View from Baku

It's hard to know what to write, especially after so long. To write something funny, or silly, or informative and interesting to those who want to learn a thing or two about the caucasus (it's a bloody interesting locale). A collection of reflections and experiences. There have been many experiences in the last x weeks. I have pictures, some good ones. Of places, people, people in places. But the ones which mean the most don't necessarily fit the mould. The blogger mould. They're for me and us to share and to smile about. I can't really sift through the experiences and select those which piece together the most exciting story, or build to the significant revelations, because I'm not in the mode of travel-writing, or really writing at all, and it's tiring, especially with two fingers. I've got countless tidbits and reflections jotted in 2 notebooks, on my phone as memos, carved into the back of my noggin and, most importantly, without wanting to sound too much like a trite traveller-poet nob, written into my disposition and character.

We discussed this earlier, by a river in Azerbaijan, after eating rice and before sleeping like babies (happy, sound-asleep babies). The whole thing with writing things down as you go, keeping a journal, an analog one, what you should write in it, who it's for, whether it's worth writing anything at all, whether it serves merely as a memory jogger, event tracker, to help recall and beat mind's fallibility, or as a series of writings to develop into something grander which definitely is for other people. Is a blog for other cyclists or for family? We both found blogs useful, Rene and I. Inspirational, even. Do we pay that forward or find another way to express ourselves? Is a blog about expressing yourself? There's much to express and there are certainly those I'd like to express myself to, but I'm not sure this is the medium.

I really have felt a great deal, for people and animals. And I've learned a lot about the way I deal with things like exhaustion, lack of sleep, and about the joy of sharing happiness, how to share it with yourself, or others, how it's different and differently pure and buoyant either way. I have seen what bodies are capable of and witnessed vastly different styles of living, some by choice, some by providence. There are people suffering and others laughing, and it doesn't necessarily correlate with affluence or opportunity or owning technology or even how many instagram followers you have.
I just stick on Rylynn and make coffee. Smile at the person opposite you, they're probably a real sweetie, with a secret passion for country music or miniature cooking or something. We all have our ways.

You are a part of other people's lives, wherever you are, so there's a responsibility. But you also write your own, so enjoy good.

X