“Well sure,” said life, “At times I may be harsh, brutal, and demanding, but  --  Hey! --
I make up for it by letting you be just as self-centered, slow witted,
and distracted as you want to be.”
 
 

Only those incurably confined-of-mind can be, intellectually-frightened  --
upset by particular thoughts;
life does not normally allow the herd to entertain ideas that are
disruptive to the collective peace;
the thinking of mankind moves and unfolds in a gradual manner wherein anything new seems to naturally arise from something already established and accepted,
and while salubrious to the species, this arrangement also constructively prohibits
an individual from having ideas revolutionary enough to open his mind’s eyes/I’s
to the true nature of things,
and if you cannot see this................well..........................................................................
Definition by way of an autobahn metaphor:
Independent thinking: being able to drive at unrestricted high speeds
while getting unlimited mileage from your tires, and with nary a fear of a blowout.
Only the mentally blind have cause to worry  --  and then only about blindness -- but!  -- with their general degree of blindness --  they tend not to notice it anyway.
As a meaningless hobby, men often enjoy accusing other men as being,
scared-of-the-truth --  which is not quite it  --  close  --  but not really on point:
it is much simpler than that,
and if you do not see in what way...............well....................................................
 
 

Everyone who speaks as, their spirit moves them is a shill for life
(Hey, there’re worse gigs.)
 
 

Throughout time, life has driven many minds to proclaim:
“The truth shall set you free,” but which is unnecessarily overblown:
anything other than what you now think would do the job (ergo):

The volume and diversity of the incoming and outgoing operations
at one information processing center was such that the workers never had time to become acquainted with one another, much less make new friends
(and if you do not immediately recognize the symbolism of,
“information-processing-center,” and, “new-friends"...................well....................................................)
 
 
 
 

Question: What is sadder than hormones aging?
Answer: letting them tell neurons: “Hey – come join us.”
Note: if you wait on life and circumstances to wake you up,
you will forever oversleep and be terminally late for what you could have seen.
 

To local thinking, the universal always seems just slightly incomprehensible:
either way too complex, or --  disturbingly simple;
to the ordinary thinking, only ideas embraced by a sizable, local segment of
mankind's collective mind seem adequately unchaotic to be of routine, everyday use,
but just below the normally audible level in the brain bubbles
information of a far different sort than usually heard by men;
the certain man (through efforts of his own device) struggles to hear and see
beyond his species’ familiar neural connections and transmissions,
and tune directly into these potential hit sounds, always present and percolating
just under the city’s popular Top 40.
 

What the rebel needs to know to experience the ultimate realization
is not in some secret school, remote monastery, or hidden manuscript,
but in a place even trickier to access
(and if you do not know what this place is...............well.....................................................
[“I wish you stop saying that  --  I feel stupid enough already.”
Okay  --   let’s move on to some Pol. Sci.])
 

People ruled by two kings can never be free;
man’s nervous system  --  culminating in his thought-producing brain  --
is a unified whole,
but which can only be spoken-of, and thought-about when artificially fragmented
into such categories as: conscious & unconscious; purposeful & accidental;
willful & imposed  --
but the main course in this misleading rhetorical city repast is in the brain’s
normal operation of making men believe they say and mean:
“I think so-&-so” --  and the crud de la crud of this feast,
when a person thinks or says words referring to, “MY brain”.
   There was once a telegraph key who could not gain its freedom  --
   for one simple reason: it refused to face the facts.
Any man who knows what he is going to think, or say before he does it is a fool;
all normal men always know what they are going to think and say before they do it --
--  just ask them.
(“I am not a telegraph key!  --   I am a MAN!”   Yeah, yeah, we know --  calm down.
[ask a man who knows what is going on if he knows what he is going to think and say
before he does it, and if he has retained any sense of humor, he will chuckle.])
   A land ruled by twin idiocies can be at least considered (I guess)
   to be in some sort of balance
    (yet another reason the certain man’s mental throne remains empty;
    only mind unaligned & with no allegiance to any particular idea(s) can ever see the promised land;

One prisoner said:
“I no longer care  --
I am inoculated against caring;
I have re-died while here in city confinement,
and have been speciously re-born into a serene state of arrested mental animation;
I am now sans all concern  --
without hope  --
without doubt:
fully grown and finally home;
I am at peace with my ignorance
and no longer care that I have no idea what life is about:
I am now normal: a finished human product, and a full fledged member of the herd.”
(Someone has said that regarding the realm of mind: only the certain man cares,
and someone has further said that: the certain man cares too much
[whoever said the last was either a routine city person, or else someone who knows.])
 
 

P.S. No map is any good that is not, all-over-the-map  --  (all over its own map   --   does this ring a bell?)