I was sick of humanity at ten. Not in a sudden childish ideal but a the slowly built layer upon layer kind.
I was ready to be a hermit, there was a person on Fluther that no longer is that reminded me of that me. So bitter it emanated from me. I thought I was enlightened and free from preconceptions of false hope and humanity. My emotions other then my quiet anger were boxed up and put on a shelf.
What restored normalcy to me. Tragedy, life, finding I did actually care about things, raging horomones.
It was a slow process. Nature, art, people, creativity, finally being open enough for people to squeeze in.
When I saw that person and their anger and deseparation. I realized just how far I had traveled. How much better I was. And the tiniest nudge that maybe I should help, but apparently I have some growing to do or just some self preservation because I shook that off.