Conversation Number Sixty One.
“Nothing cuts down on torpidity like death!”
      “One other thing does.”
“Oh yeah --  what?”
      “You just answered it.”
 
 

One man declared:
“Everyone’s educated –
life taught everybody what it wants them to know;

everybody’s a chump --
everyone proves dumber than expected;

life did not tell me to tell you this --
okay  --  then who did?

Everybody’s still a chump  --
even after me telling you that  --  everyone is still a chump!” --
and off in the distance life was heard to say: “I’M not!”

Doctor To Patient: “Just because you can’t breathe is no reason to complain.”
Patient To Himself: “Just because I breathe is no leeway to complain.”
The Rebel To Himself: “Me complaining is why I can’t breathe.”

Life At Borderland.
Customs Official: “Do you have any pedantography?”
Traveler: “Hell, I don’t even have a pedantgraph.”

Whenever he sensed life was telling him something regarding the normal flow of human events, one man always put on the same reaction:  “If you say so.”
 
 

Conversation Number Ninety (Followed By Some Guy’s Round The Campfire Comment).
“Say! --  let me out of here!”
     “I’ve got a better one for you: Say! --  who let you IN here?”

“Yeah, pardner: that’s the great thing ‘bout knowin’ life so personal like:
all them kinda confusin’ questions just go --  Squish! --  right out the winder!
Now hand me my knife:
I got to whittle some more offa myself.”
For the rebel: dying by bits is finally  --   livin’ complete.

The total name of one world is: I Don’t Get It.
“Naw!  --  nuthin’ can be the total anything!”
     Bull’s eye, Durango!  --  now get back to your whittlin’.

A certain sage (of whom history has taken no note)
would reveal marvelous things with his left hand
while poking out eyes with his right.
 
 

In The Great Effort, one man’s determination is such that he swears he will awaken come rain, The Rapture, or a rupture.
(“Am I glad to see me, or is that just a truss holding my mind in?”)
 
 

Said a father to a son: “Two pieces of off-spring oriented advice:
one: never buy an expensive car from a man too quick with the wise cracks,
and two: never buy an expensive car.”
On one world, sons come with a sticker that tells them the things that a well informed father may tell them are never what they sound like they are.
Fact: In the real land of rebels: men only say exactly what they mean.
Fact: There is no such land  --  and if there was,
the people there wouldn’t be saying anything.
And one chap says: “The more I hear and think about the thing you write about here, the more I am getting either: anxious, frightened, excited or annoyed.   Which is it?”
 
 

Supra Story Stretching.
People don’t make up all the non existent stuff in man’s second reality –
it just comes to them  --  in fact: the name of man’s ordinary state of consciousness
could be genuinely labeled: It just comes to me.
 

After initially blinking, and turning his gaze from the direct facing of reality,
man, fearing he had thus lost the ability OF sight,
contrived of the notion of speech  --  to compensate --  if it became necessary.
("Boy! -- did it ever!”)
 

A secret sage (of whom history has nothing to say)
would reveal eye opening things with his left hand
while poking out listeners’ eyes in the process,
(his work was much more expensive than the sage mentioned earlier).
 

A man truly with your best interest in mind never HAS you in mind.
“Would that hold so regarding me in relationship to myself?”
Reminder: it requires two to have dumbness: a teacher and a student.
“I still have my same question (though I suspect you believe you just answered it).”
It takes two to have a meaningless conversation  --  in the outside world  --
AND in the other one.
 

Patient (At Home Alone, By Himself).
“The great thing about having medicine prescribed is that then you can:
take it –
not take it  --
over take it  --
undertake it  --   Gee! --  just like another thing I know.”
(“Say!  --  what other kind of: ‘being-alone’ is there beside: ‘by-yourself?!’”
Again sir, the question:  Who let you IN here?)
 

A certain inner sage (who the man had almost forgotten)
used to tell him wondrous things with his mental tongue
while stopping up his real neural ears with it in the process,
(this particular man [you might care to note] eventually ripped his tongue out).
 

Some people like to hear about this kinda thing FOR the reason that they don’t get it,
(sorta like a run in the bracing cold of the Artic --  without any feet to get chilled).
(“See!  --  now right there’s the real beauty of the human mind,
and that whole other reality it’s created,
for there, even things that don’t make sense and can’t be so can still be enjoyed.”
    “Well.....yeah  --   as long as you never catch on to it.”)