The writer attempts to retreat from the world in prayer when dreams intervene and the struggle begins, between the conscious and the unconscious, between thought and imagination. In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti. Amen All men along the waters edge, the drowning tractor wheels in mud, Go slow, back where we came, pray to the creeping poison vines.
Strange, and unedifying. Some, though, assume that which is strange and unedifying "must have some secret measure of edification, for otherwise it would be too strange, and it couldn't possibly be a bunch of meaningless drivel, could it?"
The SUPERIOR RELIGION of TEMPLISM plays so such tricks. A man as UNACCEPTABLE as yourself is more than welcome to it.
Strange, and unedifying. Some, though, assume that which is strange and unedifying "must have some secret measure of edification, for otherwise it would be too strange, and it couldn't possibly be a bunch of meaningless drivel, could it?"
The SUPERIOR RELIGION of TEMPLISM plays so such tricks. A man as UNACCEPTABLE as yourself is more than welcome to it.