In China I'm slowly learning to build an armor of fortitude, and by fortitude I mean acute paranoia that govern the way I wade through crowds to meeting new people. Between work, malatang streets, mojito stands, neighborhood bars, friends of friends, and chance encounters, it's easy to meet new and likeminded people here, but they are harder to know and harder to keep. I'm tempted to sketch out a visualization of friendships if it weren't for the fear that it would crumble like a spider web in my hand. Beijing changes people. The transplants who pocket dreams and ambitions here are whisked away by an overwhelming sense of entitlement. We're young and suddenly rich enough for ayi-s. We do things here like it's a state of limbo with no consequences, because two, five years we'll be back in New York City, L.A., or London when the glamour wears off and our hearts grow numb. What a world. Don't forget to check the mirror once in a while to make sure you're not an asshole. Don't be too cruel and don't forget who you are.
Beijing is temporary. Going away parties are constant. Seems like every month someone packs their bag with a one way ticket out. You begin wishing every one of your friends could fall in love quick so that they may prolong their cameo. After too many "I'm leaving for _______ tomorrow, next month, July" on the first meeting, you learn to not fall in love, period. You learn to hug your armor tight and wave it off with a smile. In Beijing you learn to live with an indifference to protect yourself. Just don't be an asshole. Be kind.
Remember the people you meet here. Remember their faces, remember their names, remember the moments of empathy and the time you realize that wow, this one, this one I'm gonna keep.
Here's hoping almighty God keeps them from going to Hong Kong, Vietnam, New York, L.A., London, or whatever backwash town there might be in the world. There really ain't no other place like the 'Jing. Don't mind me if I keep you forever. Most of all, don't be cruel.