Have I ever been in a strange place? And blogging at the same time. We are talking about strange places and I think of a cemetery. Where I’ll get genuine peace, quiet and fresh air. And in relation there’s the morgue with the same peace and quiet plus an extra bonus, a presence of freshly preserved human flesh that I could probably have a make believe interaction. Anyway that’s what bloggers needed an interaction and feedback only in this case it’s a dead end interaction.
Nah. I’ve never been there. The regular place I go is the library and one time I unconsciously went to the teens section unrealizing how teens are teens. There they were on the phone talking about their plans for the next day, things to take or who will come. Since they were talking so loud I could have written their conversation in my blog. Had I done it I could decipher what’s inside a teenagers brain.
At another time, was a “hello, hello”, much as the lady attempted to speak in her lowest voice, I did wrote her entire conversation in my blog. But of course, her one sided response only. Oh, oh, I felt my phone vibrating, I had a call. So there I went to the corner of the library and answered my phone. Everybody does that, pick up a call inside the library and don’t let the guard see you.
More strange place I could think of. The nursery section of a hospital where newborn babies are. Maybe I would be hearing varying degrees of baby cry. I’ll act like one of the judges in The Voice and listen to the next opera singer, or the next reporter who would call 911 for hunger, or the next balladeer. Crying is a healthy activity. That’s what a midwife says, an early morning one strengthens a baby’s lungs. Although a baby’s laugh has a more contagious innocence in it.
Watching Titanic, the movie reminds me of a strange situation, when the orchestra was playing music while the ship was sinking. Let’s change it into blogging while a ship is sinking. Or during an earthquake.
The strangest place where I blog. Maybe not a strange place but a situation. When someone was on her last thread of breathing. This is like taking a picture while a crime is in progress. Or at a time when a great destruction is happening and I would be blogging like Nero playing his fiddle while Rome was burning.
Strange places, weird events.
In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Blogger in a Strange Land.”