Blogs by Lori S. Maynard
Infinite Pieces 5/28/2011 11:21:19 AM I've not written a blog in some time. In reality, I don't even know how to go about starting a blog. Do I rant about my mundane and routine day? Do I go off on a soliloquy about the fates that entwine themselves in my life? Being a blog, what value does it hold to you, the reader? What captures your attention and makes you stay affixed to your computer monitor on my every word? Is there a promise of a profound truth? Is there a hint of a secret that you can trace between my sentences of Times New Roman text?
Bland introductions behind us, this is me. This is Lori. It's 3:30 p.m. on a cloudy Saturday. May 28th to be exact. This is the 32nd May 28th that I've had the pleasure of experiencing...though I may only remember just over half of those.
Today, strangers pulled into my driveway and knocked upon my door. What did these strangers seek? They wanted to inquire about a car that I have parked well from the public roadway. It's obvious that this car isn't for sale...but yet, the public feels compelled...no, entitled to set foot upon my property and trespass while looking around and into vehicles. I hate that. I hate that people feel so much entitlement as though my property is nothing more than a public park that exists for their every whimsy.
I have a window open in my house and listening to the sounds of traffic hum along the road within its view. The sound of the traffic almost sounds like the soothing crack and hissing of a record. Ah, I miss that sound...a vinyl record rotating with a needle skipping over its notches and grooves to find sound. There was a perfection that existed within that imperfection. Now, the sound is all about the clarity...the definition...the thrumming bass that feels as though it's performing CPR on your soul.
Clear!!
And I sit here. I sit here with infinite pieces of thoughts and memories and thoughts of memories floating in my mind. I can pretend that the hissing traffic is actually the lapping waves of the ocean.
What is my point?
No point. As I had beforehand stated, I do not know whether a blog is to have a point. Does a blog even need an audience?
I am a poet who's suffered a dry streak of inspiration for nearly five long years. I need to find my voice. I need to write anything to get the words and thoughts and emotions going again. Whether that be through writing e-mails, stories or even blogs...I need to find those adjectives that lend me wings. I need to form those structures within words to build a world viewed by your minds.
I hope that the infinite pieces that rattle on in my mind can spill out and find my keyboard.
I can only hope that inspiration returns the muse that it has been holding captive.
Now, it's 3:39 p.m.
My dog turns a circle on his bed and sits himself down as though a proud statue. He's staring at me. Perhaps, he somehow senses what I am writing.
He huffs...I hear his breath from across the room and he throws himself down into a neat, curled ball upon his bed while traffic continues to hum and hiss and static and pop on the other side of the open window next to him.
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More Blogs by Lori S. Maynard An empty Monday - Monday, May 06, 2013 Infinite Pieces - Saturday, May 28, 2011 Forgotten Words of a Tired Mind - Sunday, January 14, 2007 The wind is strong - Monday, March 13, 2006 Frozen Ghosts - Sunday, February 05, 2006 In Life Again - Friday, January 20, 2006 A Cold and Empty Wind - Wednesday, January 18, 2006 Indecision - Saturday, January 14, 2006 As the Pendulum Tumbles - Monday, January 09, 2006 Another bridge slips below the waves - Friday, January 06, 2006 Love after divorce? - Tuesday, November 29, 2005 Yeah, it's Friday! - Friday, August 12, 2005 augh* - Thursday, August 11, 2005 What is Fate?? - Monday, August 08, 2005 Dirty Chrome - Monday, June 06, 2005 What to say? - Friday, April 29, 2005 Another passing - Tuesday, December 28, 2004 Solemn Week - Friday, October 22, 2004 Wreck - Wednesday, October 13, 2004 Another terrible day - Tuesday, October 12, 2004 tired mind on tired day - Saturday, September 04, 2004
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