Backwaters of Blogging and Journaling
Sometimes I look at the words trailing by as I write. I think where do these words go? What is the difference between the blog and my journal ? It seems to me that the two have combined lately. I write more about feelings and expressions and emotions here and the journal often contains yet more of the same. I’ve always thought that the blog was my method and technique for bringing my little thoughts out. Let them suffer the catharsis like I do birthing them.
For some years, I did all this alone. I wrote a blog. Some blog. Somewhere. Perhaps it was always called “Mikes Thoughts” since I had thoughts to write down. Was that the Advogato days? Or maybe after when I blogged elsewhere? It always seemed though to cross and blur the boundary even though I did write a thing or two about Linux at one time. Most of the time it was an awkward at times exploration of what it meant to be Mike and what the accompanying thoughts were like.
Then some years ago I left. I think that moment boarding the flight to Tokyo Japan, the whole thing turned a corner for me. I was, after all, embarking not only a plane but on a grand adventure (at least to me). No Piglet or Tigger to accompany me or wise Owl to mention the right way to go. I never did need that wise one because I always felt that whatever path I would take was the one I was on. I never wanted the concrete thing since I did those in IT for years. I wanted the random and to find my way even if it was the wrong way.
I met people. Blogged them sometimes. Journaled them often. Places came and went almost like shadows crossing over the days as the sun wanders in its own path. I could see some shadow of Saigon and then a dark lit alley in Hanoi. Places like Taipei or Vientiane. Words spilled out to both things. The blog and journal blended sometimes and I remember thinking what goes where and why?
Then this pandemic thing happened you know. I got caught in Vietnam for a few years. So instead of going back to the United States I just stayed as long as I could. Failed at starting a LLC in digital tourism. Succeeded at leaving and wandering on Amtrak in 2021 after the year before doing even more of it. I left for Mexico and wandered and walked and wrote and lost and found many words. They all crossed over and became something else for me.
So as it turns out, this backwater of writing soon became Cambodia in 2023. Why? I dunno. I think perhaps I wrote in the journal I would stay this time for the year and maybe longer in Siem Reap. I wanted a home. A place like what Hanoi offered but even more. This became the vogue in the blog and the journal wondered what would come next.
One night in a bar in Siem Reap I found out. I met this woman. There was something different and the blog was the recipient of the feelings and the journal the emotions. Things happened at the speed of life. Perhaps faster. I found myself falling in love with this Khmer woman and then she told me on a day,
I knew you were the one for me that first night
I felt like the entire circle of blog and journal had come around. Life did a soulful dance. I found myself going to meet her mum. In a far off province in rural Cambodia. I wanted her to simply say “yes” to us.
Of course I got more than that. And I also found Alin started wandering into so many places in my writing. Because Mikes Thoughts is about Mike living, dreaming, wandering.
Somewhere after she became my wife and we came through all the times. Some were hard. Some unhappy. Some things remained. Some departed. I brought the blog back but the journal is a casualty. I tried and the force of it is lost on me. Now I just write here.
The blog reborn? No. Just words that come along, dance to their beats. The backwaters become only one. The blog lives. The journal has gone even though I tried again after deleting it a few days ago. Truth is the journal became something less and I felt it did not belong. Of course, I almost felt that way about the blog too but something about its cathartic measure made me want it back.
And that’s how I got these words down tonight before dinner. More said and meant and dreamt for sure. But here’s the blog and the journal is missing. Most likely to never resurface in its own backwater.
Live well. Be happy and joyous.