In Re Fear, My Dear.
The rich are afraid of losing their money:
the poor are afraid of the rich;
the intelligent are afraid of losing their mind;
the strong are afraid of the intelligent;
the creative are afraid of losing their talent;
the stupid are afraid of the creative,
and none of them even notice the awakened man,
(who is not afraid of anything, my dearest).
 
 

The reason everyone wants their own talk show is they believe that then
all of their heroes and other famous people would have to come see them.
     “Okay  --  I give: is this also applicable to your own in-head goings on?”
       How can it not be.
                                     Tricky is as tricky does,
                                     and tricky is the horse that rides the rebel.
 
 

The more you think that your dick drags the ground
the more do you feel that life treads thereon.
    “Sounds like the thing to do is just not think about your dick,
    (which I’m assuming represents something else in your comment).”
 
 

One man says:
“While I do not consider myself totally awake, I must admit there is still one thing
that frightens me: the possibility that everyone on the planet is wide awake but me, and that everything they do and say that bothers me, and makes me believe that
they are asleep, is an act solely for my benefit; to see how I will react.
This literally could be so  --  and how would I ever know!”
(Let you in on a secret: this notion does not really upset him:
he actually enjoys running through his mind the possibility that things could be so,
and that he was able to think of it...........[but, hey!  --  if you’re even half hip to what’s
going on  --  what choice do you have but to enjoy everything you come to realize?!])
 
 

A son inquired of a father:
“In this business of trying to become something in your nervous system
other than you were born as:
does a time ever come like in the routine world, when you need to retire (so to speak) and let a new generation take over from your older one?”
    A man-who-knows is positioned toward his nervous system
    as is the latest shed skin to a fashion conscious snake.
 
 

And speaking of business matters:
after carefully examining the potential costs of trying to change your overall
mental state compared to staying like you came as, one man concluded:
“The numbers don’t make sense.”
The choices that drive the nervous system rebel are not just totally different from
those embraced by ordinary men  --  they are unknown to them.
 
 

Thought a hawk who lived among eagles,
(and understood them better than they did themselves):
“The shortfall of being famous is in considering the kind of people
you would be famous to.”
(What he seems to be saying is that it is hard to be impressed by
being taken as impressive by people who don't impress you.)
    “Sounds like that would exclude every man who ever woke up.”
You’d think so.
 
 

What goes on in the head of a man-who-knows-what-is-going-on
is  further removed from ordinary men’s mental activity than are their most
fantastic notions of science fiction from their everyday reality.
 
 

Trial Update.
Life is gathering evidence on everybody.
 
 

 Strange --  Even In The Rebel World.
It is possible that the best man to inspire you out of a house afire
is a man still trapped therein.
 
 

Everybody has a voice in their head besides the one men call their thoughts,
but only a few pay it heed:
they are the ones who struggle to stabilize their mind amidst a mass distraction
of which everyone else feigns ignorance.
 
 

How Simple Can It Be.
There’s a whole bunch of things that men can’t figure out for the simple reason that there is nothing there to be  figured out  --  nothing  --  literally.

Q: Who for certain is not awake?
A: Any who insist they are.
    (“Now that’s what I call simple.”)
 
 

Everybody goes with the ups-&-downs:
most complain about it:
some insist they do so willfully,
but roller coaster barons don’t talk business.
 
 

Discussing your life as opposed to just living it
is the same thing those asleep do in mentioning and whining about their condition.
In QuadraWorld: a skunk don’t stink ‘til he comments on having smelled himself.
 
 

One guy had a thought: “I’d tell everyone how to wake-up!  --
if I could talk about it without I start whining......but hell, if I could do that I’d BE awake.”
One guy had a thought.
 
 

Definition.
Civilization minus collective thinking: Eden sans snakes.
(There is [it might be noted]  an alternative version of this historic interlude
described as: “A paradise of  the snakes  --  for the snakes  --  and by the snakes.”)
Further dictum: In a land where it’s: “Reptiles, reptiles: all is reptiles,”
notions of opposition and intrigue (as in the original story)
become as irrelevant as last years’ shed skin.
 
 

Neural Investor’s Report.
The market for second hand ideas remains spotty.
(Those interested in previously traded thoughts can stay tuned for further updates       concerning this area.....unless you have something better to do......and if you don’t  --  --  then get something.)
 
 

Since man’s entire intellectual world is of his own making:
what book need he but a dictionary.
    “Sir!  The implications of this are totally unacceptable;
      I must, out-of-hand, refuse to think about it any further.”