Everything would touch me. A dog that goes after a stranger. It was buckling me. A calendar showing the wrong bear. I could just cry for that. I cried. At the end of the smoke from the chimney. When a overturned bottle is stuck on the edge of the table. I spent my life to learn less. I was less touched every day. Is this to grow? Or is it worse? You cannot protect yourself from unhappiness without protecting yourself from happiness.
The quoted text expresses a deep sensitivity to the world, where even the smallest events evoke profound emotions. The narrator reflects on moments that trigger tears, such as a dog's behavior, a seemingly trivial calendar mistake, or a bottle precariously perched on a table. These observations reveal a weariness of emotion, suggesting that the experiences that once moved them are becoming dulled over time.
This leads to a contemplation about the nature of growth and emotional resilience. The narrator questions whether the gradual numbing to emotions is a natural part of growing up or a detrimental loss of sensitivity. The quote highlights a poignant truth: to shield oneself from pain and sadness often means shutting out joy and happiness as well, illustrating the complexity of emotional experiences.
