The main benefit of being a cynic is that you are, in fact, correct about everything.

Throughout history very few people have ever successfully introduced themselves through text. Karl Marx, for instance, was entirely misunderstood to such a hauntingly awful extent that the warped cruelties of communist regimes were attributed to his name.

I am a man who is primarily concerned with his own passage through time. I study Psychology and Sociology at University and more and more I drift into dreams and theory about the world around me. You'll be hard pressed to make sense of me (even on the rare occasions where I'm serious) but I am oh so eager to engage in some enthralling debates so please take advantage of that. On a lighter note, I enjoy cereal; wheat-a-bix to be exact. The limitless customization is a fantastic idea for those rare mornings where I must shower and dress before actually waking up.

In my free time I write articles about various subjects and discard them after a few moments unfinished and unsatisfactory. I read a lot whether it be psychology related or much more delightful fantasy fiction. (If you've ever curled up to a book while the world sails past unnoticed, you've experienced blissful isolation at its best.) I enjoy the occasional walk up the tall hill that stands invitingly in the middle of my town. I sit at the foot of the monument there and breath in the horizon, often at sunset. If I stand up I can see everything below me and I feel very calm.

I sing as I go about my day. Sometimes when I walk to and from places I carry on a song and stop whenever someone comes within hearing distance so I don't get embarrassed. No one has ever told me whether they like my singing or not but no one has ever told me to stop. So I carry on, unsure until the end whether it makes anyone smile but me. A girl once sang in her beautiful Scottish accent over at the other end of a small beach one evening out camping and it is perhaps the only thing in my past that can make me smile in quite the same way.

My mobile phone is a source of much joy and much pain. My thumbs can seem a permanent blurry fixture on the keypad as I live out a secret second life whilst carrying out my first. It is a pretense of constant popularity where I often regret that I don't have the regular group of friends I really desire. Does anyone else live on the fringe of every group? It is an interesting but lonely place.

My family mean more to me than I'd care to admit to myself. Having raised me (and bullied me into being a bit less weird in the case of my brother) they have gained my full respect. Never have I felt more love towards them than since studying the social sciences and learning just how painful life might be without them being who they were. We are all subject to the whims of the world as we grow, our parents can influence how we see that world in more ways than we know.

In my struggle to achieve a secure sense of self I have accomplished few things but attempted many. I can juggle, I can Ski, I can paintball. I can throw knives, I enjoy playing with swords and knives. I never stop singing, I rarely miss out thanking someone no matter who they are when they show me kindness. I enjoy being alone but only if I know I have someone to come back to.

So there we have it, a description of myself leaving plenty of questions to be asked but more than enough to think about for the time being.

More than anything else though, it is another failed introduction. Fingers crossed it doesn't spell an end to civilization.

(Hoh, Yeah, better say some stats. I'm a 19 year old guy from Scotland and if you have any interest in speaking to me through a more private medium, feel free to ask for my MSN address.)

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