I fail to see the humour in having a pulse. Your insipid hopes and dreams will only serve as a further catalyst to an ageless resurgence, and reminding me ad naseum drives the point home stronger than ever. I refuse to be sorry for denying a spoon fed a destiny that
simply cannot fit. I hope you enjoy slaving away for someone else’s dreams just so your wife can have a bigger house. If this is your fairy tale, then your heartwarming story makes me sick.