Recently I dreamed that I was at a carnival or fair and my friend Cara dragged me to a tent in which one could purchase absolution for fifty cents. At the entrance, a priest took my quarters, then placed his whole, huge hand over my forehead and eyes. I began to cry, not aloud, but a whole hell of a lots of tears wet his hand. He passed me on to the confessor, who said to me, "I know what your problem is. You are weeping too much to see."
I don't know why I told you. Let's pretend it's a parable.
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Recently I dreamed that I was at a carnival or fair and my friend Cara dragged me to a tent in which one could purchase absolution for fifty cents. At the entrance, a priest took my quarters, then placed his whole, huge hand over my forehead and eyes. I began to cry, not aloud, but a whole hell of a lots of tears wet his hand. He passed me on to the confessor, who said to me, "I know what your problem is. You are weeping too much to see."
I don't know why I told you. Let's pretend it's a parable.
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