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Slice of Refusal

I just don’t see anything in traveling. You go and look at things and then you’re done. What else are you to do? I’ve read logs and accounts of people traveling to random places and across the globe. What do they all have in common? “I saw the ____” and “The people there ____ _____ ____” I’m not interested in picking up on things that people round’ the world get the same effect from. Games are an interactive medium, giving people different experiences based on their interpretations. The people themselves are boring. They’re no different to me than any other person in the world, and there’s a lot to pick from when there’s about 6.7 billion people in the world. Their cultures and lives are of no interest to me either. I’m interested in their minds and problems.

There are two things people have plenty to tell. Their opinion, and their problems. Both of which interest me. First off, opinions can be very valuable or worthless depending on the situation, and knowing what people think of other people or think about things are powerful pieces of knowledge. Being able to predict such crucial information furthers the amount of value in that data.

Knowing people’s problems serve an alternate purpose. Problems require solutions, and someone will attempt to find one regardless of the situation. May it be a matter of something being far too complicated to handle (thus leading to the creation of GUIs for tools normally only accessed via command line) or mental problems like reoccurring nightmares.

Because of this, I often find very little value or point in traveling to other countries to simply view it’s treasures. I would rather create my own treasures, even if they are only valuable to me.

Slice of Happiness

The only things that make me happy are things I do myself. I haven’t found anyone with enough interests in common to share with. You, I don’t know what to say. I could say a lot of things. But I don’t know how I even feel about you besides the fact that I’m emotionally attached to you. In regards as to who you are to me, I really don’t know and can’t say anything without lying to you. In terms of everyone else, they’ve all got that certain little odd quirk that prevents me from sharing myself with them.

Since I’m really the only one that can make my face light up nowadays; I’m constantly searching for things that’ll make me feel like I’m worth something. I carry around this void inside of me as if I’m lacking something I can’t figure out.

At least you know what’ll make you happy. I don’t. I’ve been searching and searching for some time now, and no luck. It’s like looking for a book in a disorganized library. You know that somewhere, that something you’re looking for exists right there. But you don’t have a way to pull it out of the mess. There’s no Dewey Decimal System or directory. There’s only a list of what’s come and returned, and you’re sure that it’s here. With this in mind, you dig around for that special thing. Over time, you grow ever so increasingly desperate to find it as you slowly lose hope that it’s there. You start to look for alternatives, replacements, other ways to fill that void. But none could ever be as good as that one thing you tried to find. It’s like a toy I had when I was a little boy.

There were three shapes and three holes. You had to find the shape that fit and filled the right hole. If you tried to put a circle in the square, it wouldn’t fill up the entire square hole. There’s empty space left unfilled. The same applies here. Should I find myself unable to find that one idea that’ll make me perfectly happy, I’ll try to fill it with something else. But it’s never gonna be as good as the proper thing I need. The void will still exist. There’ll still be holes. Just like how the corners are left empty when you put a circle in a square hole. It might fit, but it won’t fill. If it doesn’t even fit inside at all, then it won’t even fill the void to any amount or degree.

What do you think I need to do?

Slice of Curiosity

Whatever will I do? It’s summer, and I haven’t a thing to do. I feel like I’m lacking something. Probably because of the same reason I always feel lacking. I wanna do something. But there’s so much I could do, but I can’t spend my time doing them all. I wanna commit to one project, but how?

There’s so much that could be done, but how am I to decide? Openness is the greatest thing in the world, yet with it comes the greatest troubles.

What am I to do now? Well I’ve got a blog, might as well use it right? I should post on that everyday, try to get some traction on subscriber count.

…Right. I can do this.

…Just think of something.

Something.

Something.

Sorry!

I’m working on a novel! I’ll post the intro on here when I’m done! Sorry!

So there’s this thing?

So there’s this thing right? It’s blue, has a round body, and smells like poo. Do you know what that is? I sure don’t. Hey, hey, you know what’s fun? Swings! We should go swinging! Swinging is loads of fun! We can go- oh, sorry, I forgot. It’s okay, we can do something else! Like what? Um…do you have any ideas? Wait, no, it’s okay- I just know there’s something we can both do! I don’t have to run to have fun.

How about a board game? Yeah, I hear ya, boring. Maybe we could…really? You’d want to do that? I didn’t really..well, we could if you want to. I mean we don’t have to..oh stop! You’re making me blush!

Are you sure? I mean…this is…okay. Jeez, I didn’t really think you were bring this out. I’ve never seen one before…but it looks cute. Don’t get me wrong, but I just think Pokemon are cute- don’t rub it in. I mean I’m not a huge fan, no way! Anyway, let’s just play already!

Hm? Where’d you get that one? Never seen it before.  Hey! Don’t hide the guide! Give me that! C’mon, you can’t hide! Alright, if I really have to chase after you for it! Heheh, you’re almost out of running space; where’re you going to go now- whoa, didn’t see that coming.

***

Alright, I went through mud and dirt for this guide. Hand it over! C’mon, quit whining, I don’t wanna hear it…huh? I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to get you hurt! I thought it was just a game..well I’ll take care of it when we get back up! Sound good? But please, I really- oh okay…

I can’t believe I’m doing this. Oh rub that smirk off your face! I’m only doing this because I feel sorry for you! Jeez! How much do you weigh? You’re like a million pounds or something- and I have to carry you! Ugh, you’re dead after this. So how’re you feeling? Good? Bad? Uh huh. Well, I guess you’ll feel better after I get that bandaged up.

Better now? Good!…wait, what? Well why? What’s wrong?…oh, y-you do? I’m sorry! Q-quit grinning! Quit it! Oh forget you! I know I’m blushing, shut up!

I’m sorry, but we’re closing. It’s time to leave. You can’t stay here any longer. If you want, we can give you a moment to checkout a quick thing. Look, I told you, it’s time. We all need our breaks and this is mine. I gotta lock up and get going.

You still here? You gotta get going. I can’t lock you in here. Wait, where are you going? This?

What are you gonna do with this? But whatever, the sooner this is over, the better. So that’ll be 99 cents. Where’re you gonna go? Home? There isn’t a single car out there. There? Why there? Why on earth would you go there?

Well have a nice day. I have to sit here all day.

A Slice of-

Writer’s block is horrible.

So get this, I’m sitting here, and it’s 3AM, and I still haven’t gotten anything done. I’m a horrible wreck; my life feels like it could only go downhill from there. But you know what? If that’s the worst I’ve felt so far, then life couldn’t be that bad for me. I mean sure, I have issues. Maybe I’ve written sadistic stories involving burning people, and maybe I’ve been referred to a doctor, but what difference does that make?

I’m a guy, like any other guy, that wants to do something. But the difference is, I want to achieve something. But I’m still sitting there, wondering what to do with my life. I’m wondering, “What am I supposed to do? What do I want to do with my life?” Not that I’m looking for a job, I just wanted something that made me stand out from everyone. Once I hit high school, I was the same as everyone else, so I needed something else, something besides my cheery personality.

But what? What could a 14-year-old do? They can barely make money. They can barely get a job. No one is going to take them seriously. At that point, I realized that the internet was perfect! What better place to do something, young or old, than the internet? You’re just a name, and you don’t have to provide your age. So I decided to go with a blog.

But hey, what can I say? Things are turning out pretty good. So here I am, typing away at my keyboard. I still play games though, which is what most of my time is spent doing. Not that I’m not writing for Slice of Paper. It’s just I feel inadequate now, to run this blog.

Am I quitting? No.

Is a real story coming soon? Yes.

Serious? Yes.

Lies? No.

Slice of (no title)

It’s been a month, hasn’t it? I’ve gone an entire month without posting, and I’m still doing well, getting an average of two constant views a day. Well, finals for the semester are over! No more papers to write and science projects to turn in! In addition to this, I have recently taken up Short Story class so I’ll just have to write stories instead of sitting around and playing games all day long. Which means this place will see an increase in postings! Isn’t that great?

I wonder what I’ll write.

One week later after the original writing of this post, I added this on…

Sorry about this, but I’ve been working on kind of a little novel of a sort. Plus, I recently got into my story writing class at school, so you should see me picking this up again sometime. If  you look at Slice of Tech, I only intend for it to be a database of my personal tips. So don’t expect regular updates.

In other news, terreh.com has been launched. It’ll kind of be my main portal between Slice of Paper and Slice of Tech., and will help me see what people click on the most. Additionally, I plan to keep my projects alive, so I’m not dead yet.

A Slice of “If”s

Alright, after some decision and growls, I decided to simply republish what little ScribeFire did auto save…over…and…over..and forgive it as it isn’t perfect. But it’s quite a shock to me. I poured an hour and more into this poem, giving it creative twists and the like that tie in with the poem, but I frankly can not be asked to do it all over again. Bad night for me. I’m sorry ScribeFire, but, it’s time for me to let you go. You’re no use to me.

If?

If I were a monkey, do I need to throw poo?
If I were a chimpanzee, do I need to yell?
If I were a human, do I need to talk?
If I were a dead man, do I need to be quiet?

And if I were a monkey, why do I need to throw poo?
And if I were a chimpanzee, why do I need to yell?
And if I were a human, why do I need to talk?
And if I were a dead man, why do I need to be quiet?

Why can’t monkeys be different?
Why are chimpanzees so similar?
Why are humans so alike?
Why are dead men so uniform?

What if monkeys could throw apples?
Why can’t chimpanzees be dissimilar?
Why are humans so like-minded?
Why are dead men so silent?

Maybe monkeys can change?
What if chimpanzees could fly?
Why can’t humans be unique?
Why are dead men so dead?

Doesn’t Mother Nature ever get
bored of the same thing
occuring over a number of years
until something finally changes for once?

A Slice of Meaning

What is life without meaning? What are words without meaning? Nothing, isn’t it? I mean, what is the point of a word when it doesn’t mean anything? What is the point of a word without purpose? Nothing! For something to be valuable, it needs meaning and purpose, but it only requires one or the other to exist. Things can exist without meaning or purpose because only one is necessary.

Pencil’s Hurt

It sucks to be a pencil. Easily replaced, we’re just an insignificant thing to everyone. I mean, it’s no problem if no one loses me, right? Not like anyone cares about some worn out old pencil. I’m just another two sticks of wood with a stick of graphite wedged in between, nothing special compared to the rest. I mean, yeah, I’m a pencil; people use pencils to write and draw things. But do I mean anything to anyone more than just a tool? No! The only reason why anyone would spend time with me is to rub my graphite hair against some rough paper while they grip my yellow sides.

I just wish someone would care about a pencil for once. Just once, is that too much to ask for? Not like a lover but something that someone would mind losing, and not just because they lost another writing utensil.

Oh great, here comes some kid. I bet he’s just gonna lose me in a few days. You know, I hate going through the sharpener. It doesn’t sharpen the pencil, the sharpener just painfully scrapes away at the sides until there’s a point. Heck, sometimes, it even breaks off the point and you get a dull pencil. I guess, in a sense, it does sharpen dull pencils, but it doesn’t make the writer any better.

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