Is there such a thing as "the curse of compassion?" According to Milan Kundera in The Unbearable Lightness of Being, compassion is a disease that overtakes the spirit, leading people to do things they don't want to do. I've never been a particularly emotional person; I feel things, but I also hate things. Lately, I've been finding that the "hate" part arises within my body less and less.
I seem to cry a lot lately, but not because of anything in my own life. My grandmother told me some stories about the Great Depression earlier today on the phone, and I cried. I listened to the song "The Walk," which is about international dissonance, and I became somber. I watched the movie The Elephant Man, and I silently wept through most of it.
At the same time, I'm very happy about many things as well. I smile whenever a child hugs me, and I laugh when my dog gets excited about a rubber ball. I feel like my excess of emotion has to do with some sort of transition I'm going through, from girl to woman, or whatever they call people with vaginas these days. The world is incredibly delightful and depressing all at the same time, and I suddenly understand that both are always present at every moment, and they are both worthy of my tears.