Seeing grown men cry strikes a chord in me, a clang, dissonant, the cloudy eye and cracking throat makes me uneasy. Though it is not just those that trouble me, a persons freed emotions are trivial things, yet I weep, sob, lament all the time. Do not misunderstand me. Do not assume I have no anxious human worry. I saw Dad cry once when he spoke about his mother. Isn't it strange to think I would ever cry for my parents, as though they wouldn't be around forever? I've cried over friends I have no heed for now, moods are temperamental. Feelings are irrelevant and I am slave to their swinging. Cannot switch them off must move with them and their constant tide.