After all the little boy who can't cry is just another horrific story about small children who are being brutalized every day, all over the world in acts of hatred, politics, and money.
Those people that care, take a day or at most three for the usual crocodile tears of feeling bad and then forget about it all. That is what comprises the limits of compassion in our sick society.
People are starving to death, dying all over the world.
Why are we not as excited about doing good or saving lives as we are about running fast, swimming fast or seeing who's the best at running around after a ball?
I write about this little boy who can't cry because he is the world. Silent in spite of unbearable agonizing pain, cruelty, and stunned into being mute.
Look into this little boys eyes, his face, there is nothing there, he is alive but there is no life coming from him, he is seriously injured, but there is no awareness coming from him, he is lost, gone, existing in another place that no-one wants to know about.