The explanation: “I did not intend that result,” regarding one’s speech or behavior
is never acceptable for the special-investigator attempting to crack-the-case,
though such expressions are not morally or legally prohibited
and are in fact the social norm, they are for the few a compounding of an inter-circuitry felony; your Yellow Circuit  portrays the lower ones as acting out of order and leaving it (the only one with a voice) to explain the missteps  –  and it’s not fair (says the mind): “This is not the result I intended.”
A dependable indication of a man’s fondness for staying at home besnoozed
is how commonly he has this experience.
   (“And yet: awaking-from-the-dream still does not assure that everything in your
      life turns out as you intended, no?!”
Si, for once your inner eyes fully open you are no longer the you who had such intentions.
Once for a brief time, a tale was told of Shangri La chasing down those who were seeking it, rather than making them find it.
    “Pa pa: when you understand how the inner world works,
      is there anything you then can’t make it do?”
“Only the man-who-knows, knows.”
(P.S. The only Court Of Appeal available to the outlier lies in his own determination never to reexamine a previous case;
in his personal, inner halls-of-justice no excuse can live.)
 
 
 

Regardless of the baffling -- even frightening -- impression it sometimes has on ordinary minds, TheThing/The Great Inquiry/The Grand Adventure is in fact a
goodly endeavor, though the word goodly being a term technically limited to tomorrow; for even though growth is goodly, ordinary men’s perception thereof remains forever a day behind, ergo the few’s continual struggle to make it real today tends to disturb standard eyes.

    If it’s good for Life, it’s good for awakening,
    and if it's good for awakening, it’s good for Life.
     (Deals don’t come any sweeter than that        [‘cept maybe to a fat man in a detroit poolhall.])
 
 
 
 

No one truly feels they know who they are until they say who they are --  which then  creates an entanglement from which ordinary men never recover.
 
 
 

ThisActivity can strike a man to be like the planning and construction of some off-the-chart, omni-directional space flight which seems coldly overwhelming
in complexity and with a vague destination unimaginably distant,
yet if pursued properly by the few it later reveals a welcoming nature of simplicity whose objective is actually surprisingly close.
 
 
 

Just as a real physical man will have sex at least once with any woman who arouses him, the real metaphysical man will have intercourse at least once with any idea that stimulates him.
 
 
 

Although the son continually reminded his self of what his father had so frequently said regarding TheActivity not being a critic of man, he still could not shake a vague sensation at times of being a target in search of an arrow.
(He would then remember to look at the tattoo the old man had burned on his ankle:
“If you feel the feeling’s wrong  –  it is.”)
Thus of all the great planetary creatures, only the Mighty Balloon Falcon fully grasps all that is right and all that is not  –  for he is empty.
   Little worms want to grow up to be full of worm,
   a select few falcons want to eventually unload themselves of their self.
“Just because I was born this way doesn’t mean I have to remain this way.”
    “Yes it does.”
“Okay: just because I was born this way doesn’t mean I have to keep talking about it.”
    “With most people it does –  maybe for you the other possibility is worth
      checking out; could be a sign of something.”
 
 
 
 
 

Words are as blood to the Yellow Circuit; food for the mind, and the special chef supporting the Supreme Safari must take ultimate responsibility for this area of nourishment, same as a routine cook would oversee the intake of fit physical food
in the lower circuits.
It becomes not so much a matter of selecting certain items for the repast but in realizing how little of one is needed.
The body certainly cannot live on words alone, and neither can the mind
(unless you’re a nervous-system outlier and all the words are yours).

Perspective & Standard Sight.
If an idea doesn’t have a particular slant to it, it will be too glaring for ordinary eyes/I’s to make sense of.
 
 
 

It is not uncommon to hear a man say: “We must all row the boat we have,”
which overlooks the possibility of trading in your oars for an outboard motor.

             Heard singing behind the house:
            “What makes me so doggone happy’s
             havin’ part of my brain still call me pappy.”
 
 
 

No system can fully fathom its origins; no people can know their true homeland;
this is why none of man’s mythologies can ever describe the fountainhead of the gods and creation, and on a more personal level: the reason the rebel should investigate
the source of your thoughts.
Note: Only city detectives believe that they must find a clue to have found-a-clue.
    (“The case grows constantly hotter and more interesting Dr. Shrimlock,
        since every day there are fewer and fewer clues.”)
 
 
 

In a setting where everything moves simultaneously and omni-directionally,
some things move too quickly and others too slowly to be by ordinary consciousness perceived; the cure for this is not improved technology but refined awareness.
 
 
 

It is incorrect to say that certain behavior is emotional, or intellectual as opposed to
any other alternative, in that none of man’s individual circuits are the source of their own actions;
everything that men say, think and do are the acts of Life;
but as the train rolls on some children like to jerk their closed fist up and down
as though they are blowing the whistle and causing the thing to move.
 
 
 

Life allows men to do almost anything.
 
 
 

Anything that any man is made to say is true, is true from some view within the full situation of Life in this Universe, and this includes views that may strike your present state of consciousness as slanderous, distorted, even dangerous, but from the outlier’s greater perspective, no ideas men can conceive of are any more confusing or disruptive than is the process of Life’s growth.
You can identify with certainty those who do not understand this process:
they are the ones who publicly profess to do so.
    (“I am an expert!   I was the time of departure for yesterday’s three o’clock train.”)
The reason a man who has cracked the case is never recognized as the world’s greatest authority on everything is because he becomes un-seeable  –
just like the growth process of Life.
 
 
 

Has been claimed that man often attempts-too-much-too-soon  –  but so does Life, having at times to back up a bit and re-group in preparation for yet another
run-at-tomorrow.
Humans are along for the ride, but few ever experience the exhilarating
and eye popping experience of riding in the on-top, observation car.
 
 
 

After hearing the term: the-life-of-Life, one chap pondered:
“What does Life do for a living?”  –  Life LIVES for a living  –  what about you?
 
 
 

All real change comes at a cost:
many stare dreamily at the merchandise
while smiling warily at the apparent price,
(and might here be noted more of the fantastic possibilities for the few of there being no first-of-the-month, and of turning debits into credits so that your mastercard
of consciousness always shows a positive balance, since you now get all your goods from only you).
    “I know of nothing greater than being without debt!”
“How about: being enlightened.”
    “Same thing.”
 
 
 

Some mortal pundit once opined: “The winds and tides are always on the side of the ablest navigator”  –  which sounds fine –  unless you take into account the fact that
man has no idea where the hell he’s going.                                  (So Much For Truisms: Part 7.)
 
 

Never forget that those who tell you that you’re-too-smart-for-your-own-good
really mean that you’ve been too smart for their own good.

Never accept the notion that you-can’t-go-home-again  –   sure you can,
(assuming they haven’t discovered what you stole last time you were there).

Never ignore the possibility that everything ever said about everything is true.

Never: look-down, look-down, that-lonesome-road,
not if you’re trying to avoid having to carry-on.

Never forget that the children-of-today were mostly the accidents-of-yesterday.

Never when hangin’ out with your trashy relatives in Alabama,
use a refrigerator for target practice while it is still in use.

Never back-him-in-a-corner and try to get a large, angry fight manager to admit
that his boy’s a bum.

Never borrow someone else’s ideas  –  unadorned theft is much cleaner.

Never bypass the fact that you too can pronounce: faux pas as: fox pass
IF you know-the-secret.

Never attempt to repair a kidney tear with duct tape.

Never, even as a joke, refer to a member of the judiciary as a sitting-duck
rather than a sitting-judge.

Never serve those cute little fruity-drinks with umbrellas to guests who
came to the party in ox carts.

Never get all in a dither if some group asks you to say-a-few-words at their meeting; just say a few words, it doesn’t really matter what you say, (you’ll see).

Never, when you hear a famous person drone on and on about how they still
live in a small town, neglect to feel sympathy for the town.

Never believe that appearances-are-deceiving;
appearances are not features of things seen, but of sight itself.

Never hesitate to buy OR sell when the jig’s up.

Never expect graduate credit for a course titled: Disremembered History.

Never enroll a nervous child in a preschool that employs an early morning approach
of jump-starting their little brains with truck batteries.

Never pay much attention to people who say: “No need to be crude,”
when what they mean is: No need to be truthful, or personal.

Never share a toothpick with a moose.

Never smile-and-say “Cheese!” unless being swindled by a man named Kraft.

Never just up-&-take-off down the Amazon without at least notifying the Coast Guard, (and never just up-&-take-on new thoughts without first warning your old ones).

Never get too expectant over the possible rewards of soul-searching
until you’ve determined you actually have something to rummage through.

Never back into a bar during happy hour at a convention of proctologists.