His life had been mapped out from the minute he’d been born. His parents had never listened when he’d expressed his preferences; they’d claimed to know what he needed in order to be successful. But he didn’t have to listen to them any more – his life was his own, and no one else’s.
The internet connection in the village is being temperamental again at the moment, so I’m not sure how many blogs I’ll be able to visit or comments I’ll be able to respond to over the next few days. There have been BT engineers out checking over things pretty much constantly since Thursday, but things don’t seem to have improved yet. Any connection we get seems to gone again a minute later. It’s very frustrating. I’ve scheduled this post while on my lunch break at work. It’s a little hurried, so I hope it’s okay.
Creating a Meaningful Life
Exploring our connection to the wider world
Wrangling literary arts for writers: words for people!
watching the world of brain research