As cold as it looks (#26/365)

Cold feet… cold heart.

I’ve never really known whether I am a warm-hearted person or not. I mean, I certainly don’t wish pain upon anyone (really, no exceptions). I don’t hate anyone, either.

I care about the world, too. I recycle, and give money to charity. I pick up rubbish that other people drop. I look after broken-winged birds that have fallen out of nests.

The problem is, being called “cold-hearted” is a very subjective human thing. It’s not like a dog or cat can call you cold-hearted — only other humans can. I guess, then, judging by what some people have called me in the past, that I am cold towards humans.

I admit, I am dehumanized. Sitting in a bedroom in front of an illuminated display and tapping away at a keyboard for about 50% of the last 13 years does that to you. Really, from the age of 13, I’ve probably spent more than 10 hours a day in front of a computer.

But, put it into perspective. It’s not like I care about computers, or ‘digital people’. I’m not working with virtual, soulless avatars — I’m working with people. I’m not playing games with digital figments of my imagination — I’m gaming with people. A computer is a tool — a wondrous, life-changing tool — but nothing more.

I don’t think I’m cold-hearted. I think it’s just that my point of view is so very different to most other people. I am indifferent to your troubles and strife because I am interested in issues that I deem more important; larger, world-encompassing issues.

(It’s almost night time here, thus the insanely high ISO, and again the mega-wide aperture — I told you I don’t have enough daylight hours for this project!)

Rare display of physical activity (#25/365)
Ghost at the window (#27/365)


I am a tall, hairy, British writer who blogs about technology, photography, travel, and whatever else catches my eye.