An Ode to Shutting Shit Down

I want to be disrupted

I want to be disrupted. I want to be on the Golden Gate Bridge when it’s shut down so I can call my boss and say, “I’m not gonna make it to work today.”

Then I’d get out of my car, wave my arms, and yell to the other drivers and passengers, “This is bigger than whatever it is that you’re doing today. People are dying - and not only in Palestine - in Sudan, in Congo, in Bangladesh, right here in your city too. We can do better. This is our co-shared planet. These are our lives. We don’t have to be passive witnesses to genocide and disaster. We are so much more than what commercials and TV shows make us believe we are.”

If I was in labor, stuck on the Golden Gate Bridge, I’d get out of my car and yell, “Is there a doctor, a nurse, a doula, a veterinarian? Anyone who can help me?”

Together I’d birth my child on the Golden Gate Bridge and this is the story I would tell them - “You were born on the cusp of revolution. You were held by thousands fighting for something beyond their individual and immediate needs.”

I am a

dreamer, maybe a romantic. But don’t we need that too?

I taste the revolution on the tip of my tongue - this quiet world, I hear breathing.

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