So much clutter

Apparently despite all those TV programmes and media articles about decluttering, if anything the problem's getting worse.

Studies show that a third of the possessions in a typical UK home aren't used. Not only that but many people have forgotten they owned the items in the first place.

Garages are used more and more not for housing cars but storing all those items we can't fit into the house.

Jenny and I are pretty ruthless about getting rid of unwanted items, but even so there are still a few surplus items that could swiftly be disposed of. But it's easy to find bogus reasons for hanging onto things.

When I met Jenny I was living in a tiny bedsit, and I simply couldn't buy very much because there was absolutely no storage space. As we moved up the property ladder to bigger flats and then bigger houses, of course we acquired lots of bits and pieces to fill the extra room. So if we got rid of too much there would just be a lot of strange empty spaces.

Our biggest possession is books. We must have at least a thousand but we chuck our very few because we fully intend to re-read most of them. In reality most of them don't get re-read, they just sit there gathering dust or sometimes they're so old they simply fall to pieces.

Some of you will recall that my mother was a chronic hoarder. Luckily I haven't inherited that particular trait.

Hard to say

Social anxiety is a bit of a bugger, isn't it?

There I am at another routine social event, confronted by some total stranger, wondering what the hell to say to her or him. And my mind goes completely blank.

I search my mind for suitable topics. The strange turn in the weather? The political crisis? The price of olive oil? Electric cars?

For some reason no subject seems suitable.

They'll think I'm weird if I talk about something obscure.

But they'll also think I'm weird if I say nothing at all.

I'd love to be one of those natural chatterboxes who can not only effortlessly start a conversation but keep it going for a good half hour.

How do they do it?

My tongue-tied stance comes from my family. Almost every one of them is and was fiercely taciturn. Speaking is only permitted if there's something very important or urgent to say. Otherwise lips are sealed.

So I'm just very out of practice at this chattering lark.

I need one of those ear-phones TV presenters wear, so someone can feed me suitable comments and questions.

Or maybe I just need a badge that says "Ask me an awkward question".

How on earth....

One thing that's mystified me for many many years is how someone is able to kill another person - or even thousands of people - without any regret or remorse or guilt or shame or any of the normal emotions that would prevent most of us from doing something so appalling.

They might even brag about what they're doing as if it's something to be proud of - like Nicholas Prosper, who wanted to commit the biggest school massacre ever (and luckily was stopped in his tracks).

They just don't see their victims as human beings but as worthless objects to be "dealt with" in the name of some sort of personal grudge or grievance or festering hostility. Something has obviously gone horribly wrong in their upbringing.

I couldn't possibly injure another person, let alone kill them. I couldn't possibly do something with such horrendous consequences both for me and for the other person - no to mention for their family and friends. How could I possibly justify my action? Likewise I couldn't bring myself to commit suicide.

As for those individuals who're happy to start wars and kill thousands or even millions of people - I can't imagine how they manage to sleep at night, how they're able to continue with their duties as if nothing unusual is happening.

It just stupefies me. The mental state of someone who can do such things is so far removed from my own mental state that the gap is unbridgeable. I can't even begin to understand what's going through their mind. Can anyone?

One thing it makes very clear - you can never know what's going on in someone else's head. Maybe something wonderful. Or maybe something utterly hideous.