What can you say when somebody as well written and traveled as Anthony Bourdain passes on?
It was a shock.
I came home from a long introspective drive from New Hampshire, and sat in the car.
I was listening to music and thinking about all the bullshit in life.
I hatched a plan to get away from it all.
I pulled up a ticket to head to Bali, Indonesia and planned to leave as soon as tomorrow.
My life has been a constant circle of running toward or away from something.
I’m not sure why Anthony killed himself, but I pass no judgment.
You have all this built up sadness invested in the situation but it’s hard to express it.
I feel that sentiment, but at the same time, writing has always been an outlet to me.
When I feel something, I like to write about it.
What do you say about somebody that lived their life, met all these people, wrote these stories?
People jump in to judge suicide as selfish.
What if some of these people have been dealing with and surviving all this shit for years?
Mental health is a fucking crazy topic.
We dance around it all day with euphemisms.
Honestly I don’t know why Anthony Bourdain killed himself, I really don’t.
So what the fuck do I write.
Some guy that could transcend language and culture with food and words is dead.
Hell, the last meal I made around lunch time was 2 hotdogs.
Anthony Bourdain broke down barriers.
We take that kind of knack for granted sometimes.
His words made you hungry for food, travel and culture.
One meal, one episode, wasn’t enough.
You simply craved more.
One more meal, one more adventure, one more wild episode!
To the man that truly lived!
To the man that traveled as hard as I someday hope to achieve!
To the man who’s words and actions, transcended national and cultural boundaries!
To you Anthony Bourdain, I salute you.
May you sincerely rest in peace!
