The Remainder Man

The Remainder Man

I am not a starfish, I cannot sit blind, not breathing, breathless, in the dark depths of the ocean.

I am not an albatross weaving this way and that over the waters that cover the earth, I cannot soar in the sky.

There is so much I cannot be, cannot do.

If, or when, I write a book I could fill it with a catalogue of those achievements that will never be mine.

After publishing I could write a second edition outlining those tasks and abilities which I could only ever perform in a very imperfect manner.

Once all this writing has been done I could sit down with tears in my eyes and imperfections in my thoughts.

So much is missing.

I’ll never be an astronaut, will never pick up my walking stick and stroll about on the moon.

I am missing so much.

Once all these things that are lacking in my life have been examined, listed, and set in order I will, eventually, take time to look around me. To examine what is me rather than what is not, or no longer, me.

I might not be able to fill a book with what I am, what I have become, but I do believe there is enough here to fill a life.

I can smile, I can share that smile.

I can dream, I can still make plans and look to the future. I can make efforts to move forward. There is much in this world to discover and I have God given time to set about finding what is out there.

There are those in my life who help me along the way and I hope I too can in some small way aid others. I owe that to them and to the world.

There are times for silence and I can hold my peace when necessary. There are times to call out and I will try to sing the tune that is me.

So much is lost and out of reach, but so much remains.

keep on keepin’ on
:writing_hand: :smile: :heart:


Yes, but if you ever did get there, at 0.166 Earth gravity, walking should be a doddle !

ciao, Roland



The amount of farting I do, I could quite possibly float.
In a space suit that brings new meaning to the words “trapped wind”.

Is it a smile or merely flatulence?