It’s weird, but hardly I cry out of sorrow. It’s something I’d desire to do more frequently as to light my chest sometimes, but in the end it seems I cry more because of hate, or for tears of joy, and the latter had been getting strangely common.
It seems to be a matter of attained nuclearity, the way I’ve met a spot inside me and changed things and suddenly certain events become emotionally potent for me. It was totally unexpected for me to find myself being touched by all the gestures of generosity.
It’s become something suddenly so strong I have to control it sometimes, the way I’m on the bus and see a father talking kindly to his son, or people suddenly making sudden acts of nobility, and I feel my eyes suddenly get moisten.
It doesn’t happen all this time with this potency, of course, but whenever I see some act of politeness I feel myself so much better about the world. It’s a little relieving to know that in this world we haven’t got this many despicable people as some like us to believe, but that there’s people out there who don’t have the ambition to harm others, but simply live their lives by good manners. Most people want a quiet life, out of trouble. How many times I’ve stumbled on a stranger and we both apologized to each other?