I am still processing the news I heard last night. Anthony Bourdain died by suicide.
Suicide. I can’t still accept the reality. This is Anthony. The bad ass chef I’ve been crushing since college. The person who we think has the best job in the world. The guy who we see as very strong and brave and doesn’t seem to battle sadness or depression.
Anthony, the no bs traveler who will tell in your face that something is wrong. He is the voice of the underdogs. The guy who opened my eyes in the world of traveling. That you shouldn’t be too scared to search and experience the unknown.
Anthony , the guy who lets me learn things like:
Be open minded with other people’s food and culture. Study history. Have an opinion with the current political climate. Ask questions. Ask questions even if it’s forbidden. Curse. Say Fuck you when you needed to. Fight for what you think is right. Be the voice of reason. Eat. Experience food emotionally like a child. Taste food and make it as a earth shattering experience. Meet people. Make an impact.
Anthony, you have your reasons and I will respect it even though I will never understand it. If you can just see people’s reaction about your passing. You touched our lives. Maybe, your job is done. You got tired. You deserve a rest.
Anthony, I can imagine that you are raising your middle finger while entering the other side. This time, I think for you, there’s no parts unknown anymore.
