Walking around Oxford, my hometown, I used to see Radiohead frontman Thom Yorke from time to time. He always looked miserable.

At Boots the Chemist? Miserable.

At the Ashmolean Museum? Miserable.

Having a picnic with his family? Miserable.

Walking down North Parade? Miserable.

It was only years later that I realized he was miserable because I was looking at him, and there must have been hundreds of other people who were doing the same.

Thom Yorke wasn’t the problem. I was the problem.

Sorry, Thom Yorke.

Photo by Jen S, released under a CC license.