Your mind is potential and your attitude, determination--qualities of a brother, in the d'Anconian sense of term--yet despite these positive attributes, perhaps in spite of them, and despite my attempts and non-attempts at alleviation, your actions are repetition, a hideous doppelgänger of historical errors quickly transgressing into (all too real) sins; this time, though, on this rare, fortuitous, ominous second chance, you place the Platonic ahead of the real, frantically bailing a sinking deathraft of idealism with a Dixie cup of reality--an attempt that is necessarily futile but not necessarily fatal, given your ability to swim and the many life preservers within your reach; but, whether unfortunate or unconscionable (since this time, unlike last, the result will be the same), your perception is emotion and your evaluation, stone, because in spite of these failings--perhaps despite them--you bail on, forgetting that it takes only a teaspoon of water to drown a man.