I have always loved stories of mystery, drama and love. I have been willing to fall into the escape of movies and books and sometimes even music. Now, when in the heart of the turn of the story/movie or crescendo of the Opera Seria, there is a sharp blood drawn reminder of some weakness/misery of one character that pulls me back into my reality and as if in a time warp I crash again to earth and I collapse in tears. I become a cloth that has been thrown.
I cannot accept sympathy of others, because my life has been so rich and lucky and unearned. Even now I watch the news and realize my pain is just a splinter among those who flee war, slavery or starvation. But I do now feel a filial relationship in the great migration of humanity looking for answers to "What's It All About?"
(Sorry this is so enigmatic. But it is what it is.)