Why are you so sad?
I see that you are crying. Can I get you a Kleenex? I desire to console you in your moment of sorrow.
I, too, have often felt emotional pain. I remember when my cat died, I was nearly disconsolate. My heart ached with longing for my cat.
Or maybe it was my neighbor’s cat. I don’t exactly recall. At any rate, it blew. Big time.
What’s that? Your tears do not reflect feline-sorrow of any sort? It is of no matter. I was simply trying to empathize with you. It is a gift of mine, you see.
Empathy – the hollow feast of the damned.
Maybe that was too much. Was it too much? I’m just attempting to demonstrate that I hear your pain and understand it. Sometimes I have a tendancy to get overly dramatic. Like the time I tore my tunic in two to empathize with my wife’s frustration in rush-hour traffic. That episode was unfortunate, especially considering I was on my way to a job interview.
Anyway, let’s stay on topic here. You. Your pain. Your world is collapsing, and there is nothing you can do about it but weep bitterly. It is over. All your dreams have vanished into dust, like my grandmother’s original hip. There is nothing for you now. All that remains is sorrow and nightmarish troll-rape.
What’s this? You say you aren’t unhappy at all? Your tears are merely a reaction to the onion you are slicing? I see. And no empathy is necessary, given your current situation? Indeed…
Well, if you are ever in need of some sympathy and a warm touch, please don’t hesitate to come my way. I can usually be found eating out of the dumpster behind the Burger King on Washington Avenue. I would be happy to service you again!