What is one question you hate to be asked? Explain.

When I first heard the question, I laughed at it. But now it’s annoying, and I have many reasons as to why.

I have always created, so I considered asking where I find time to be on the sly side. Perhaps I should ask how someone allows someone else to waste their time? Maybe I should remark on how ordinary they are.

This far into existence, and we’re still looking at others, projecting and attempting to guise it as curiosity.

Someone will say, “they just want to know.”

And I say, “go figure it out yourself. That painting you keep wishing you could paint.”

Because asking me won’t render much.

I don’t so much hate the question, but what follows. The need to compare, to insinuate, and then to drag me down.

I’m sorry you’re so plain, and lack imagination. It’s really not my problem, nor am I at fault.

And you can’t say these things out loud. You have to journal them, or tell a group of strangers. If they’re insane enough to ask a baseless question…they’ll miss your uncanny timing and witty comebacks.

The next time I’m asked that, I’ll say, “where do you find time to worry about how I can manage all that I do?”