Village Farang and Me ...

How much of he, is me?  How much of me, is he?  Are we separate or one?  I’m not at all sure anymore, that I invented VF.  It feels all the world like I discovered him, lurking in the dark corners of my being.  So perhaps he came first and was the aboriginal being from which I evolved without my knowledge.  Through my writing I have perhaps unleashed something primordial, that was ever present, yet unknown and undiscovered.

Not that it is of any significance or import but one does, from time to time, give thought to what might be the plight of others when pondering these disparate identities.  Those who know or think they know, one or the other, or both VF and me.  What about those who knew me before, in whatever capacity or role, and now visit these pages?  Does VF influence their impression of me?  Perhaps, what they think they know of me, colors the words and meaning of what VF writes.

Then there are those rare souls who knew VF first and only met me at some later date.  What must be their predicament?  Can this be the same person?  Do they separate the two or try to consolidate the different images into one unified whole?  Perhaps in a black and white view of the world, one persona must be chosen and the other discarded like so much irrelevant garbage?

For many, it appears to be not an easy thing, to function in a world that is not black or white.  Contemplation of the complexities of life, or indeed individuals, is far too daunting a task, so they fall back on ideology and rhetoric and brook no dissent or divergent view.  By way of example, I was ever so briefly, of a mind to feel sorry for my neo-conservative relatives.  Their view of the world has been turned on its head, as they suffer the indignity of having a black man as their head of state.  Then I realized that this will just give them greater excuse to forward hateful right-wing emails, which seems to be one of the joys of their lives.

My stat counter often shows activity in towns where I have relatives and I indulge a fantasy of them being closet readers of my dissimilar world view.  Though, I have at times, lamented my lack of contact with distant family members, it is perhaps all for the best.  Any attempt to reconcile their view of me and VF would no doubt cause undue mental and emotional discomfort.

It is not always easy to differentiate ego from curiosity.  I can’t help but wonder, however, about those who visit so often, yet never leave any sign of their coming or going.  I am intrigued when, like last week, there is a sudden surge of visitors from someplace new like Norway.  The names of ISP’s, get me wondering if I am read from work, home or some coffee shop or health-club perhaps.

Though I sometimes make reference to the absence of my muse, and question the value of my writing, I am hopeful that it merely represents the normal ebb and flow of life.  Life and death, day and night, the cyclical nature of existence, no doubt applies in the online world as well.  I do not contemplate the imminent demise of this blog but I do struggle from time to time, with motivation, purpose, meaning, value and subject matter.  Such is life.