“I hate my fans, too. I hate being famous. I hate my job.” “I am lonely and living in constant uncertainty.” --Anthony Bourdain The problem with life, if you are truly going to live it, is that you must give a damn. You must get out of bed, run the comb across your head, find your way downstairs, and drink a cup. You must make the bus in seconds flat.
I'm going to be thinking about this for awhile. It's truly bizarre, but I was just wondering the other day, in the scary garden that is my mind, if we'll ever know about his issues later in life. That NYTimes article at once answered my demonic summons and mortified me at the same time. I interviewed the man 3 times. He was a hero for a myriad of reasons, but it was his pursuit of.. well everything and his honesty that I found the most mesmerizing. I, an anxiety ridden, people avoiding, stunted life having fool lived, to some degree, through his adventures. But if I had a say, I would have told him: "This isn't healthy for you. Go fuck off to Vietnam for a year or two and come back refreshed." I didn't know him like that, however. And he didn't choose his health. He chose to end it all. I know that pain. I know that place he was at. My life is an utter fucking disaster. If his life scaled the mountaintops, what hope was there for me, I thought when he left. Last year, after Roadrunner came out, I put Tony away. It felt like the right time to end my own grief over him. I miss him as much as I miss family that have passed. I miss that honesty. There's a HUGE whole in terms of his point of view being put out. Food TV, food writing, travel guides...There's no one that can fill it. The man was one in a million. The world is less without him.
I have no end to this. I know I'm rambling now. I'm keeping this to read again. If there's something after this life, I hope he's at peace.
The most telling quote in Kim’s piece was Bourdain writing “I hate my fans. I hate my job. I hate my life.” Reading this post, I can see why.
I'm going to be thinking about this for awhile. It's truly bizarre, but I was just wondering the other day, in the scary garden that is my mind, if we'll ever know about his issues later in life. That NYTimes article at once answered my demonic summons and mortified me at the same time. I interviewed the man 3 times. He was a hero for a myriad of reasons, but it was his pursuit of.. well everything and his honesty that I found the most mesmerizing. I, an anxiety ridden, people avoiding, stunted life having fool lived, to some degree, through his adventures. But if I had a say, I would have told him: "This isn't healthy for you. Go fuck off to Vietnam for a year or two and come back refreshed." I didn't know him like that, however. And he didn't choose his health. He chose to end it all. I know that pain. I know that place he was at. My life is an utter fucking disaster. If his life scaled the mountaintops, what hope was there for me, I thought when he left. Last year, after Roadrunner came out, I put Tony away. It felt like the right time to end my own grief over him. I miss him as much as I miss family that have passed. I miss that honesty. There's a HUGE whole in terms of his point of view being put out. Food TV, food writing, travel guides...There's no one that can fill it. The man was one in a million. The world is less without him.
I have no end to this. I know I'm rambling now. I'm keeping this to read again. If there's something after this life, I hope he's at peace.