At the beginning of my 20-minute train commute back home today, I was weeping over the foreseeable death of my sister's dog Pipi. And at the end of it, my mind drifted somewhere else already. Not that I did not feel sad anymore, but probably that I knew I was too useless to do anything to help extend his life. But then again, I did not even know if having his life extended would be something he wants.
Life is full of sadness. I stopped weeping the moment I realised the worst of it.