To consciousness and CityLife* in a second, mentally based reality are all men born;
if you live -- you “make the best of it” --  all denials, spurious.
Citizens can complain  --  such is their privilege --
but leaving is reserved for only a few.

Tip: bitching about the place makes departure impossible:
a neat arrangement the Chamber of Commerce has with certain neurotransmitters.

Curious feature: CityLife is founded on words,
and while words are this universe’s most expeditious conveyor of information,
most citizens are malnourished,
.....(having no outside standard for comparison, they do not realize it however,
    and no harm is done.)

“Pa, is it possible for any actual harm to be done in our universe?”
    “Only if it is attempting suicide.”
“Hummmmm, well how ‘bout: same question regarding, in-my-mind?”
     “Same answer.”
 
 
 
 
 
 

One TransSerialPhysician so advised his super select patients:
”Utmost care should be given to two areas: the mouth and the anus:
the entry and exit points for all of the body’s nourishment”
and one man pondered its application regarding the ins & outs of his mind.
 
 
 
 
 

What goes on in the PenthouseBallRoom the ordinary call:
“Talking-to-their-self” and the hipper call: “My-mind-talking-to-me,”
and what the hipper still refer to as: “Life-talking-to-me,” but what the
hippest of all call: “Life talking to itself with me caught in the middle of it.”
 
 

                               Only the few
                               notice what words can cause men to do –
                               no, not fight --  but become addled instead of informed.
 
 
 

The way to identify normal citizens is that upon hearing the right cries and noises (in their mind or from elsewhere) --
they will show up for City-work every morning.

Those who would leave TheCity do not let sounds push them around,
(save those of the stomach and loins, perhaps).
 

 
                               Only the few are aware of
                               the ability of words to shove.
 
 
 
 
 

One man became alarmed  --  astonished  --  and aghast about conditions!
not about the conditions he was in --  but about the conditions in him.

Circumstances in TheCity are the same for all –
the reason they seem different is that life whispers different interpretations of the circumstances into each man’s brain; (helps keep CityLife moving),

Being of ordinary consciousness is the one mental condition wherein
no upkeep at all is required;
to bust loose from TheCentralUrburbs
takes all of the constant inner scrambling a man can muster,
(with the ultimate realization of its futility);
only the LiberatedFew can cash in a bus ticket that never was;
part of the extreme upside of losing (actually, throwing-away) your City greenCard.

  “No officer --  I am not from around here;
  it is just my physical resemblance to everyone else that confused you.”
Fact: Only those securely affixed to TheCity know where they are from
and where they are going:
those invisibly on ThePlains outside of town don’t know squat about such matters.     (Idiots!)
 
 
 
 
 
 

No one should think their self on ThisAdventure set
who has not a ramblin’ mind, good feet,
and a total disregard for City opinions.

No one there can tell you how to escape –
if they knew how they would not be there.

“Pa, does that mean that we are mostly on our own in ThisThing?”
     “Drop, ‘mostly’ boy  --   then forget the rest of that sentence.”
 
 
 
 
 
 

The speaker took the platform, glanced at his papers, then said:
“My topic tonight was to have been: 'Stupidity' –
and specifically: 'How Not To BE Stupid' –
but upon last minute consideration, even as I stand here –
I have decided I will not run the obvious risk of being thoroughly humiliated
in such an attempt --  so I’m cancelling” and folded his notes and left.

Remember: The face you can save  –  is not worth the effort it takes.

   “Pa, is that why TheMysteryKnights wore helmets with open visors --
    so they could see all the way around them?”
     “Nice try squirt, but what they had was a special unfettered inner sight
      whereby they can see all the way around the thing civilians call their, mind.”

Stupidity and routine consciousness are terrible things to waste
on those who do not properly appreciate them.
      “Put down your hand, boy.”
 
 
 
 
 

The CityPharmacist noted: “Everyone needs drugs to get by:
hormones and neurotransmitters,” and a man on horseback
at the Drive-In Window leaned in and said: “What about words?”
and the city dispenser of wisdom and potions was totally flummoxed,
(a quite common urban condition --  but rarely recognized  --
and hardly ever by the flummoxed.....okay! --  or by anyone else.
Indeed [now that you bring it up], that is how you most easily spot CityFolk:
they are clearly lost and just as clearly have no idea that they are.......okay! –
they play like they don’t).

Ask yourself: What drugs besides the ones required to keep you
minimally running both downstairs-and-up do you hunger for?
What would make you secretly and acceptably high in a fashion n’er seen by
CityFolks?

The GreatExpedition is the single human activity in which the distinction between
doing-it and wanting-to-do-it is blurred beyond any rational recognition.

  “Pa, then should I be saying to myself that I am: trying-to-wake-up --
   or that I am: wanting-to-wake-up?”
          “Get your cortical finger down in that particular crack, young crackhead,
           and you can spilt the whole mystery apart.”
 
 
 

Unless they hear the constant sound of threatening gunfire in the background, ordinary minds will listen to no descriptions of CityLife;
only animals in dream states will mount an ark before any sign of rain.

Test: How can you tell that any City wise man, saint, or guru
harbors any personal criticism of life?
          He is breathing.

Civil Engineering 101:
The City’s infrastructure is founded on the bedrock of bitching.

If you are a citizen of TheCity  --  and alive –
life (behind the scenes) incessantly fills your mind with complaints about
one thing:  TheCity.

  “Grandma --  if you are the insufferable bitch you tell me you are,
   and you have my best interest at heart, as you say you do,
   then why do you insist that I stay here with you?”

Those who never recognize the ever-rolling, below street level humor of life
will never get it.
 
 
 
 
 

Important Urban Medical News:
If they can speak semi coherently,
most City dwellers accept this as: being conscious.
...(Well, after all: how much is required to live a mental life of only seventy years
in the embalmer's waiting room?)
If the City has a motto it is: “Why expend more effort than is necessary?!”
an approach prominently pursued to its most profitable fullness by the universe
in its physical realm,
but one open to further consideration as it is played out in man’s mental one.

Effort is effort, with questions of its observable usefulness being irrelevant to
the few who understand what is going on in the neural reality.

         The only way that a CityEscapee can go wrong is by not going.
 
 
 
 
 
 

 
                                      Staring

                                One man could stare –
                                oh, how he could stare;
                                down at the ground,
                                or up in the air.
 
                                He could stare out,
                                and he could stare in;
                                awareness would stop,
                                and staring begin.

            Who is this poor man? --  and where can we find him?
                “He is an upstanding citizen of TheCity,
                           and I do not know why you people are picking on him:
                           it is his kind who keeps the place going,
                          and if you do not care for his kind, then you should just leave!”
                    “What the hell you think I’m trying to do, lady?!”

The above poem and conversational excerpt was brought to you courtesy of
                                your mental activities.
 
 

In TheCity, everyone is glassy-eyed;
on ThePlains outside of town --  everyone is no eyed.
 
 
 
 
 

The feature that confuses most would-be escapees is that the part of
your vocal consciousness that was born in TheCity
will remain forever part OF TheCity:
it cannot be freed or reformed;
what is possible is to locate in your consciousness a part not native thereto;
nurture it, and turn your back-on & deaf-ear-to the original part.
 

You can never ride away from the meaningless din of TheCity
if you continue to listen to it    --     seriously.
 
 

                             Only CityLife is serious;
                               just outside of town
                                 things are a riot!

                                        J
 
 
 
 

* Readers, (it is assumed),  by now understand that,  TheCity is a mental place --
    even though you can physically be in its external manifestations.