On a plane 9 hours from Chicago: I still smell like Hong Kong… speed and street smells, raw ambition and sweat.
The past five months were a blurry, pork-induced nightmare (I swear, I’ve eaten at least an entire pig farm from all the pork I’ve had in China).
It was hard in China. I hated it, but I’m glad I was there. I don’t know if I’ll ever go back, but it was what I needed. To see it… to experience what it is now, what it is becoming. To fear it and hate it, to try and love it, to want to understand it. To fail utterly and be able to tell the tale.
And now I’m going back, with some valuable and much needed perspective and a fire to build a beautiful life. Have at you, sinners. Be well.