On Being Inadequate.

I just looked at the solution to a Guardian crossword puzzle and realised what a lamentably poor vocabulary I have. So then I wondered whether being slightly mad is sufficient compensation for being semi-literate. And then I wondered whether how and what you are matters one jot, since you only die in the end and that’s that.

I got bored, so then I decided to look through my pictures file to see whether there were any I felt inclined to post. A theme emerged: Losing. Here goes:

This is a picture of a butterfly that used to be a routine sight in my garden every summer, but which I haven’t seen at all this year.

  

This is a picture of somebody who used to talk to me but doesn’t any more.

  

This is a picture of the man who wrote the music to the film adaptation of a novel written by the great great aunt of the wife who left me to go and live with some other bloke in Bristol, while I pursued an alternative relationship of my own which ended in abject failure.

  

This is how I dream of ending up.

This is how I expect to end up.

Only kidding.