A crushed flower with just one petal left.
A 70-year old virgin in Bangkok who has just found out ‘she’ is a he.
A war refugee who has been evacuated to Slough.
A butterfly whose wings no longer work.
A superstar DJ who has just gone deaf.
A monkey robbed of his last banana.
A prince, married to a princess who has just chopped her hair off.
A vegetarian locked in a butcher’s freezer.
A duck in the desert.
A kebab van in a pigeon-free land.
A Yorkshireman with no gravy.
Yes, I have the Ibiza blues in severe form and feel like I could cry for weeks. Deep down I know it is better to love and lose than not to love at all but the reality of Bracknell is causing me deep emotional trauma right now and I am inconsolable. No sunshine, no parties, no ridiculously beautiful young Spanish ladies.
I will smile again. But not today. Or tomorrow. Even gravy would be futile.