Regret & Redemption

   
   "Regret & Redemption"
   
   We all have regrets--hell, even Trump admitted his own--that's moxie!
   Young and molested girls speak with a high, squeaky adolescent vernacular, as if they are only a piece of sass and trash; moreover, what rhymes with that.  Is it their fault for their uncouth actions?        No!  They were submitted to a type of sinister behavior, not like the sublime, Catholic, intellectual brainwash, where Aquinas "The Good Doctor" was regally read, but "victims" through iniquitous, carnal torture; thus, forgive them!
   I hate this Election!  Hillary, possibly false medical crap; plus, Trump, flat-out ego, yet it fits well.
   I miss Bernie.  I miss Johnny Football and Tim Tebow--yes Mr. Tebow, you should've been a Defensive End and given poetic justice to other quarterbacks, for you will always be an awesome quarterback, but maybe:  time to transcend.  And you can still tackle better than swing the bat--we adore your love of Christ.
   We all feel; then, we fall--as might James Joyce mention, and he did.  But we can get back up--even in the terminal stages.  We can become angels.  We can pamper and adore the sublimity of things, such as sweetly:  Jude the Obscure, giving chances beyond pragmatic reason.

POST SCRIPT:  I will not stop fixating upon the muscle car--whether heavy or lean.  The massive eight cylinder, or the turbo-charged six--even the super-charged four cylinder--I might give potential praise to that intrepid toy.  The automobile is my solace and sanctuary, though I'm phobic concerning driving.  Just stay cool.  Too, test every spirit.