I am a thing of eternal paradox. My courage is fueled by righteous anger, but I am blinded by consuming rage, fed from my grudges. My empathy makes me vulnerable to others grief, but in the end, it is my own connection to similar trauma that breeds these sympathetic tears. Despite knowing that my entire world will one day fade into dust, I am overwhelmed with joy. Who am I?
The riddle "Help! I don't know the answer!" is unanswered.