Someone just said to me: ‘So, are you gutted about last night?’ to which I honestly replied: ‘No, why should I be gutted? They lost, that’s all.’ I don’t mind losing, the feeling – much like boredom – should be embraced, taken in, ruminated over. The initial feeling of overwhelming disappointment (some will feel anger/hatred; a common fault in our circuitry) soon wears off for me and then it is eventually forgotten completely. I have ‘lost’ many times in my life and have always tried to accept this ‘losing’ as an essential component to my life; something that is as integral to me as all the things I’ve gained. Although, I must admit, some of my gains weigh on my mind in a way that any loss simply cannot compare. This, I suppose, is the beauty in accepting all loss: weighing up the difference.
*
""A story assembled from everyday objects, unassumingly and quietly, that stuns and horrifies by increments...The Canal may look, at first glance, like a love story, but it harnesses the power of parable." John Wray, author of Lowboy.
