I'm not a particularly empathetic or emotional person in fact a lack thereof. So, to find myself crying on the stern cold floor comes a shock to me. The life pouring out of me and seeping into the floor to the neighbours down below. I never know why I cry, emotionally I mean; the subject of my crying is always unknown but the agitator is usually a movie or book. I always cry for the characters in the movies or books(which is surprising considering the
empathy I lack in real life), this time it's the dead poet's society. I felt for all the characters surrounding Neils's death; his mother pleading that he was still alive broke me inside even though parts of me knew she contributed to his death, Todd's reaction when Charlie told him and even Charlies face when he told Todd. Somehow during this period I also cry for Robin Williams. But sometimes I hold in my tears and wait for the movie to end before they implore out of me.After solemn hours on the bathroom floor my feet instantly drag me up and routinely take me to my bed. The early hours of the morning gave restless ambiance to the setting of the continuing day. Ambivalent turns in my bed whilst crisp sheets crunch underneath; and neighbour's shout below, the orange hue light that shines through the window like an artificial sunrise distract me from my sleep, and before sleep takes me my mind thinks back to her and