Dear Boundless Lament of Remorse and Regret,
My feelings of sorrow are something that will only get more bittersweet with age.
Like a fine wine or display china, the quality and pricelessness due to the rarity,
connoisseur, and purveyor exist only to they who control the marketplace which
plucks this heartstrings. It is this emotional wallstreet that makes me weep with a heavy
burden before my disturbing excuse for what I call sleep encumbers me once again. As I
wallow in self pity, I exclaim aloud not able to control the repetitive screech: Oh boundless
lament of remorse and regret, what have I done! Sometimes with a shudder and others
with quivering jowls. This is me crying through the shakes. One day my transference of
empathy will hesitate no longer.