…and get it over with. Everyone else will be stuck choking on their own fear.

Is it just me or are the clock hands moving faster these days? Did you hear me? Huh, future body bag occupier? Fuckin’ hell.

Instant coffee this morning. Reminds me of two things: camping, and China.

My first year in China, I was living at the Sports University, training full-time, and completely alone until I met someone who is still one of my best friends. Ignorant of most things “China”, my timing that first year was pretty bad. After the first semester ended, I figured it would be cool to stick around and get extra training done. My teammates were all going home or traveling and I was actually happy to stay. But what happened was that everyone left and everything closed. And I mean everyone and everything. You see, over there around the time of Chinese New Year, which is between semesters, everyone goes home to their villages and there’s a mass exodus from all the cities. So, when the term ended, people packed up and left. Every guard, every shop owner, every taxi driver, everyone. The whole complex of the Sports University was empty, and it was just me, and one small, incredibly poor family who lived at the entrance gate in little metal and plastic structure. At that time of year, the father was put in charge of watching the gate, which was pretty easy for him since he lived underneath it.

The foreign students dorm was incredible. A big cement box, with maybe 8-10 perfectly square cement boxes on each floor, 4 floors. The electricity ran from room to room via branching cord that hung precariously from the ceiling. The power would go out regularly. My room always smelled a little like coal smoke because my window never closed properly and the whole campus, like most of Beijing overall, was run on coal power. The semester break and Chinese New Year takes place during the coldest time of year, usually in early to mid-February. It’s as cold or colder in Beijing than New Hampshire, minus the snow, and the coal powered heating systems kept the sky gray, and fine layer of soot covered everything always.

So there I was, completely alone in that place, accidentally. I had a few books, a few blankets, a little water heater, stacks of instant noodles, a metal bowl and cup, and a container of Folgers instant coffee, which by comparison to just about everything else was really freakin’ expensive– you know, a real luxury. I used to drink that coffee every day, and throughout the day. I’d look forward to it when I was walking around the abandoned campus (which was all locked down). When in my room, I’d stay warm under layers of blankets, wearing most of the clothes I had (which were mostly training clothes), and sip Folgers while reading martial arts books or doing my own, very shitty writing. I have a journal from that whole period which is hilarious and depressing, though probably the rawest observations of my life.

Anyway, three straight weeks of that, 22 days to be exact. By the time it was over, I had memorized even the tiniest details of the Folgers can. The logo was a couple of mountains with a rising sun coming up from behind and between them, and if you notice that, you’ll begin to notice that there’s a whole mountain range that sort of wraps around the whole can. Little monkeys, with enough staring at your Folgers can, you can get pretty deep. It used to make me think about my months in the Himalayas, sleeping cold up high and loving it. It made me think about my time in various places around the world– Japan, South Korea, up in Maine and how beautiful that whole state is, that whole landscape– the coast with all the pine trees and mountains. New Hampshire is there, too. Most of my stories from that period involved wilderness adventures and survival tales. So, I’ve always felt thankful to Folgers for that.

That’s all.

G’day.