Slice of Life #5

Co-existing as Books

       No one thinks books can think. But we can. We use our collective knowledge to see or 'know' our surroundings. We exist in silence and peace, and we thrive with those two things. We rest hopefully on shelves in the thought that we can help humans (our creators) more than they have helped us. We respect old books and welcome new, always hoping to pass on knowledge and ideas to generation after generation.

       I sit as I have been for a long time now, on a honey-colored shelf in the boy's room. I am the oldest of the books on the shelf. I've been with this boy for seven years or so, which of course is very short time for a book, but I am with a young kid. I was printed in New Hampshire, unlike all of the books I have ever come into touch with (which are made in New York) and I am proud of originating from a different place.
       "The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn" are the large words on my cover, the boy has only read me once. I don't know much about this boy, because he is hardly ever in his room, besides when he sleeps, and that isn't very interesting. He loves soccer and history, judging from the books along side me, and has grown up like many 'normal' boys. Of course, there is no such thing as being normal, but if you think about it, then it is normal to be weird. Us books have a lot of time to ponder over things like this, but with such a young, small collection of books there isn't much information to look at. I know plenty about the greatest soccer players, and cool warriors from the wolds past, but I would like to go just around the corner of his door and associate myself with the huge collection of wise, old books.
       I don't even know how what I am thinking is getting transferred onto blogger for peed's sake. I live in a world where soccer dominates life-style, and history is the most important subject. I am smart enough to know that there other things outside of this little room, but I have know idea what. If only he would pick me up and tuck me under his shoulder, and go to a park and show me to the world. That would be perfect.
       We co-exist, though no one really knows we do. I'm fine being a book, would you be?
       No one thinks books can think. But we can. We use our collective knowledge to see or 'know' our surroundings. We exist in silence and peace, and we thrive with those two things. We rest hopefully on shelves in the thought that we can help humans (our creators) more than they have helped us. We respect old books and welcome new, always hoping to pass on knowledge and ideas to generation after generation.  

Slice of Life #4

Trying to Write a SOL

    The topic I got to write about, was: writing a Slice of Life, or trying to at least.

    I glance up at the words on the screen, written on a virtual page. "London Traffic" it says in big writing on my poetry blog. I'm trying to think of the perfect line to start with. I close my eyes and dive into the memory of about a month ago. I see me and my family walking down the London sidewalk and seeing the huge red buses careening down the crowded streets. "The buses in London constantly test the compatibility of the vehicles and the skill of the drivers when they turn the corners at top speed." No. I can't start it with that. I file the idea in the back of my thoughts for sometime int he body of writing that it will fit. I also need to work on the phrasing a bit more.
     I need to start this thing soon, I have other things to do. I could start it with a description of the cabs and buses. No. Maybe a A joke? No. (jeez. I'm turning into Golum). Lets just start with something. Something fast and hooking. Okay, fine.
     I settle my hands onto the smooth computer keys and type the first thing that comes to mind "The cabs and buses go far too fast through the city of London." Meh. It is okay. I look at the words again. I put my finger on the keys again and start to type. The thoughts flow out of my head and into the computer memory. I've got my groove.           

Slice of Life #3

London Traffic

       The cabs and buses go far too fast through the city of London. I don't remember it from when I went there earlier in my life, but it is nothing like I have seen before, and I'm not sure I will ever see it again in a different place. I've ridden in cabs a couple of times in my family's visit to one of the biggest cities in the world, and to be honest, I don't feel safe in them. It's as crowded with cabs and buses as New York City is, but both seemingly go twice as fast in London. It is sometimes entertaining and amusing, to be in one of the backwards-facing seats in a taxi and turn a corner, then, speed of to fifty mph just to go the length of a city block.

        The first day was quite surprising, because when my family and I got out of our apartment to go on a walk on Kensington High Street, we found that bus drivers while turning corners, constantly test both their skill and the functionality of of their vehicle as they swing around the city block hoping that a small dog doesn't run out onto the street at the last second.

         Seeing all of these tall, red, double-decker buses doing these things reminded me of one of the first scenes in the third Harry Potter. When I watched this I thought it was supposed to be a comic-magic bus that accelerated to extremely high speeds, but on this trip I found that they were probably making the scene modeled after true buses.

          At first I thought that there must loads of high-speed accidents in the city of London, but after thinking about it some more, I decided that it seemed to be a part of the culture here, and that everybody was used to the fact of impending danger as they crossed the cross-walks, but trust the other citizens to make the turn and stop turning at the exact right moment to make it a perfect blind-swinging maneuver. I do want to look up the rate of accidents in London versus those of which happen in NYC, because I get the feeling that for some odd reason they would be in the same neighborhood (pun).