So what's your world like?

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So aspies are generally known for being loners, living in "their own little world", so what's your world like?

Personally, my world is filled with music, jumping obstacles, things to climb, people who hate me-and a few people who dont, cartoons and comedies.

My world is about 24,000 miles in circumference. 8,000 in diameter. Roughly spherical (though maybe slightly fatter round the waist due to creeping middle age or perhaps centripetal force) and weighs a lot.

Perfunctory as descriptions go, but I like to keep things literal.

My own world is based on Boston Legal. Alan Shore and Denny Crane are there, plus plenty of people I hate to insult. In my own world, I am not clumsy and I have a best friend. Despite preferring to be alone in reality, the truth is I would quite like to have a best friend but due to my inability to connect with people it is only possible in my own world.

Mine's called the Internet.

My inner world is... Well, it's very cute; somewhat based off of the Kirby videogames. My palace there is very girly; full of frills, lace, ribbons, the color pink, rainbows... I didn't like that kind of stuff as a child, but I find that the older I'm getting the more girly I'm becoming. ^_^;;;

Right now my two best imaginary friends are Rip Van Winkle from Hellsing and Nia Teppelin from Tengen Toppa Gurren Lagann.

My world is filled with walking, jogging, running, various odd jobs, consulting, studying ( I love to study) arting, looking for ways to be creative, watching documentaries on various topics, volunteer work.

round, wet, has zebras and kangaroos, blue skies...

Mine has a lot of dinosaurs. And Smart cars. And dinosaurs driving Smart cars.

Here is an example of my world:
The staircase is rickety, blue, rusted from the constant drip of water: there is a lake overhead. The plink, plink sound of the drops hitting the steel steps reverberates endlessly, it seems, off the unseen walls, travelling outwards as a quantifiable, distinct voice but returning a changeling, swapped for something stranger and imbued with qualities that cannot quite be grasped, but that lurk at the back of the mind, slipping through your mental grip and remaining elusive no matter how much attention you give to them.
There is a dim electric light at the top of the stairwell, illuminating the corner that holds this means of descent. You can see that the landing is scuffed, the paint peeling away to reveal the silver steel underneath; the paint on the handrail is almost completely worn away, and the metal is shiny from years of use: years of fingers in contact with the cold rail, leaving parts of themselves on the metal to be picked up by the next person to come along the way. Almost like a strange conversation, an imprinting of human existence on a line for the next person to receive and respond to with her own cells.
The bulb enlightens a few metres of the ceiling. At first glance, it seems to have been roughly and carelessly carved: the surface is uneven, there are pockmarks and lumps covering it. But a closer look reveals that each mark has been made with the utmost care; every hill and valley means something. In fact, the ceiling is carved with a scale model of the land outside: its craters, cities, rivers, forests are all depicted in detailed miniature. It is not known whether or not the entire ceiling is carved this way, as there is not enough light to see very far in any direction, but given the size of the room, it is estimated that if the ceiling were entirely covered with carvings, the entire world would be represented – not just the outermost layer, but also inside every house, under every leaf or rotting log, even the interior of this room itself. There is a theory that somewhere on the carving there is actually a carving of the carving, and that somewhere on the carving of the carving there is a carving of the carving of the carving, and so on, an infinite number of times with infinite detail. Well, not quite infinite, because in order for there to be infinite detail, the room would have to be of infinite size, which is not the case. But there are carvings within carvings; worlds within worlds.