Growing up on Ko Kret island, I always knew where the river came from and where it was going.
It arrived from our neighboring province of Pathum Thani.
It continued south toward the big capital city of Bangkok.
Yet somehow, I never felt like I truly knew the river at all.
Every day it carried stories from places I had never seen, people I would never meet, and lives I could only imagine.
And I liked that.
Perhaps that’s why foreign things never frightened me.
The idea of going to foreign places, working in foreign countries, learning foreign languages, eating foreign food, and meeting foreign people has always fascinated me.
‘Cause some people venture out to see new things.
And some people want to create new memories or soak up new ideas.
But me?
I just like the feeling of not fully understanding everything and being a mess for a little while.
I prefer connection over possession. Compassion over affection. Tenderness without melodrama. Music over silence. Coffee over tea. Beer over coffee. In fact, BEER over anything.
To be completely in sync was never the point.
Maybe that’s why I like rivers.
They are never entirely where you think they are.
Sometimes calm.
Sometimes chaotic.
Sometimes arriving without warning.
Sometimes disappearing and returning as if nothing happened.
Always heading somewhere on their own.
And maybe people are like that too.
Some dream in ambition.
Some dream in security.
Some dream in simplicity.
And some dream in languages I don’t understand.
Yet somehow, we still find each other.
I have spent years learning foreign languages only to discover that even people speaking my native language remain wildly confusing.
And honestly?
Maybe understanding is overrated anyway.
Maybe the real miracle is simply continuing to care despite the errors.
Because if the river doesn’t ask the rain where it came from, perhaps we don’t need to understand each other completely in order to let each other change the shape of our days.
And that’s okay.
Ko Kret Post 
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