On Traveling

I like travelling.

I like travelling when I can just stay up late talking with people whom I enjoy talking to and who enjoy talking to me too. I like travelling when I do not have to get up early the next morning just to catch a bus or a flight to some places crowded with tourists. I like travelling when I do not have to suffacated in the crowd or rot in a long queue just to see something “famous”, when I can share the moments with somebody who enjoys escaping from what traps us in our daily life and the confirmation that this very person or these very group of people enjoy this moment ridicularly the same much as I do, and when I witness how life can be both different and the same for people from different culture backgrounds.

The more I travel and meet people, the more I realize that we are much more alike than different. There is equal amount of depression in ordinary you and me, whether we are Chinese, European, or American, regardless of what architectural style our buildings are, no matter how much we pay for gas at the gas station. Life sucks for everybody. Life is great for everybody. It just depends on the day. The core of humanity is to suffer and to have some fun suffering. As Albert Camus once said, one must imagine Sisyphus happy.

Instead of drowning into the voidness and meaninglessness of life anywhere on earth, I wanna show my regrets for not travelling enough, /(It will never be enough, because the world is too big and we are too small./) since it is somewhat impossible for me to travel outside of the US again until I finish my degree. But I believe I will hit the road again someday in the future.