August 2025

I've been back home for over a month now, and it's been eleven months since I left on my world tour last September 22nd. Life here has been full—I've been working on an AI-powered marketplace, spending a lot of time working out, practicing yoga, hitting the sauna, and finding good cafés. I've been pushing myself to stay on top of the rapid progress in AI and to position myself well in this ever-changing world. It's been refreshing to reignite my intellect, but as I've gotten busier in this space, I haven't dedicated as much time to introspection. When I was traveling, every day offered the freedom to wander, get lost, and spend hours simply thinking about life. Back in the fast-paced world of economic progress and constant change, you're swept along by the current—and unless you intentionally carve out space, reflection can easily slip away. That's why I've realized how important it is to choose the right environment. For me, that means not a bustling city, but also not something too remote, like the beaches of Cambodia or the jungles of Laos. I'm looking for a happy medium: a place where I can create a secluded, introspective space while still staying connected to the exciting progress of mankind. I'm optimistic about the future, and I feel as if I'm right where I'm supposed to be—working each day to move closer to my Hashem-given potential. To me, that potential is best fulfilled through both physical and intellectual growth: using a healthy body for sports and activity, while also continuously learning new skills. When I was on the road, I imagined I'd want to backpack forever. But as I sit here in a café in Dunedin, Florida, I notice that the travel bug isn't pulling me as strongly right now. I'll always be an adventurer at heart, always looking toward the next great trip, but I don't feel the urge to constantly bounce from place to place. Instead, I see now as the moment to reengineer my life from the ground up. My world tour was about collecting data—discovering how I want to live, where, with whom, and why. Now begins the real journey: implementing those insights into action, transforming theory into practice. That will be a challenge, but it's one I'm ready for. I believe I'm on the right track, and I'll keep trekking along the way.

I have been back home for two weeks now and I think I have done a pretty good job holding onto the lessons I learned from my trip, though there have been some shortcomings. On the health front, I have been eating well. It is not easy, especially when a small fruit bowl made from frozen fruit costs twenty dollars, but I have managed to stick to my standards. Temptations are everywhere with desserts, snacks, and junk food all around me, yet I have stayed disciplined. I have also completely avoided alcohol, even when my parents drink at meals, which has been a firm line for me. Workouts have been consistent as well, several days a week. The intensity could be higher, but I have mixed in some free mobility classes, sauna and cold plunge sessions, and visits to the cold plunge club in St. Pete. I would like to add more walking to my days, taking neighborhood strolls to clear my head, because driving everywhere in these cities is exhausting. Socially, I have enjoyed hanging out with friends, but it is clear our mindsets are different. That is why I have been setting boundaries, especially around going out, drinking, and the casual indulgence culture that is so common here. The pace of life here feels relentlessly fast. I do not even have a job right now, yet I still feel like I am rushing. This may be because my parents are always in a hurry or because of the constant hum of cars and city noise. It has reaffirmed my desire for a slower, walkable lifestyle, waking up without a clock dictating my pace. I want to learn how to create that slow life even in a fast environment. I have been enjoying working on my startup idea with Kyle. It has been reigniting my curiosity and intellectual drive. But I need to keep building on my learnings from the trip instead of slipping into autopilot. Two weeks back, I am already missing the journey. It is incredible how quickly the feeling of a ten month adventure, a trip of a lifetime, can fade. Something that felt so alive and fresh now feels far away. But that is who I am. I am the traveler, the adventurer, the person doing something unique and exciting. I do not want to let myself blend into the crowd or become just another boring American. I want to keep doing cool things, traveling, creating, and living fully. That means keeping my options open for remote work, maintaining my boundaries, and remembering that my life does not have to follow the patterns around me. The best part of my trip was feeling unique, adventurous, and alive. That is the energy I want to protect and carry forward.

It's been a week since I returned to Florida after 10 months of traveling the world, and it's been a mix of emotions. The first few days were incredible—rediscovering all the amazing things Florida has to offer. I saw deer right outside my home, dolphins, manatees, seagulls, and pelicans. The sheer biodiversity here is something I truly appreciate. I remember in Indonesia, a girl from the UK told me she had never even seen a deer before. That really put it into perspective—being surrounded by wildlife on a daily basis is such a unique experience. In my last few weeks in Japan, I often wondered what it would feel like to come back. I thought I might feel out of place or disconnected. But as soon as I returned, I realized the transition was surprisingly smooth. If I didn't feel out of place in the deep Himalayas, the countryside of Vietnam, or on the vast Indonesian seas, why would I feel out of place in my hometown where I spent 22 years of my life? Once I settled in, though, the cracks started to show—especially in the food. I paid $15 for a fruit bowl made from frozen fruit, not even grown locally. It's such a stark contrast to life in Asia, where fruit is fresh, local, and dirt cheap. The food supply chain here feels broken, and the quality just isn't there. Then I began noticing how many people seem… bored. Doing things they clearly don't enjoy. At first, I didn't notice many of the stereotypical "fat Americans" that Europeans always talk about, but as I got out more, I started to see them—overweight, sunburned, with random tattoos. I'm generally more compassionate these days, so it doesn't bother me in a judgmental way, but it does make me think: if I'm choosing where to settle long-term, the U.S. is becoming less and less appealing. I want to be surrounded by people and an environment that energizes, pushes, and challenges me. For now, I'm making the most of it—working on exciting projects, spending time at the beach, going out on the boat. It's a great lifestyle, and I can't complain. But I know I can't get too comfortable. My plan is to take all the lessons I've learned from the past year and put them into practice: keep working out, eat healthy, keep growing.