Yeah? Is this how it is going to be? Are you pissed this is going to be all questions now? What are you going to do about it, not read the poorly written and planned pieces of a hack? How about haha? Did you know I'm doing this because this is a good exercise, and starting with a self-referential piece is as good an idea as any other?
Would a totally negative review of something bad be the perfect use case of this format? Such as the restaurant review of Guy Fieri's Times Square location in nytimes? How dare I compare myself with the greats, the journalists and the artists? Do I even know what I'm writing about or do I plan on just slogging along for as long as I can so I can tell myself I did it? Why am I doing this? Am I worried? Afraid? Confused? Clueless? What the hell am I doing here?
Am I procrastinating something by pretending to write as life flies me by? Aren't I sad I don't have no plans for the labor day weekend? And what about after? Can this all be attributed to COVID really or do I have a collapsing social life in a city where my friends are escaping from? What are my plans for the future? And is my dream of becoming a writer, someone who people pay to read getting further away as I write more? Do I fear nothing and nobody?
Was it a good idea to have chosen such a boring technique to test myself? Is this teaching me anything at all, or is it just a practice in intellectual masturbation? Who am I writing for anyway, and why do I care? Do I think they even read, considering what a disappointment everything has been, ever, for the last one year? How do I leverage my existing situation to actually learn the craft of writing?
What happened to my plan of going to NYC and meeting friends and spending good time there? Or was it fictitious like all of my other plans? Have I no shame? Who do I think I'm fooling anyway? And what is this, some sort of therapy where I'm asking myself uncomfortable questions whose answers I won't bother answering because it's in the form of 'creative writing'? Why am I so ashamed of my writing? Why do I not take legitimate steps to improve it? Why have I not signed up yet for online writing courses that will make me a better writer technically? Am I afraid it's going to expose the fact there's nothing in me, that I'm incapable of learning and exploring and will finally have to do that in the class? Or is this all a charade, the act of self inflicting wounds, to make me feel like a troubled artistic mind? Is it possible I'm too unkind to myself at time, and should treat myself just like I treat everyone else?
Are these questions rhetoric or do they deserve real answers? Do I have any answers at all? If not, who does? How can they communicate it to me? And if I don't, how does that affect my life? Is this a bad idea? What happens if I can't stop doing this and all sentences I ever write now on are all phrased as questions? Am I worried people will judge me because it's the writing equivalent of the SoCal gal accent, where the final sound is always stressed? Who knows amirite? Am I having fun? Will I do it again? Am I surprised this is not as bad of an idea as originally imagined?
Is this piece ending already? Without going anywhere? Should it not have some closure, some kind of concluding remarks? Or at least concluding sentences for that matter? Or is it going to be like everything else, structureless and pasionless?
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