On everyone’s introduction to city life the tour guides gush:
“Boy oh boy!  --  we’re going to have some fun now!”
(It seems good to clue pack animals before hand of how they will feel toward
a new, upcoming event.)
    “Hey! --  they give milk and mucilage --  what else do you want?!"
 

The collective are urged to pretend that there is constantly something to be
excited about  --  even when there’s not;
the neural individual enjoys his physical, instinctive activities, but reserves being excited for what he personally stirs up intangibly in himself.
What sky diving, cliff climbing and the like do for ordinary men,
struggling to awake does for the few,
(but in a manner unknown to them that would take their breath fully away).
    “Which I guess is its purpose, no?!”
Fact: Trying to explain why you like to jump off of high accordions
takes away its core joy.
    “Which I bet is why: talking-about-yourself ruins you being your self, no?!”
Fact: What is true for the few is meaningless to everyone else,
and it is of specific benefit for them to realize this as quickly as possible
so that they do not waste their upper level, nervous system energy on believing that they are properly upset by others’ disinterest in their specialized undertaking.
    What are valid stories for the few determined to get to the bottom of being human
    are the myths and metaphors of weekend dilettantes.
 

In the city men are permitted to pay in advance for info they never receive.
(Okay: for info they’re incapable of realizing has been made available to them.)

What the city does demand as payment from men for the things it promises
perforce makes everyone’s mental-check bounce.
(This being the unrecognized source of all men’s civil discomfort.)
 

Discovering your own tricks to staying focused is like learning how to withdraw
all your funds in a routine urban transaction without ever disturbing your principal.
 

There is always someone who sees the fallacy in your argument  --  always;
as long as you are alive  --  life is alive, and the mind of man rolls on  --   (somewhere).
If we lived in a better allegorical reality: when Adam first heard the supernatural voice asking him questions about himself  --  he would have never replied.
In defending his intangible self, a would-be nervous system rebel
effectively keeps himself from ever developing a real, individual one.
    “Is this the way life wants it?”
This is the way life has it.
 

Eventually: all calves like what their mama liked,
and each cow’s taste ultimately reflects that of the herd,
which receives its marching orders from a source it can but dream about.
(Note: One function of the city is to morph these dreams into pseudo facts.)
In a surprising move, one man up and said:
“It just hit me: the best example of me I’ve ever seen is the city itself.”
Men alone of all life forms known have the dual feature of existing within a
perceived, detached environment, and having created within them, the perception.
    “So it is an inescapable loop?!”
Seems so from any city perspective.
Fact: Even if your source of confinement is imaginary,
when you are trapped therein  --  it makes no difference.
    “So now that I’ve heard that: why doesn’t it set me free?”
While you are in the city’s illusory prison, everything you hear is in jailbird lingo;
someone outside could shout: “Freedom this way!” --  but ears accustomed to
man’s natural captivity would hear: “Danger! -- avoid at all costs!”
Though it be impossible to see from within the neural gaol:
life does not step on its own dick (arranging the mortal scene so that men may/can/must believe they do so).
    “Why would life do this?”
Why do you not make the feasible effort to step outside your cell,
and see the answer for yourself?
    “How should I know.”

A man sitting in the rain on a city park bench, wiped his face and said to a stopped, soggy pigeon: “As long as kings want to be poets, and warriors, philosophers,
I suppose we’re in no worse shape than any other dime-a-dancer with arthritis.”
(Wondered the bird: “Do humans still attribute melancholy to inclement weather?”)
 

One day, after calling himself all together mentally,
a man scrupulously surveyed the scene..........then said:
“I was going to use this opportunity to apologize to you all for the past I created for us,  but after having a good look at who showed up I’ve decided  --  to hell with it!”
 

The man who catches on to what’s going on absorbs his own kin  --
as they already have him;
the mountains become indistinguishable from the environment,
neurons from hormones,
imaginary reality from any other kind,
at which point you are home again  --  just like you were back before
Adam and the voice in your brain caused you to think you weren’t.