My name is Annika Ackerman.
That was a lie. I am not called Annika Ackerman, nor do I know any person named Annika Ackerman, nor do I desire to know them, or be her.
You believed me when I said my name was Annika, because you had no other information. Why, though, did you believe me when I told you I was lying by saying my name is Annika? How do you know I am not lying when I said I was lying in the first place, and therefore originally telling the truth? The answer is quite simple, really - you don't.
I could tell you that I have squinty, green eyes, and curly, dark hair, and am slightly less than average height, but you wouldn't have the slightest idea whether I was lying or telling the truth. The only way you could know was if I told you - and even then you wouldn't know if my words were true.
The internet is like that. You might waste hours of your time talking to an online friend, your conversations punctuated by numerous 'XD's. They tell you their favourite colour, and their favourite food, and the name of the boy they had a childhood crush on - and they might even be telling the truth - but you still wouldn't know them. Not really.
People are different on the internet.
In my experience at least, they're generally nicer. They're more eloquent, too. That girl in your French class whose vocabulary seems limited solely to 'swag' and 'innit' might be the most articulate in all of cyber space. From what I can tell, they're also far more accepting. The World Wide Web is the only place, to my knowledge, that society's (obvious, yet still somehow unofficial) regulations are not conformed to. The inhabitants of the internet can be as nerdy and abstracted as they want, and they're greeted only by people who recognise and cherish this, because they see it in themselves.
That's not to say that the internet doesn't have unofficial laws of its own. The caste system is just the same as in real life - the popular people lounge on top and let the lesser known residents scramble for second pickings. Groups or Fandoms are stereotyped shamelessly - the Directioners probably worst off, with every non Directioner branding the 1D fans with the mark of the twelve year old, hysterical fangirl, when actually a lot of them are perfectly nice people.
It has come to my attention that I seem to have neglected to tell you the purpose of this movella. For that reason, without further ado, I shall tell you what I mean it to be for now. (Although, until I actually began to properly write the rest of it, you can't know if my word is false or not.)
This movella is written by me, documenting the curiosities, oddities, unfairness, and wonders of life. Not just my own, but everyone else's. I forewarn you that some chapters I publish will be almost nonsensical, brimming with spark of molten ideas that merge and ingle with each other until they're barely distinguishable as separate. You also must know that some will likely transform into my closest equivalent of a rant. There will also be lists, because I like those, and possibly I will include a book review or two.
And if you're still reading now, thank you and congratulations. I wish to add only that any names or local places I mention or include in this movella are entirely the works of fiction. The ideas, opinions, and events I describe are quite wholeheartedly not.
- Annika Ackerman (At least, that's what I've told you. That's what you think.)