clinging to the wreckage

  I survived San Diego and the return to work, but the following weekend arrived with trepidation. I knew that Monday meant a very early start to take the train to the University of North Texas in Dallas to attend my Citizenship ceremony. I was starting a new job and knew that Wednesday brought with it a presentation that I had to give to our global legal team about artificial intelligence. Immediately after, I had to rush to apply for my passport. The day after that I was to give another presentation to an audience of around 300 people. Thursday also saw the arrival of a friend who I had not seen for a long time from New Hampshire. Therefore, it was a very exciting and active time, but it was a nerve-racking time requiring a great deal of research, organisation, patience, and determination.                     The ceremony went well and was an immensely proud moment for me. For many years, in my late teens and early twenties, I had looked to American literature, music, culture, geogra

  I type in your name to send you a note… I see that you are eight or nine months pregnant in your profile photo, and I find myself at a loss for words. There is no indication of when you were last online, of course, people tend to hide these things these days. So I don't bother to message.  I think of you often… and the night we met. The way you touched your belt buckle each time you spoke to me. When I asked why, you said it was to save your soul from being stolen by a ginger. You said it was a Spanish belief. It was wonderfully hilarious. In spite of your being Spanish, your accent sounded almost English, and I felt that you had a Scottish look. A few hours later we were kissing... kissing in the bar, kissing in the street, kissing in my hotel. We spoke about how it felt like more and like we had known each other for years. The next day I had to fly to a different part of Spain as my band was playing at a festival. Through all of the wonderful messages we were exchanging, you se

  Friday morning, 5am, I am awake. But it is not a bad thing. I am awake because I am excited. I fly to San Diego for the weekend, and yesterday I successfully passed my citizenship interview. San Diego beckons me as the place I first truly longed to be, to live, to see… and I still, to this day, would love to be self-sufficient, without the need for a physical office or company or reporting structure, to simply live and read and write whilst exploring the streets, parks, beaches, museums, and bars of the place. The world can be a better place if we can let go of old beliefs and traditions. Those traditions that put so much pressure on people. For example, everyone is raised to believe they must get married, buy a house, have children… and so people become depressed because they can’t find a partner or buy a house, or a couple can’t have children. Instead, we should be enjoying our independence, travelling, investing, enjoying life. We don’t need to buy a house… be a nomad, be free. We

With Fitzgerald’s The Last Tycoon in hand, I saunter down to the swimming pool. It has been a day of meetings and walks and talks and swims, my watch tells me I have done enough, so I want to soak in the water and read in silence. The pool is always empty at this time of day. It is empty most times of day, but the chances of seeing anyone around 6pm are little to none. I arrive at the pool and one of my elderly neighbours is swimming. A great guy who always says a few words, very few, but he always waves and smiles. We chat a little and then he returns to his apartment. I settle into a corner of the pool, allow my limbs to float and muscles to relax, gather my book and read a few lines… a tremendous noise starts to approach me. Suddenly, four young women in their twenties arrive at the pool with alcohol, bikinis and tattoos. Far from being excited, I feel trapped. It seems they see me late and are surprised. I feel like I am spoiling their party. I feel like I am lurking, even though

  I awoke thinking about her. A woman I met in Madrid who had moved from Thailand, she’d married a Spanish gentleman. She heard about the drinks that we used to have every Thursday night and she came along… immediately we connected. She was intelligent, funny, completely into the social disorder that we created, and she was also impressively talented. For example, she was a professor at university (in her spare time) to teach aspiring young professionals about business and the tech side of business that she was involved in. She was also devastatingly beautiful. I decided to send her a message before getting out of bed, but when I opened our chat I realised I had sent her one just over a year ago and she had not replied. Having realised this, I never wrote a message, I merely sent a gif of a silly creature waving. Alas, there was no reply. To add insult to injury, I launched my photos and went to ‘on this day through the years.’ Eight years ago today we had gone to Madrid’s Circulo Bell

  Walking along the natural bike paths that once were my home, stunned by the beauty as well as by the rapid change that had already occurred since I left, less than three years ago, I heard the mournful groans of geese as they flew overhead in formation. I stopped and took a short video of them elegantly floating by. Such large and powerful birds and yet so graceful and calm. Canadian geese. I see them here, too, but in smaller numbers and less frequently. A strong urge came over me to pack up and move back to Cambridge… but the cost of everything is absolutely incredible. Without having a physical need to be there, would it be worth spending all of that extra money on rent and daily life? What do we need? What do we want? What makes us happy?  

  A drive from Cambridge to Boston on a beautifully sunny Massachusetts day, we head towards Nahant beach. The beauty is astounding. New England, in its classic ocean-side glory, is at its best here. The soft smooth sand caresses one’s feet as the ocean gently rolls up to kiss the beach. A line of houses to the far left and the far right provide a scenic masterpiece, but also a sense of privacy and peace within. There is space, but the people who are there all seem to be beautiful. It is clearly my state of mind; a state of happiness that makes everything bright and brilliant and beautiful. On the beach our conversation flows and feeds our thoughts. We speak of books and films and travel. There is desire, but it is forbidden. It is a wonderful moment in time.