Welcome to my corner of the interweb...

Hello.
I'm currently a 14 year old but I don't think that's important.
I also have Asperger (or Asperger's) syndrome but I don't think that matters too much either.
Anyway the pangs of the internet have brought me here and I've decided to join a form of social media.
So I want this blog (or web log according to Mr Bruff) to be my platform. A platform to express both the pros and cons that come with life especially at what is such a moody irritating age (allegedly)

I won't declare any affiliations to anyone/thing but I'm assuming you can decipher these soon enough.
So erm... enjoy (I think)
Signed Me

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

A True gauge of Happiness

Image
This article has been written having just read this news article . - BREAK FOR READING FULL ARTICLE OR ENOUGH TO GET THE GENERAL GIST.- This article amuses me. I'm curious how this survey of 1,000 people in each country can declare Norway remarkably perky and the Central African Republic down. It's certainly not wealth although it's easy to think so. The Danes pay ridiculous taxes with the wealthy paying up to 52% on their income. Mali meanwhile offers a choice of 30% or 3%. This rather bizarre system doesn't count for happiness though as they continue struggle on the happiness list. Instead it must stem from emotional feelings of satisfaction. This is Hygge. I'm not going to tell you how to pronounce as despite much debate, this is a blog not a vlog instead. Instead you can look at the picture. The point is if we all look after ourselves with small acts of self satisfaction, we would be better in the long term. Or at least happier. On the other hand
Read more

Final year

Last semester, I occasionally thought about the students smoking in a huddle outside the library in mid October, puffing away late into the night, griping about a dissertation suffocating them into a state of self-pity. In that moment I felt detached, swept briefly away into a world I didn't understand yet seemingly expected myself to empathise with. The truth is that I did empathise, but only in the ludicrous, vague feeling of emptiness that accompanies anyone leaving the library late at night - the feeling that you have morphed into barely a husk of limp muscle, stretched excessively over a brain drained by the lateness of the hour. This is a final year. A final year is when the bedroom, once full of old family photos in a desperate attempt to project personality and emotion onto the walls, now exists barely for sleeping. Now campus is life’s centre, superseding all else. Writing this, I am once again ensconced within the horrendous grey of the main library before term has even b
Read more

Abortive reflections on Swedish happenings

Image
In the dying days of my year studying abroad, I had vowed that I would write something coherent, almost meaningful. It would attempt to reflect my experiences, drawing together the anecdotes of what became my everyday life. Yet for months I felt I couldn't, trapped between the fine details that together felt too abstract and disconnected, and the gently fading clarity I held towards the details even as they slowly pulled together. This isn't novel, merely the process of memory twisting and evolving as my brain continually tries to adapt towards the world around me.  But I also noticed my own passivity that seemed to impact my thinking, removing myself from the life I was leading. In messages and in conversation, I would increasingly draw on phrases that distanced my role as an actor in my own biopic. Life was 'accelerating away', 'happening too quickly', even drawing on lyrical references in 'happening to me whilst I was busy making other plans'. For rea
Read more