This is an interactive story containing 0 chapters. Each chapter tells part of the story and (usually) ends with multiple choices. Click on a choice and you'll be lead to the next chapter in your story. When you reach a chapter that hasn't been written yet, you will have the option to write it! Don't be shy... make an addition!

Somebody asked me,"What do you do for fun?" I had no answer. You see, solitude is a cancer. Idle hands that don't get a chance to mold and advance that next invention; that extention to life; that ticket to be free from strife. I gradually slip into my reclusive state; hate to wake; wait to partake; parcrastinate as I participate in a debate; kenetic energy in its potential state. I want to move. Yet I flower into that male sativa: No sticks, no seeds. Like a weed I cling on to the next link of the fence. I walk the beach only to turn around and notice, there is no footprints. But, I still walk. Sounds like an execution, but that green mile is an eternity to me. Sometimes I take hesitant steps, but there is that firm hand that pushes me forward to do what I rarely thought about doing; with visions that I couldn't completly see. Untill i'm forced to be the example of who I never thought I would be. To be or not to be? What do I do for fun? I had no answer.