A humble prayer

Dear Mother and Father,

I've been praying to God lately. Please don't be angry at me for going behind your backs. Let me explain: Do you remember that dream I described earlier where the Queen of Hearts called a monster to tear off my head? I have had many more like it. They are delightfully mundane compared to what I used to dream about, but they have been gradually escalating to become more and more horrific. The thing that alarms me, I suppose, is that the aether seems to resonate with them, as if some part of them existed somewhere outside my mind. It makes me most shamefully paranoid. I have taken to checking dark corners whenever I move to a different room. It is an embarrassing condition, but when I say a prayer before and after my dreams, they are milder and I feel better throughout the day.
Now I see what my problem is: I have been allowing myself to be led around by my feelings like a pitiful little marionette. I am a creature of flesh, cast adrift by the tempest of my frivolous passions. Forgive me, Mother and Father. It will not happen again.
The unauthorized prayers end today.

Love,
Your Shaqad