mess

i have this habit of reading a short story between every two books i read (novels, anthologies, very rarely nonfiction) and i have some catching up to do now that i'm back from the holidays - i finished six books at my parents' so i'm reading six stories from Proud! (edited by Juno Dawson)

and i'm a complete mess apparently, i keep crying while reading these, sometimes for no particular reason (and often for very good reason)

cry in the train

i really like it when books (or films) make me cry, and i don't mind being seen crying while reading a book, even somewhere public like in the train. partly because, well, i just enjoy being touched so deep by a book, but also for a large part as a declaration to the empty uncaring universe: "look! look at me! i'm not a complete cold heartless monster without empathy after all. you see? i am capable of having feelings!"

but is it really empathy if i only care about myself and how others perceive me though...