11th November: Refresh.

Refresh! No. Not the webpage you fool! My blog!

It's back up and running. Sort of. Time lag between writing and uploading is currently running at several hours, but that's a minor problem that won't be resolved any time soon. That is.. until I get my own internet connection in my room. Give me 3 years or so and I might be getting close to it. If I'm not broke by that point and unable to afford one.

It's awful. I'm surrounded by technology, of varying ages and usefulness, and none of it can give me an internet connection. I'm not even allowed to resort to crude methods and hang wires down into the modem downstairs and yank the internet upstairs. Not the whole internet, obviously. Just a connection to it. I know that if I didn't just put in that bit there then someone would jump in to 'correct' me and be a more pedantic pedant than my pedantically pedantic pedanticness will ever manage to pedantically achieve. And that is how many uses of the word 'pedant' in the same sentence?

Don't bother counting. I don't really want to know.

I cut myself today. On my shoe. Twice. The first time was an accident. The second time was just to check that it was in fact my shoe that was cutting me and not the man that appeared, slashed my finger and then said "AKABSH" and disappeared in an explosion of glitter. I was doing up my laces - and yes, I have laces.. old school but I find laces easier than velcro and I don't like slip ons. Don't ask why, or for more details. You'll only get an answer in far too much detail that you didn't really want to know - when my finger suddenly started bleeding.

I'd caught it, on all things, on the metal circle things that you thread laces through. Laceholes I think they're called, but I'm making it up on the spot so it's probably wrong. One of them has been bent upwards by something - maybe warping due to exposure to water or something had caught it, leaving a lovely sharp edge there for me to cut myself on. So I tested that this theory was right by simply doing the nice sensible thing and slicing open another finger.

I have to feel sorry for my fingers. They get papercuts, they get sliced by random things, they get abused by daily practise on the piano and twice weekly practise on the organ (sometimes even three times) They are used for everything, from eating to playing on the computer. They're probably more used than my legs. I spend an awful lot of time sitting. I don't know what I'd do without my fingers really.

Someone broke their finger today at school. Fractured it. You apparently could see the bone where it was sticking out, but I didn't see it. Thankfully. Never really liked real blood. Not as fun as CGI blood. It's harder to clean up. It doesn't just miraculously disappear when you turn round and stop looking at it for the briefest of instants. I feel even more sorry for him to be honest. He's not too bad to talk to, and if he's not at school for the rest of this week or next week then I've lost about 3 weeks art work as I entrusted it into his care.

Hopefully he's going to be alright.

Never wish ill on anyone. Apart from those that deserve it, in which case go ahead and wish evil on them. Not many people deserve it though. Just those that don't not deserve it.


What would you say if you were asked to justify your continued existence? To justify your life so far, and to prove that you have some worth on this planet and don't just deserve to be, for the lack of a better word, exterminated. Is, in fact, your life worth anything at all or have you just wasted it and not used it for anything useful? Could you, in this instant, justify your life to me? I know that, if pressed to justify my life at this moment in time, I probably wouldn't be able to.

Yeah, I could gab off about being loved and loving in return, but that's hardly justification for existance. It's just an occasionally nice benefit you get that confuses the hell out of me most of the time. Unrequitted love - or possible unrequitted, as I'm currently refusing to openly speculate on anyone's possible best relationship with me - and all that lot may sound good but what good is it in the real world?

I could probably make some sort of case based on playing the piano, but I don't really apply myself as much as I could to that, and I know it. Not good when trying to justify that your life is worth something. I could make some sort of case based on my actual value - somewhere in the region of a 100 grand I believe - that my family gets from the charming people at the Life Insurance place when I die. But that's a cold, heartless argument that just makes me seem cruel, and therefore not worth all that much as I haven't accomplished all that much.

My life, as it is at the moment, is pretty unjustifiable. I'm not making a big splash in the world. I'm not even having as much effect as a leaf landing on the surface of a still pond. I'm probably the smallest of small insects in the metaphorical pond of the world, with not much influence or power. But my life, as it is at the moment, is pretty short. It's unjustifiable because I'm still setting myself up for the chance to trip over the hurdles of adulthood.

Where do I want to be in 10 years time at 25? I'm hoping to have spent a few years out of uni, with qualifications and contacts streaming out of my ears (metaphorically) and a nice career ahead of me. In 20 years I'm hoping that I'm saving up in preperation for an early retirement to spend the remainder of my life in relative comfort and enjoyment and fulfillment. After I've retired - hopefully at the early age of 45 or 50 - I'd quite like a nice house somewhere, a little company that controls world oil or something on the side, an income that could pay off national debt without taking a dent, and a few other niceities like that. Then I get round to the serious buisness of spending some time making the world a better place.

I'm all for charities and whatnot. I just don't think that they've got quite the right idea as to how to work. Charity workers get paid a charity worker's wage. It's not that much. Enough to support a family and to mantain a house and a middle-class living standard. They probably even have a few hundred quid to donate to charity each month so that they're paying their own wages, in effect. So then, let's say that all of these charity workers are making 1000 quid/month for whatever charity they work for. It's not that much, but given the vast amount of charity workers it's probably a nice high number by the time you've finished mucking around.

But let's say that all of these charity workers, instead of working for a charity, went and worked somewhere else instead. They went and, for instance, set up a company with some of the millions that have been made. With clever management and a little success, where they were previously making 3 million a month from charity workers, they're now making 10 or 20 times that and a little bit left over to set up another company to start reeling in more profits.

Seriously, the first charity to realise that the way forward is to start up companies that have nothing to do with themselves except as money-earning fronts is the one that will suddenly get the money. A charity that bases their income on computer games would be rich. A charity that designs a new generation of cars, or builds houses at the weekend as a side project, would be rich. A charity, in fact, that does anything but collect in old clothes and then sell them on, or sit back and spend the interest on various millions in banks around the world, would do a lot better than a charity that does do those things that I listed above.

I mean... I'd rather have 100 million earnt by a large company being spent on good causes then 25 million earned by charity workers and supporters across the country. In the end, it's still money. It's still being used for a good cause. It's still stopping world poverty, hunger or helping rescue people from whatever disaster happened last week or whatever else you want. It's just a quicker, and better, way of getting money to spend on the same causes.

Do you agree? Should charities set up large companies to make money which is then spent on bettering the world? Or should charities stick to what they are doing at the moment and have the smaller profits and not try to break into a failing market in the economy of today? Comment with your opinion. Make a good comment and get a mention. I'm sure that all of 11 of you will be able to think up some good things between you.

I considered turning the actually good bits of this entire blog into a book once. Like... every single day when I look back at what I wrote the day before and groan at just how much drivel it contains and how little sense it makes. I'm sure that there's an audience for totally and utterly pointless teenage ramblings that make no sense, but I'm equally sure that there's a larger audience for slightly less pointless teen ramblings that make slightly more sense.

There is a noticeable difference between comprehensible and so-stupidly-insane-that-no-one-bothers-to-read-it. One of them gets read. The other one is the one that no one bothers to read. I'll leave it to you to try and work out which one is the one that no one bothers to read. Here's a clue - for the dumbasses amongst us - look at the very first sentence of this paragraph. And then think. As long as you don't live within 20 miles of me that is. A mini-nuclear explosion caused by the strain on your brain through actually having to think for once would probably hit me as well as your neighbourhood.

And you any idea how long brain takes to get out of the carpet?

I don't know either, to be honest. I've never leaked brain before. I'm not particulary wanting to either. I'm guessing it's a pretty fatal leak.

My only problem with actually writing something comprehensible is it means a complete change of style and mindset. I have to turn from 'ohmygodimactuallywritingsomethingthatiwanttocarryonwriting' mode to 'Okay. Let's take a deep breath and go about this logically' mode. And, as anyone that knows me should have realised within a few minutes of meeting me - unless it was at a bad time - I'm not even the slightest bit logical in how I think do or act. At least, according to everyone else.

I assure you that my actions have logic behind them, if you know what I'm doing and if you know how I'm doing it. Otherwise you won't have a clue.

Most people don't, so don't be too ashamed of yourself.

So if I have to think logically then what am I supposed to do? Sit down with a nice ordered list of topics and work my way through what order they should appear in a book? But what about all the oblique references to my life, and the blatant references to it, which - in all honesty - only make sense to people that already know the jokes and probably doesn't find them that funny anyway. Do I just cut them out? That's like... half of it gone already!

Do I write bits to go inbetween to link them up? Is this just teenage ramblings, with no purpose other than to ramble on about everything and anything that comes into my head or something more? Is it a series of essays? A series of blog entries? A mixture of the two? Something based on my blog? This writing lark has got slightly more to it than just scribbling down words on paper, although that seems to work when I'm blogging.

No one has complained yet, by any rate.

Not that anyone complaining would actually change anything mind. I'd just ignore them and continue doing what I'm doing whilst blogging.

I'll think, some more, about actually making parts of this coherent and starting a third (yes, third.. I already have two) blog named 'The Coherent Teen Ramblings' with the subtitle 'For those that need a tl;dr option' so that I get millions of hits on it for no particular reason whatsoever. It probably won't happen any time soon, until I get someone willing to help me edit it and someone who I trust enough to actually let them read the private blog which is for my eyes only. Without my private blog as some sort of reference point I'm sure that anyone trying to edit my public blog would just get lost.

Not that the private one will make it much better mind. It just clarifies a few things.

I suppose that I'd have to actually get a little more clarification in my life as well, as my life is bad enough without my chopping and changing the bits of it that are a little dodgy or that I don't particulary want to be bothered by becase they make me embarressed/uncomfortable/nervous/worried/angry/stressed/emotional/etc.

That's asking a lot, just to publish a book.

If I earnt millions from it, it might be worth it though. Maybe. Possibly. Is my honesty worth that little?

I sometimes wonder why I write a private blog. Surely the point of a blog is to be publicised? Am I expecting my private blog to be read and ripped to pieces and then me be interrogated over the more frank and open comments inside of it? The answer to that question is yes, I am expecting it. At some point. I also think that by that time it won't apply and I'll be redoing it anyway. If not competely scrapping it and just going back to public blogging. The real question is am I WANTING people to read it?

If I do, who are those people? I know it's not just anyone. The only reason that I ask myself this question is because, a few hours ago now, when I thought about shifting my personal folder onto my memory stick so that it couldn't be read unless you have the memory stick and all pertaining passwords and whatnot. I just couldn't be bothered, in all honesty. I gave up before I even began.

Are you seriously trying to tell me that that isn't my subconscious saying 'No. You're not doing that. Give up on that idea' but instead just me being a lazy bugger who can't be arsed?

I may picture myself as a lazy sod, but it doesn't mean I am one. Not by a long shot. I hope.

Meh, I can't be bothered to write any more.




And I've still not explained bus numbers.

Oh well, get real. It's past midnight. I'm going sleep.

Sweet dreams to all my readers. Unless they're not very nice people, in which case I hope that not so sweet dreams come and say hello and bore you in your sleep so that you feel sorry! Nightmare's might be a little cruel though, so I won't wish them on you.

Night Night all!