One man said: “I’ve thought of two different things that seem to turn out to be
the same situation  --   see what you think:
in one instance a man says:
‘I don’t care that much about living  –  I just don’t want to die’
while in another instance a man says:
‘I don’t care that much about being awake  --  I just don’t want to be asleep.’
So  --  what d’ya think?  --  do you see a connection also?”
 
 
 
 
 

The independent thinker is like the world’s most gregarious recluse & out-going hermit,
and one man began to sing:
      “You turn your I-sight in,
        you turn your I-sight out,
        you turn a glance at your thoughts,
        as they shake you all about,
        you do the mental pokey,
        as they push you all around,
        that’s what it’s all about   --    to be normal,”
        (he says there’s a little dance that goes with it.)

In the city (according to one man) the way to have maximum fun for your money
is to not admit that you are having any,
and a reader writes to say he sometimes thinks that what I am saying is insane,
while at others times he feels that his reading of it is  –
(he also says he has a question about this matter, but is too ashamed to ask it).
 
 
 
 
 
 

Taking a page from the thespian’s Interview Guide, one man,
when something he has done is critically questioned, will say:
“I am not really a me --  I just play one in life.”

“Son, while it sure is easy to ridicule all the yackin’ people do about this and that meaningless crap --   still  --
if men didn’t talk about it life wouldn’t be a tenth as interesting as it is."
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

A man mentioned earlier later said:
“I’ve come up with some more stuff that at first looks different,
but that I see as actually being lump-brothers  --  dig it:
one man says: ‘It’s good to have migraines after you get cancer
‘cause the headaches help keep your mind off your dying,’
then another man says: ‘It’s good to get cancer
after you’ve undertaken to get to the bottom of things
'cause your terminal physical condition makes your sorry state of consciousness seem less important’  --    okay I made up that last guy; I didn’t really hear anyone say that --   I just got to pondering what effect knowing that you’re dying might have on a someone involved in the struggle to.....Ow! -- pardon me, but I can’t continue --
I suddenly have a terrible headache    --   Hey! --  it worked!”
Only the man unshakably determined (okay, predestined for you people in spiritual lederhosen) to find-his-way-out doesn’t care how he gets out;
it is the pretend, weekend-rebels who fall irretrievably in love with
a particular proposed map of escape  --
who become adoring, satisfied student-prisoners of a system they embrace
whose end is said to be freedom;
nothing amiss here as long as it is recognized as the hobby it be,
(good perhaps for those whose leather breeches keep them out of Nude Vegetarians’ Literary Guild).
    A man dedicated to getting to the bottom of things
lets not any of the things that can and will eventually happen to man affect his goal --
if he does, he will be revealed as merely a weekender in a superior disguise.
The, I-want-to-wake-up-dilettantes have minds programmed to have heroes  --  imagined as supermen – not susceptible to normal physical ills and limitations:
this is ordinary thought’s standard perspective on all areas of men’s
inner-only, other reality (religion, politics, literature, etc),
and as always in that domain, one which will bear no scrutiny,
(which as always, is why men engage in none).
    A question you could profitably consider:
“Do I really want to wake-up (know what is going on),
or do I merely dislike being asleep (my everyday mental condition)? --
am I actually that interested in running,
or am I simply annoyed at being lame in so many areas?” --
and someone asks: “Of what benefit is pondering such matters?”  --
none for the hobbyist, but the true rebel, via such reflections can, in a sense, annoy,
if not, force-by-insulting-inquiry his vaporous, metaphysical aim into an experienced, corporeal reality.
    A real warrior beats up no one but himself  --  and he only does that during
his basic training  --  before he loses his shadow self (the one that complains of headaches, and mentions death).

Everyone has three radios playing constantly at the same time,
each tuned to a different station, broadcasting in a different language,
and in a different time zone;
while ordinary minds do quite satisfactorily under these conditions
the certain man is up on the roof trying to dismantle his antenna.
Amidst general confusion, ordinary people are lost;
amidst a type of self-generated chaos, certain men thrive,
(it’s all according to the: It’s All According Theory, which states that:
“It’s all according.”
[You might in connection note: pandas are born pandas,
some with thoughts of wishing they were something else,
some pleased with what they are, but regardless:
pandas are born pandas and nothing they ever think, wish, or fear will change that,
though some by their natural temperament do not believe it while some others do,
see  --  that is where the: It’s All According Theory comes in.])
    When you have become accustomed (as is the expected) to living amidst the constant playing of three different radio stations (or of them in you, for those of you who
wear your hat  on your feet) the concept of inner-chaos has lost all its meaning;
you do not know whether you are actually being buffeted by external circumstances,
or by ones extant elsewhere, and all attempts by ordinary men
to make such a distinction end in never resolved confusion of the two    --    and now: the great news for the few: there is no two  --

A person who thinks himself superior to anyone else
could not be more common and unexceptional.
 

“Pa pa, is it possible to, talk-down to a man who knows?”
     “You can imagine you are  --  but he is listening-down to you.”
 

The less be the significance of the target, the bigger be the guns brought to bear.
 

And whenever this one god would happen to notice one of his creatures attempting to, think-about-him, he’d say to himself: “How cute.”
(This is the same one who once posed the question: “Why should not a man’s mind be as important to him as a bird’s wings?”  [which, it is said, no one ever responded to, no human that is.])
 

And three guys were strolling along by the river,  just spittin’, kickin’, and jawin’,
and one said: “In some circumstances, seriousness is the only proper response,”
and a second noted; “Sometimes seriousness is the only possible response,”
and the third man added: “Don’t forget death.”
 

And a rebel addressed the collective’s Senate:
“I come not to bury Caesar, but to do so thrice  --
and somebody shut off those damn radios while I’m talking,”
and the host of the show said:
“Okay --  for all the loot, within five minutes spell, ‘concentration’
without once glancing away  --  internally.”