As I'm walking out, an overwhelming wave of guilt washes over me. I see the old man gingerly handling each item as he places it back on the shelf. I see the guy my age just trying to do his job with a good attitude. I think about my items, and they'll probably make his evening just a little bit worse. I walk out anyway.

As I'm driving home, I think of all the people I might encounter while walking to my room, and later walking to see Monsoon Wedding, people I might see in the theater, after the movie. I don't want to interact with any of them. I wonder why this is, when I feel this burden inside of me. I want to hold people silently, to gently run my fingernails against the backs of all the hurt little boys in this world, through the hair of all the little girls looking for love. And I realize there is an aspect of the world that's been lost. We make love to people we don't know, we smile at people as they pass and then scowl at their backs. We have such a false intimacy that undermines everything that is real. When did this happen? What went wrong?

And I can't put my finger on it, but my breath catches, and I know this world lacks something worth mourning for.