My neighbor Jorge had the sense he was of sophisticated ilk, yet he was more primitive in nature than he led you to believe. It was of vital importance to him that he remained touching the various aspects of his own psyche that mercy was inclined to carry him up the hill of decency. He had never possessed the secret that every man was a priest unto himself. That when man enters a bar or enters a church they are searching for the same thing. He spent his natural life in unnatural pride. He wrote many letters to his mother telling her of his great nature that compelled him to lose himself in all manner of visions. Visions that were no far reaching than his thoughts took him. His mother kept all his letters in a neat bundle and was kind to judge and glad to hear. According to Jorge his mother was a laugh without a joke and was susceptible to her duty of her place...