I never cry when I am hurt, or angry or afraid. Or when I am lost and lonely and far from home. I don’t cry over spilt milk or a broken heart.
But I do cry over injustice and bigotry.
I never cry from shame. I never cry for pity. I never cry wolf, or foul, or to make myself seem more sensitive than I am.
But I can’t watch those commercials of starving children or abused animals, because I would cry like a baby… a starving baby.
I never cry for vengance or war.
But I will weep copiously over their aftermath.
I never cry over my beer, or during the sad parts of movies.
But I have wept when I have been moved.
I never cry out in rage.
But I will howl at the moon.
I never cry for sheer joy.
I am not bragging or justifying, just stating a fact.
I never cry at the end of things, no matter how sad the passing.
But I sometimes shed a tear at beginnings, because that is where the hope lies…
I never even cry at funerals, and that is sad, but not sad enough to make me cry.
I didn’t even cry when my children were born, because for some reason, as I said, I do not cry for joy. But at both those moments there was no room in my heart for tears of any kind.
I cried later, when I realized that these were the best kind of beginnings.
And I cried when I held Jessica as a Doctor put seven staples in her head, and again when a Doctor took them back out. Because that was all I could do.
I didn’t cry when my father died, even though it might have been really good for me, but tears seemed like a poor way to honor a life so long and so well lived.
Tears have never changed anything, (unless you count the times women have gotten out of a speeding ticket or won an argument with their boyfriend)…
Tears have never solved a problem, or lessened adversity.
Tears never stopped a war, cured a disease, or brought the dead back to life.
Tears have never fed a hungry child.
But tears have never hurt anyone, and there will always be more of them if you need them.
Tears might release a little of the anguish in your soul, but follow the tracks of your tears to a place where you can turn that anguish into something positive, something you can do in your life to make the world better.
Don’t let them be wasted tears.
I do not control my tears…
But my tears do not control me, either.
———————————————————-
This post is for Mr. Hotspur.
http://edwardhotspur.wordpress.com/
He writes things all the time that almost make me cry, until he slips a laugh in where you least expected it.
I wanted to do that.
So I just sat down and let the words come out… like tears.
Pouring My Art Out 
Very nice!! And I’m loving these comments as well. You’ve got some good friends. A little tear for you having to think up with so many witty comebacks. 😉
It is quite a challenge. Thank you for noticing.
This didn’t make me cry. It made me fart.
I would have expected nothing less… and nothing more.
Dear pmao,
Now you see, me being one of the few who has read RIGHT THROUGH YOUR BLOG FROM THE BEGINNING, this lovely post doesn’t surprise me one bit. I’ve been waiting for something like this and you’ve haven’t disappointed. 🙂
Love Dotty xxx
You are a good friend. I value your opinion. You are the most sane crazy person I know. I am glad you liked it.
This was gorgeous. I also liked the little bit of humor you snuck in there too, “Tears have never changed anything, (unless you count the times women have gotten out of a speeding ticket or won an argument with their boyfriend)…”
Loved the truthfulness of it.
Thank you very much. I was going for a subtle mix.
Wow.
This was great, and you’re the second of my go to blogs when I need a laugh to have flipped that around this week and write something beautiful.
There’s blog poachers out there? Those buggers. I think I’m safe, who’s gonna want to lay claim to a picture of Paula Deen in a martini glass.
Anyway, great post, your sensitivity suits you sir
Thanks. We are all evolving, I suppose.
This is amazing and so touching that it made me cry. My favorite line is “But I sometimes shed a tear at beginnings, because that is where the hope lies…” Beautiful.
Thank you so much.
Writing is what you should spend your energy on. Sweet Jesus, you are so good at it. I’ve said it before, likely I will say it again.
Is it worth it to worry about poachers?
Only if you are on the endangered species list.
That was extraordinary, PMAO.
Thank you. I wouldn’t want to get that in touch with my emotions every day.
This touched me! (In a good way, a poignant way…)
That is the best… and safest way, to touch anyone.
Muy Bueno, kind sir!
You would cry if I left, right? RIGHT? R-I-G-H-T?
No… that is an ending… I cry when you show up…
(I am so just kidding, but come on)…
“But I sometimes shed a tear at beginnings, because that is where the hope lies” – You mean like that?
Just seeing if you were only skimming. Now I might really cry.
Hmph. I hang upon your every word.
And here I thought we had something special…
Relationships are built on trust, but the framework is pure suspicion. (I don’t really mean that… sometimes I shoot so hard for being clever, that I make people think I am a jerk. Didn’t I read more of your stuff today? You think I have nothing better to do than slowly make my way through your life whenever I have a spare moment? I am enjoying learning about you. You are deep, and not everyone is… (not even everyone who has a blog is deep, and that would seem to be a requirement)
I am deep like a black hole of darkness ;o)
Ok fine, I forgive you.
What are you going to read tomorrow?
What am I going to read tomorrow?
You show me yours, and I’ll show you mine.
I already have.
You mean you are done? Or you mean… oh, never mind. I am just going to keep readin’ so why shoot for the moon?…
(did you see what I did there?)
Why shoot for the moon when the sun is sooo much nicer ?
I been burned before.
I think that Hotspur is serious. He really liked it. He should. It is good PMAO…really, really good. No bs, sarcasm, or anything else. That was incredible.
I will let you in on a secret. I have some really beautiful love songs that I have written over the years. And I think the comedy sci fi novel I am finishing the final edit on will stand up to any scrutiny. But I am leery of posting my very best words for fear of poachers. Does that make any sense? I can pop out new words and not care where they end up. But some things, a lifetime worth of emotion in one page, are too personal to toss away.
And thank you, I value your opinion of anything I do, good or bad.
You should be afraid of poachers around here. I have ideas that I won’t say because of that. We know who we can trust, but WP is too big. Too many people can come across our writings.
So, don’t toss them away. I can promise you that I will never lie about your writing. Unless it is a lie laced in obvious sarcasm, but I will not tell you that I like something if I actually think it sucked.
Sarcasm spotting is not, it would seem, my strong suite… suit?… soot? whatever…neither is spelling… But I don’t actually have such a fragile ego that the truth could shatter it.
And honestly, I like Ed, so much so that I copied his style, but I was really hoping that post would get you to think about me as something other than the guy who does ninja pictures.
(And my songs would totally make you cry, just so you know)
I already thought of you as more than that. I am so glad that you care what I think of you though. I don’t get that reaction much. I like you Pouring…really. Ninjas or not.
But the ninjas helped… just a little… right? Admit it…
Um…they were interesting. Words are my porn though, you can’t really top them with ninjas.
I should have had them performing hia ku love poetry while they went about their antics.
I’m not really a haiku fan…
I know that, you told me, and I remembered… but ninjas are Japanese… at least mine are… were… and I couldn’t think of any other type of Japanese poetry on short notice…
I only recently rediscovered my love for poetry. Just write. If you feel it, I probably will too.
I know what you mean. There were years in the middle, between my teenage, poetic years, where I just found poetry so pompous. I may have to dig through my drawers… if you will pardon the inelegant sentence… for some more of my old poems. I posted a few way back when.
I haven’t met many types of writing that didn’t turn me on in one way or another. Fiction, non-fiction, short, long, poetry, essay, it all is good.
Riting goode
Wow! Very well written and moving. Plus, I get to savor the mental image of Jesus Fucking Christ on a pogo stick. I may well obsess over it.
Can you tell if he is serious, because I can’t. And I suspect he isn’t.
Of course. Maybe?
Sigh…
Did you actually just say all that? Whoa! I could just – ah – cry! Beautiful! But don’t let that go to your head. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. You never cease to amaze and now I’ll go wipe my eyes. 🙂
Seriously. Nice! And, seriously nice.
Thank you. Now back to you regularly unscheduled broadcast…
Beautifully said, PMAO. I’m a big softy.
I sensed that about you, but not in a creepy way. (That just sounded weird, even to me)…(even as I was typing it)… But thanks.
Jesus Fucking Christ on a pogo stick, that was the best thing you’ve ever written. (And because I know it’s not always obvious, that was a 100% sarcasm-free comment.)
Oh you drive me crazy.
We never really talk anymore.
I wish I could quit you.
(OK, one of those may have sounded a little gay)…
A little?
I will not win this argument by resorting to crying…
You can try.
He’s kind of an asshole sometimes like that…
But is he, or does he just need us to believe that he is?
He was the one who told me to go read your blog. Pretty forcibly. He likes it:
“Did you see what Pouringmyartout wrote? That’s what I’m talking about. Uninhibited writing, it’s all the rage in awesomesauce. Go read it. Go! Do it!”
Don’t tell him this, but I think that secretly he is in love with you…just FYI.
It is like a crazy dream come true… sort of… I mean, he is no Conan the Barbarian…
He just likes playing hard to get…
He isn’t playing… he is hard to get…
Oh, man, that was clever in so many ways…Ha!
Totally.
I don’t know where these things come from…