Cruelty

I decided to reflect today.

I reflect most days, but not write it down. Today I met a stranger who was crying, and asked her if she was alright, but soon realized I was quite unequipped to be of consolation as her friend had passed just then, a long time family friend. Absent of religious platitudes, and having not thought about what I would've liked to hear myself when my father passed, I was not sure what to say, though on reflecting on the bus, I think it would have been wise to offer to keep the passed in my thoughts and remember good things about them. Instead I quite awkwardly talked about how my father had also passed from cancer years ago in a bad situation (covid). Cancer is cruel, and ugly, and meaningless, and I wonder if that honesty would have helped or not too. It is objectively terrible, and that is why people are applauded for fighting against it. There is no consolation despite it.

I want to be able to talk better. My emotional spectrum seems to be comedy or anger, maybe because of the nurture from being a guy.