Preface

When I first started to think about how to describe how my journeys been going in detail, a visceral gloating feeling rose in my stomach. Like I shouldn't even write this because, as every one knows and keeps telling me and I keep telling my self, this is probably the most beautiful experience a young 20-something-year-old can decide to do. To buy a one way ticket to South East Asia with a backpack and myself and go. Even though no one likes a show off, I'm going to fucking show off. This trip has been too important to not document. So instead of shying away from that Story, that onion wrapped excursion where 3 friends meet 7,000 miles away from anything that feels remotely "normal" -- I'm just going to tell it. In entirety. Or loose entirety for creative right,

For the sake of writing, for sake of Story. For the sake of us.

Talking about privilege is sort of easy for me. Its been something I've understood as "normal" or at least "aimed towards" most of my life. Even in the low moments, I've had abundances. Of friendship, of food, of transportation. Of basically first world shit. I mean sure, I've lost some things along the way, like a mother and some brain cells and quite a lot of self esteem. But generally, I've had a very gifted life. There's been a harsh truth here and there but most of my hardships have ignited by my own actions while my family, support system and country have always been there to extinguish me. When I don’t have money for rent, my dad lets me live with him. When I don't have money for food, my friends can cover me-- at restaurants, with fresh food. When I don't have clean water, money for groceries, money for school-- I always have something, somewhere to fall back on. The education system, Bridge cards, a fluorinated water supply which, true as it may be, doesn't sound the safest… it is still better than what I had read about. Better than the last story on the 5 o'clock news about tainted drinking water in the third world and death tolls. With our strong teeth and shrunken pineal glands, we still have the privilege to wake up without uncontrollable discharges and stomach leeches. By standard, we have basic sanitation. And that is so basic that--

A lot of days, its easy to be blind to. Blind to all of that. The waking up to amenities and privileges that don't exist everywhere. The swipe cards for government assistance. Laws. The saftey nets that might be unraveling but still catch us when we grab like kids for their parents, America, in Michigan even--depleted of morale and jobs-- life still doesn't miss hospitable for the majority. And as I type these words, this very moment, in the middle of Laos, with bugs on my screen and a long brown hair in my bed, trying to battle off dreaded traveler sickness and heat-- I feel embarrassed. Still. Like some part of me still doesn't want to admit any of that and instead lie and claim to have always been really well cultured, humble and green. I, myself, want to scrutinize that dumb world view and unfortunately, I wore that blind fold. I put it on daily. I would take moments to peek out and appreciate or watch but having to remind myself that I'm blessed didn't always happen. Its oxymoronic in a way. A backwards proverb. There shouldn't have to be a mental note to remind or reflect. It shouldn't take effort to look at. I wanted it shoved in front of me. Pushed like a deer in front semi truck realities that might hurt-- might cripple me at the digestive system and give me E. Coli. But on a certain level, as a privileged American, I felt this was my duty. To take that first real step outside of my self and understand scope. How my microcosm is just that. How my privileges are just that. How life exists outside of comfort. Or at least mine, any way.


They say the first step to breaking a vice is by admitting you have one. Among many other things, my most shitty vice was blind perspective. It was sheltered truths from drug riddles and boredom in city that held too much of me there. 24 years. The only option left was utter abandonment. To the unknown with a backpack and some Klonipin. If not for anything else but to search and experience. To find. And mostly,

To be. To just fucking be.