Often when he would do something dumb and not uncommon to him as a flea,
this one flea would mentally bark at himself: “You damn flea-brain!”
then one day after doing so he thought:
“But, ah! --  there may be method to my fleaness!
I may be doing things like this just to throw me off balance;
to lull me into a false sense of  --   ah hell!  who am I kidding!”

Not infrequently when he would do something exemplary of a flea,
this one flea would disgustedly say to himself about himself: “You damn flea-brain!”
‘til one day it hit him: “So what am I expecting?!”
 
 
 
 
 

The father part of one man’s mind said to his son counterpart:
“What by nature you are, affords one of two possibilities, it is either:
no excuse whatever for being like you are, or else complete exoneration for being so,” a statement which the younger clearly did not take to,
and about which he requested additional elucidation;
“Okay,” said the elder: “What by nature you are is one of two things:
it is either no excuse at all for how you act, or else a full explanation therefore,”
a variation that plainly still did not sit well with the son section,
so the father faction tried again: “All right then: what by nature you are either
totally excuses what you think, or else you’re an imbecile,”
  “Though perhaps one with brilliantly judged thoughts?” injected the lad,
“Yes, but still an idiot,”  said the father,
and the lad now seemed to have grasped the hand,
that lit the match,
that caused the fire,
that produced the smoke,
that was the words being used by one creature with its own peculiar nature,
to say something about that nature that its nature did not dictate it to say.

The superficial complexity of this (an illusion natural to naturally produced thought)
prevents common human minds from both comprehending what has just been noted, or even having any interest therein.
“Yes my son  --  it’s just you and me (until you get fatted up enough for me to gobble up).”
     From one perspective: The realization of what is really going on
     is the result of specialized, neural self-consumption.
     Economists say that bad money drives good from the marketplace,
     and regarding thoughts: the realization of the one supreme thought
     clears your mind totally of all counterfeit ones,
     leaving you unencumbered and liberated  --
     free to lay around in your head and do whatever you damn well please:

There continue to be rumors of men who undertook a search for
something quite extraordinary, which they decided lay to the east of them,
but after encountering numerous obstacles in that direction,
changed their mind and started heading west.

When two-eyed, split-brain creatures look at maps drawn by their own kind,
their natural tendency is to see there being but one direction as the proper one
to a given location;
the mind working thus produces the wondrous world of technology & comfort in which man physically lives,
but thought being so confined,
when it tries to work on matters outside the physical realm, produces nothing  --  nothing, that is, unless you are ordinary  --
and forced to act like the imaginary is actually something.
    (As the Travel Doctor once noted:
    “This is why life gave men a mind:
     so they could dream of great journeys,
     draw up plans for outrageously complex expeditions,
     then strike out! --   only to have major breakdowns in their equipment,
     get lost and disoriented,
     run low on fuel and patience,
     begin to fight among themselves  --   and finally:
     crash into a ditch  --  get disgusted and head for home --
     while pretending they have not.”
     (It's info like that that you just can’t get from the Triple A.)

Even the very few of the few who succeed in the search, for a major part of their lives do not actually know what they are looking and longing for, and be totally assured: realizing this is the first and supremo, mind opening step in the right direction.
In the unknown area outside the established city structure of the mind --

One man finds distinct comfort in his ultimately understanding that all
city-based conclusions are inadequate  --   and that such be their nature.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

A recent headline read:
“CITY MINDS SEE NOTHING ABOUT THEMSELVES AS BEING IMMUTABLE,
DUE TO THEM BEING IMPERISHABLY IMPRINTED WITH THIS BELIEF,”
and a man (picturing most readers’ probable reaction thereto) mused:
“When men do not want to speak the words: ‘So that’s how it is!’  --  they say instead: ‘Isn’t that ironic'- as though the mind is uncontrollably driven to contrive
any verbal smokescreen necessary to keep from admitting it can see reality dead on,”
this matter can be pictured as consciousness’ understandable attempt at
linguistic slight-of-hand to distract from the fact that the mind is incapable of
seeing the back of its own head, and thus being able to profit from
the essence of the headline, rather than mocking it as just another example of
man’s blundering hubris  --   (other men’s of course).
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Upon hearing the cliché: “Out of sight, out of mind,”
one man began trying not to look at the thoughts that naturally appear in his head.
And another man wrote the Travel Doctor:
“I have been wondering about something: is it further from living to dying
than it is from where I am now in my thinking to where I somehow feel I could be?  --  even though I have no clear idea of what this other mental, where might be,”
to which the doctor replied: “Well for damn sure:
if you wait for death to reveal the answer to this, you will not be (shall we say)
in the most propitious position to make use thereof.           Can we say this?!” –
(a query to which the correspondent understood enough to bow).
 

What goes on in your body is constantly and unstoppably dying;
in your thinking (for the few) can be another matter entirely;
about the first, you can do nothing, and neither for the second,
until you recognize that thoughts have no birth,  thus no demise,
and like Old Man River: “They just keep rolling over you” (if you let ‘em, of course).
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Just to (as he put it): “Keep the people alert,”
wherever he walked, one king had a courier follow behind him
crying out, right after he had just passed:

On the street of every individual residence to which each man is born
is the same noise from a constant flow of traffic –
most simply live with it, quickly accepting it as a normal part of life;
a few futilely attempt to stop it;
what they fail to ever realize is that the urge itself originates in the noise;