I don’t recommend, under any circumstances, stewing one’s self in a mix of equal parts rage and disappointment. I also do not recommend vaguely intimating it on a personal website.

O Rose, thou art sick!
The invisible worm
That flies in the night,
In the howling storm,

Has found out thy bed
Of crimson joy:
And his dark secret love
Does thy life destroy.

“The Sick Rose” / William Blake / Songs of Experience / 1794