A historically common comment: 
”We humans have lost touch with our place in nature.”
Question: How can any creature be free of nature? 
Whatever men do, (such as making the above statement), 
they do because nature made them do it. 
Men carp about losing touch with nature for the very reason that they haven’t, and can’t. (A safety valve.)
 

Anyone who tells you “what’s wrong” doesn’t know shit,
and this applies to what your own thoughts tell you 
is wrong.
There is nothing to be gained by hearing someone tell you how things are wrong;
only listen to someone who tells you how things are.
(And you must get past thinking that something is “wrong” about the people who say that things are wrong;
it’s just their nature to do so  --   so,
don’t let it be yours to be bothered by it.
[Zoological Inside: Lions didn’t start out eating hyenas because of how good they tasted -- 
but because of how annoying they were.
When one man would call himself to come dine on man’s regular mental fare --  he’d pretend he didn’t hear him.])
 
 
 
 

      Never listen to anyone dumber than you  --   and,
           never listen to anyone smarter than you.
                                             Got it?
 
 
 
 

When you’re pissed, you’re blind, 
when you’re frightened, you’re deaf,
and when you’re sad, you have no taste.
Emotions screw up the senses;
emotions make the senses work.
On one world they experimented with having supers
abandon their basements, and move to the penthouses,
leaving the latter’s know-it-all-tenants to 
fend for themselves.
(They at first threw themselves on the mercy of their
previously dismissed emotions, who,
[surprisingly enough], took them right in.
[as if either of them had any choice in the matter!])
Moral: It is easy to “do the right thing” 
when you have no alternative.
Fact: Ordinary people have no choice but to 
pretend to not know what is going on. 
Fact: Those who finally see thru the smoke & ventriloquism
have no alternative:
they either accomplish it, or else their head swells up
real big and bursts, and their cable goes out permanently.
 
 

No man gets to choose his nature, 
physique, or temperament,
but a few --  post natally  --  try.
Their friends & neighbors tell them it is futile,
(their own nature forces them to),
but because of their own temperament -- the few still do.

Hint: There is more, unknown fun available in the penthouse than even a drummer on acid, 
or philosopher on tenure can begin to imagine.
Main thing you have to do to gain access thereto
is to stop trying to wrassle with your own nature;
it is not that you cannot overcome it,
it is that you cannot even wrassle with it;
whatever it is that you believe you are doing
is just it tusslin’ and foolin’ around with itself.
Haven’t you ever been just the least bit suspicious of the whole affair?
   “Yes, I hate me, and simply ADORE doing so.”
    That is the unspeakable, real name of  THAT game.
  
 
 
 
 
 

Whenever he would hear voices coming from the
cadaver room, one mortician would often muse:
  ”What is more boring than the dead talking.”
 
 
 
 
 
 

Whenever his mind would get close to that 
certain inner place  -- unique to The Few, 
one man would think:
”I’m about to have a HAPPY FIT!
And praise be to Mergatroid  --  I can’t stop it!”
 
 
 
 
 
 

Arm chair adventurers believe they want to --
--  Discover The Truth,
while those actually out there doing the grunt work
end up trying to dig up their nature;
they ultimately become special archeologists,
digging into nothing --  seeking the non existent.
A man’s person & past has no parents,
just as his parents had none, (and so on back).
Only the ordinary know, “Where they came from,”
”How they ended up where they are today,” 
and overall --  “What their story is!”
A man who has stumbled-on  --  to what is going-on
is privy to no such;
he has uncovered the nature-of-nature,
and looked head on into the blank, all revealing face of 
his own physique & temperament,
seeing right clear thru it, back into the empty origins of everything  --  everything that is --  OF MIND.

Achieving this is called by some: 
            “Getting A Cab In The Rain.”
              …(And by a few others: “Enlightenment,” 
                             [I believe is the word].)


                                              J