A Valid Question

How will I choose...

What Are You Doing Here?

What?

I said, what are you doing here?

I don't understand the question.

It's very simple.  I'm not sure I can make it simpler.  What.  Are.  You.  Doing.  Here.

Here?  Like, here on this blog?

Exactly.  What are you doing?

I'm... 

You're?

I'm?

You're...

I'm... None of your beeswax, you disembodied voice.  I started a blog.  I write stuff.  I post it.  Then, a dozen people turn up to read it (maybe two dozen, on a really good day).  Anyway - it's mine.  And what I do here is my concern, not yours.

Okay, look.  Maybe we got off on the wrong foot...

Yeah, the wrong-- wait.  You have feet?

Don't change the subject!

What subject?  You just showed up and started picking at me about... I don't know what... my *intentions* with my blog?  Is that it?

That's it.  What do you think it is that you are actually doing here?

Ah - you're thrown off by all the hobo stuff.  No worries.  I've got a page that EXPLAINS THE HOBOES...

No.  We understand the hoboes.  John Hodgman.  Back stories for his list of hobo names.  We get it.  And no, we don't even care to ask whether you plan on doing all 700 of them.  Make 'em a separate blog.  Don't make 'em a separate blog.  Do 'em all.  Stop now.  We don't give a rat's red rump.  That's neither here nor there.

Okay - that's kind of a relief, because if I'm being honest, I really don't know where I'm going with the whole hobo thing.  But, if that's not it, then just what are you asking, you who seem to have become plural?

What are you doing here?  How hard is that?

It's harder than it sounds, if you're asking existential questions of a blog and/or its blogger...

You need a minute?  We're totally okay with you taking a minute...


2,640 minutes later...

Okay.  Done.  I don't need any more minutes.

You have an answer?

Yes.

To "What are you doing here?"

Yes.

Alright, then.  Let's hear it.

You aren't going to like it.

We never said there's a wrong answer, did we?  Come on - out with it.

Okay, but don't say I didn't warn you about how very much you should be prepared to not like it...

It's fine.  GO.

I don't know, and I don't care.

What.

See?

No, no.  It's cool.  You don't know what you're doing here, and you don't care.

Correct.

You don't care what about what you're doing, or you don't care that you don't know?

Both?

We find you annoying.  Go back to your hoboes.  Wait - are you going to move the hoboes to their own blog, or what?  We noticed the new layout, here.  Kudos on your decision to stop making your readers' eyes bleed with that green-on-black text!

I find YOU annoying.  And I think that for now, the hoboes can stay here.  I may not know what I'm doing here, but I generally enjoy it, and the thought of doing whatever it is that I am doing on two separate blogs is just wholly unappealing.

Can we ask again in a month or two?

Oh, would you please?  That would be great.


An attempt at matching the not-the-same-old-writing-prompt from my buddies at STUDIO 30 PLUS with a not-the-same-old-post.  And yes, I really don't know what I'm doing, here (I might care a little bit, though).