For 4 months, the title of my last blog, " I'm a loser" has conveyed to any visitor a sense of self revulsion I don't really feel. So, I'm updating to correct that impression. But I think I feel more out of the game right now than a winner or a loser. The word i would have chosen last week to describe my sense of self would have been ephemeral, but with connotations only I may associate with the word.
I mean the dictionary says ephemeral means "intended for short duration" or something like that. I think of a dream-like state, insubstantial but with with faint luminescence, transient and haunting. Well, I guess the transient part fits, but the rest I must have added myself . Maybe that's the poet in me. Which reminds me of the quote from my father. "Ireland was a land of poets and pig farmers, and we weren't the poets" False modesty.
