Treerattabletop

"She wants a guy who can cry and be sensitive" is the most unhelpful reduction of that longing imaginable. Imagine experiencing the impossible, haunting beauty of the world, feelings that make you want to fight or weep or scream until you taste blood and looking over at a partner that is utterly numb to it. What a terrible loneliness to share a moment with that. No one wants someone who can "cry and be sensitive", that's just them with their ear to a mouth, listening for signs of even shallow breath.

Me at work in a meeting when someone mentions something topical from the news, forgetting for a moment that I'm not in a safe place with other like-minded champions of the zeitgeist with valorous souls: "hah, more like deadbert"

It's desperately important that you create art, because as everything floods with the inevitable gray, the part of you that knows how to love will shrink without a need for it; but when you sing or paint or kiss you have no choice but to stumble over beauty and empathy. It drags you by the throat towards the best kind of purpose. Art will save your life.