To Whom It May Concern,
You should have killed yourself that day if there was any hesitation, like those dying embers in your fireplace (you know, the one with red bricks and fingerprints you couldn't hide). It is sad. You cannot hide from us.
And yet again we regret to inform you that you are nothing, that the world around you is nothing, nothing at all (to worry about). We can assure you, however, that you were loved, but it was your fault your debts have piled up and now, our love for you has grown too deep to measure.
You have refused to pay what we desired
[thought]
would benefit you, and we are so, so sincerely sorry to say that the world loves us indeed, more than you. Those mirrors of yours are now in our possession.
We, as the humble servants of this generation, know that it was unevitable, because you were
[are]
weak, and we are strong. Voice is not good enough. Blood pays us well.
We are not apathetic, for we shed tears. Just for you, although your absence from our lives means little at nost. (Please do not take this to heart).
It is a shame to notify you, such a fine sir or madam (we're sure) that we have uprooted yoru trees and mowed down your walls and spilled oil over the mess which--unfortunately--set your home
[heart]
on fire. As of now we are beginning new construction from the charred remains.
We are also sorry about the loss of your files within our offices. Our secretary seems to have lost them in too many lies (and that was your fault, too).
May you Rest Long and Happy,
__________________
