The other night, I dreamt a tick was burrowing himself into my thigh. I grabbed hold of him with my fingers. I was able to pull him out by his legs before he could burrow into my skin. I took a pair of tweezers out of my medicine cabinet and carefully and thoroughly removed all the stray tick parts. Then I cleaned the little wound site out with soap. When I woke up my thigh was perfectly fine, with no trace of tick insertion. Not because I’d pulled the tick out so carefully, but because he had never existed in the first place. Notice how ‘fixing’ fixed things in this example, but waking up
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