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.