soliloquy meta

hands with pen at desk writing a soliloquy
hands with pen at desk writing a soliloquy
Photo by Todoran Bogdan on

I can’t do this. Everything I write is garbage. I’ve written a soliloquy every day this week, and all of them are trite, cliched trash.

First, I wrote a soliloquy about someone going off to find their fortune and leaving behind the person they love (pretty standard hack set-up), and it turned into a show tune which has been stuck in my head for three days.

Then I wrote one about a man dreaming about what his life could be like if he left his failing marriage and made a life with his lover which, despite theirs being an open marriage and no one having done anything wrong, was pretty gross.

Next was a soliloquy about the young man leaving his village to spare it from the evil which lay on the horizon—following in the footsteps of his father, and earnestly saying goodbye to all the people and places he’d miss while packing his mule and walking into the sunset. It was just as melodramatic as that sentence, but longer.

Then, someone dying of cancer. She could smell it, it was great.

Then, someone about to run out of oxygen in space (which quickly devolved into, “I forgot to blast my cache!” And “When you nut in space it push you backwards. I’m saved!”).

Ugh, this sucks. I spent the whole week working on this and didn’t write a single thing that’s readable. I can’t believe I wasted so much time writing that show tune! Now I don’t have any response to last week’s prompt and nothing to post for today on my blog…

This story is my response to the May 27th prompt, “soliloquy.”

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