Crying. It is seen as a social stigma to cry, especially for the male humanoid species. Because crying is seen as weak. Because the society's perception is that revealing emotions, being emotional, is weak.

But a man cries too. A man sheds tears too. After all, he is no different. The only difference is just that they chose to encase themselves in shells, a hard covering for a soft center. And just how deep can the soft center be found, it depends on different individuals.

And there can only be ONE reason for a man to shed tears. Only one. For his loved ones. A man only sheds tears for his loved ones. No other reason is there to.

Quite recently, I have found such foreign objects in the windows of my soul as well. More often than not.

I see Hope, almost gone. I see the candle by the window, its light flickering, almost gone under the strong wind blowing in through the windows, the curtains billowing.

I see Despair. The shadows casted across the walls, dancing a slow dance. And if I look carefully enough, I see someone crouched in the corner, his eyes filled with despair, his shoulders heaving.

I see Weariness. The shoulders drooped, no longer upright as it was. The eyes, they have lost their gleam.

And yet, somehow, I see something. Something in him tells him to fight on. Against all odds. Ignore the pain.

Easier said than done.

Pom lak kun.