ She has a wonderful worldview. She tells me that this is the way of all female scientists, but I do not think so.
            Yet, here I sit, chatting to various people around the world… a two-hour conversation with a friend in Madrid has just ended. I sip some wine and wonder why everyone is so afraid of doing nothing. The online world depicts us climbing mountains and snowboarding down them before we kayak along a river after which we run home in our shiny new shoes so that we can get ready for brunch and lunch and dinner and cocktails and parties and gatherings… there is no end to the constant buzzing. I like to cycle and explore but I like even more to be at home, reading or listening to music in solitude.
            And along comes someone new but I am not ready because I can’t stop thinking of you.

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