It’s almost 10.40 pm here in Beijing and I am typing this blog entry on my hard sleeper bed on a train bound to my city. I spent my Christmas and New Year here in the big city. Except for that one night on the 31st of December, I didn’t do much celebrating. I was never a fan of the holidays anyway. I came to Beijing to work and meet a friend that was leaving China for good. I am tired, really tired but I honestly feel good, like I am high in some drug or somewhat.
The train is starting to move at a slow pace, slowly gaining momentum as the neon signs slowly become less and less intelligible. A woman in her fifties sits on my bed beside me and she is looking at the words that I am typing. As if understanding that I was actually writing about her, she stands and climbs to her bed. I can’t see the neon signs now. I think this is going to be a good year.
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