I logged on tonight with the sole purpose of shutting down Biyaheng Bakawan.
Yes, you read that right. I aimed to shut down this blog. Driven by desolation and misery because of events culminating in this crappy day, I said, "Enough!" No more writing about my mangrove journey; it's too painful to write about something I like, when one feels that the noble dream of journeying through Bakawans has been shat on and spat at by ogres who have nothing to do but erode the confidence of the young. So I resolved to stop writing before those ogres turn my ideals into dregs.
Yet, on the way to this blog, I chanced upon several hits on the word "morvenna". For faithful readers of the BB Chronicles, Morvenna is part of this blog's address, and also part of my name--kind of like, Gabriel Garcia Marquez, or Jorge Luis Borges, or Ursula K. Le Guin. I've always been proud of my name, this name Morvenna, in particular, because no one in my waking universe has the same unique nominal combination as mine. Growing up and until now, my name is my Identity.
Imagine my amusement when Google the omniscient yielded at least a hundred results for Morvenna, the top 3 of which include this blog, Morvenna.com [an online portfolio of a graphic arts freelance consultant from Leeds whose name is Morven Anne (how original can you get)]--and Morvenna the Mermaid! That won it. Not only is that last site about tattoos and witchcraft, it's about a mermaid that grants wishes! And apparently, it's a real tour package offered in Cornwall, in a place called Newquay. Aha. So my mer-namesake is not some made up queer character conjured up by our LGBT friends.
Morvenna the Mermaid, according to Cornish legend, is an enchanting sea-woman and has the ability to grant wishes. Great. So not only is my name associated with a queer sea enchantress, my name connotes an underwater genie as well. Eureka. Now I know how I beguiled my husband into marrying me.
So, after being amused and adequately distracted, I decided to keep this blog. I also decided that what I went through this evening is something akin to The Beatles' Sgt Peppers phase: a decision to change the name to see if the music will still be the same, and if there will still be a following. Hmmm. In my case, I wanted to shut down this blog because I didn't want to write anything anymore about mangroves while I am in this reality at the moment. Because I am desolate at the moment, I wanted to change the mood, the theme, and yes, even the title of this blog. I wanted to start anew.
And yet, here I am, still typing away. Maybe, maybe, I will eventually shut down this blog and start a fresh one (with some flashy title like: "I, Biyahera" or "The Misadventures of Mrs Jmae Thuaud"). All I know is, I think I want to retire Biyaheng Bakawan when I am neither desolate nor jubilant. Wait for it, dear readers. We'll see where the tide washes me ashore...
(On the occasion of the end of the 2nd World War in France, and the end of my personal war with local ogres who spit on noble dreams...)
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