On reflection.

Several dead and over one hundred people injured in a series of explosions at the Boston Marathon.

I have spent the past few hours pouring over amateur footage of the tragic events. Video phones portraying an elated carnival atmosphere torn to pieces by deadly blasts, runners sprinting for their lives, emergency teams risking everything by darting headfirst into the ensuing chaos. Graphic images showing the true extent of terrorism. Early reports suggest that an eight-year-old child is amongst the dead; an innocent youngster without even a thought or opinion on the fabricated religious farce that drives this kind of act.

Terrorism saddens me. It breaks my heart to the point that I can no longer stand it. My mind becomes confused, tangled beyond comprehension and I cry. I cry for humans - both victims and perpetrators as, in their own ways, both are lost within the twisted world in which we live.

It belittles me and consumes me with guilt. How dare I sit and quibble over the fact that my day has not gone quite to plan; that the minutiae of my daily routine didn't quite tesselate to my complete satisfaction. My day in which no-one was hurt, no-one was maliciously targeted and, above all, no-one died.

Perspective is a personal concept and these old minds of ours find it a hard concept to conquer. Trust me, I refuse to give up. Though I may not claim to be the next Sigmund Freud (heaven help us if I am) but I do firmly believe that healthy perspective is the key to inner peace and finding it is one of the greatest ambitions any human can have.

An absolution that we can only pray this world some day finds.

Inside death row.

Adam has been out painting the town red this evening so I've been able to partake in one of my most cherished pastimes - watching the most ridiculous real life documentaries. Everyone at work has been banging on about the new two-part Trevor McDonald feature in which he travels to Indiana's maximum security state prison to speak with prisoners currently on death row so I decided to give that one a whirl.

What resulted is one of the most sombre two hours that I think I have ever experienced. Never before has a television programme affected so much that I struggle to shake the words and image from my head hours after it has ended. The nature of such an environment; completely void of what we deem to be 'normal' life, the direct way in which real people speak of such unspeakable crimes committed by their own hands, the idea of legally putting someone to death - a concept so far detached and so alien to anything I have ever known. Just wow.

I guess if anyone had ever asked me prior to watching the documentary whether I believe in the death penalty, I suppose my answer would have been a resounding 'no' but now, after that - I'm not even sure what I think. Seeing such remorse and pain and anguish in some of those murderer's eyes, I can't help but focus on the tragedy of their lives and resulting actions. They are still human beings after all, yet their treatment and presentation could be compared to battery farmed chickens, herded around and referred to merely as numbers. Despite their horrendous actions and sentiments of pure evil, it is unnerving just how unsettling their dehumanisation is. I should be angry and hate those people, I should want them to die, but all I could think of was the tragedy; the discomfort at how low a grade of human being they are in the population's eyes, stripped of everything that once made them individuals.

It feels wrong even typing it. They're evil and that should be that.

I don't think I will ever fully get my head around the idea of a governing body being able to legally take a man's life. It seems so alien, so wrong to someone that was born in raised in Europe where even the strictest of laws and decrees seem child's play to elsewhere in the world. Yes these prisoners have taken lives themselves but is it then right to take theirs in return? Is it right that humans as a collective should be able to choose when it is okay to take another life? On the other hand is it a mere case of punishment fitting the crime? Does the planet have the resource to keep every high risk prisoner locked up for life and is this a valid enough reason to enforce the death penalty?

As with the meaning of life, wouldn't it be perfect if we could just all sit down, discuss the issue and reach a logical conclusion? But we won't. 'Cause we're humans and humans have feelings, lots of feelings with oh so many opinions and views. And after dwelling for hours, I'll take my feelings and send them to bed, still not having made sense of them at all.

I blame you, Trevor McDonald.

Don't worry, be happy.

The snow has been falling thick and fast for the past few days. Lincolnshire received the worst of it last night and even I, the boy who endured many a winter in the frozen tundras of Sweden, found it a struggle driving to work this morning. It does still amuse me how this country grinds to a halt at the slightest sign of the white stuff but I guess you'd never truly understand unless you came to live here; despite having snow almost every single year, there are still no real provisions in place should the inevitable happen. Road gritting is confined to only the busiest of roads, path gritting is non-existant. Buildings and pipework are not built to cope with extremities of any kind and more often than not, many schools are forced to close. It's a shambles and to the rest of our frozen northern European neighbours we're a laughing stock - but I don't think I'd have it any other way. It's part of Britain's bumbling charm.

Skye, of course, is loving the snow. I guess you could say she is in her element and I've been tempted several times over the past few days to purchase a sledge in order to see what she is made of. If it wasn't for work then I really think I would. Damn work. It's pointless even being there with all the schools closed - I guess this is how lifeguards feel in winter.

Lately I've been attempting to work on just how much I worry about the tiniest, most pointless of things. If you asked people that know me just what kind of person I am, anxious would definitely not be on their list of traits - to them, I'm probably one of the most laid-back, easygoing people they know. To be honest, pointless is probably the wrong word - it isn't pointless things I worry about, it's more when someone does something to spite me. It's strange really, it may even be something innocent where the other party has no idea of the impact of their actions but I have this overwhelming urge to get some small piece of revenge. I sound like a complete psycho but it isn't as bad as I'm making it sound.

A good example would be the lady from the end of the street that insists on parking in the one available space outside our house ...... four doors down. She probably has no idea it's an issue and probably does not realise that it then prevents us from parking across our drive like the other neighbours can but it angers me to the point that I just cannot stop thinking about it. The best way to describe it is a strange underlying sense of foreboding, as if you have a constant worry about something that you need to do, no matter how much you try and forget it.

I've been trying to put those 'little' worries into perspective and recognise the logic behind them. It's helping a great deal and I haven't experienced that underlying feeling much at all lately. Don't get me wrong, it's easier said than done but by learning to chill out and understand the sheer insignificance of our constant worries, it really does help us to become more tolerable, decent people. As with most things, I guess it comes best with age - time builds and heals in multiple ways.

I suppose now I am starting to understand just how my Grandparents and the other elders in my life managed to achieve such a heightened sense of calm and tranquility - they've recognised that worrying is simply just not worth it.

I'd just prefer to achieve it sooner rather than later.

Taking stock.

Life is good these days.

Of course, I still manage the occasional grumble; either certain things fail to go my way or I find myself frustrated at the fact I'm not managing to tick off life's checklist fast enough. I'd say that I need to pull myself together but considering that 99% of the human population experiences these same frustrations, I think I'm doing just fine.

Speaking of life's 'checklist', I've been forcing myself to stop and take note of just how lucky I am to be in the position that I'm in lately. These days, with the ever increasing whirlwind that is modern-day living, we tend to find ourselves dwelling on what we don't have rather than recognising the importance of everything we take for granted. Despite the current economic downturn, I have been lucky enough to attend university and graduate from a course I loved. On top of this, I have managed to secure a graduate position with a fantastic company before leaving and have now held this down for almost two years. Not only that but, thanks to several amazing opportunities, I have experienced not one but two promotions during those two years.

Now I'm not a religious person (and by no means take this as a sign that I'm about to take up the cross) but if I was, I would most certainly say that someone has definitely been looking down on little ol' me. My fateful side would like to think that it's my dear mother's guiding hand, taken too soon but always with me. In fact, I much prefer that explanation so let's stick with it.

I have my own car, enough income to live comfortably without scrimping and I am blessed enough to share my first little home with a partner who loves me. My relationship with my father couldn't be better and I drive back down to my hometown often to visit him.

Written down, this all seems pretty fantastic and I'm willing to bet a small fortune that, no matter how bad your current situation may seem, you'll be pleasantly surprised if you do the same. Having said that, isn't it funny how the majority of us seem to meander through life feeling sorry for ourselves when, in reality, we have so much to be thankful for?

Now before anyone points out the obvious, I'm not completely away with the fairies and I'm certainly not naive enough to forget that yes, there are people out there who may not have such things in their lives. In fact, it is those people who have all the more reason to take stock of how wonderful their lives are in so many different ways. Possessions may not always be material - whether it is the love of someone special, the support of our families or even just good health; we always have something to be thankful for.

It all seems pretty simple when you think about it like that; I just wish that we could somehow instill that mantra inside those negative souls we encounter day to day and suddenly, the world may start to seem a somewhat better place.