A father said to a son:
“Another sparkling example of how far removed are man’s ordinary thoughts about what is going on from what is going on is this: while men do not agree on what truth, beauty, god, the right religion or political position are, there is one thing that everyone would agree on, and that is that they know what thoughts are  --
and yet: no one knows what thoughts are; it is all but impossible for ordinary thinking to grasp this, but it is unquestionably correct: no one knows and no one can know
what thoughts are; all men know about thoughts is what their thoughts tell them
about themselves; self identification with no outside confirmation,
or even correlated comment.
Just picture it: man’s single distinguishing feature;
the thing responsible for us not living like animals  --  thoughts (the very core of
our being) and yet: men have no idea what thoughts are.
What an interesting life to be part of, my boy.”
    “Even though men don’t even know what life is either?!”
“Just makes it even more fascinating.”
 
 

If a man does get on the stretch that leads to that certain corner to be turned
by the few, he begins to become uncomfortable with the automatic flow of words
from his mind and tongue;
the quality and content is not the issue,
the cargo is irrelevant,
what is bothersome is its means of delivery.
And one chap muses:
“Based on both the challenge and the outcome: what goes on in the mind of
the man who does turn that corner must be a kind of directed chaos.”
 
 

On Mondays one man would reflect on what it was like to not be his true individual self as he imagined it should be;
then on Tuesdays he would ponder what it might be like to actually be this self;
and on Wednesday he would mull over the price he might be paying by being
a faceless piece in humanity’s herd;
then on Thursday he would ruminate on what might be the pay offs
if he could break free from the collective,
and when Friday came he would hold his breath, awaiting the arrival of the weekend when he could drink & drug and for forty hours imaginarily live out
the week’s worth of thought.
Some might have an uncomplimentary name for this  --
but they would all be drawn from the collective’s dictionary.
Many have dreams of the land of awakening,
but due to the power of dreams  --  they’re satisfied therewith;
only a few unconventional men are born with minds that drive them to seek
the actual experience of going there.
    (“I’ll bet it’s cheaper to dream.”                                                Not to the few.)
 
 

The first voice said:
“Little things mean a lot  --  to little minds,”  to which a second responded:
    “So do stupid things.”
The first voice pondered this for a bit  --  then replied:
“Okay  --  I can live with that,”
(and the thin wall separating the two suddenly had an urge to look up the most comprehensive definition of: agreement.)
    Wind and fire agree,
    as do sodium and chloride;
    islam and judaism don’t because
    you can only throw imaginary rocks at cinderella’s carriage.
 
 

From the Liberated Library Level.
There are only two types of writing: metaphorical fiction,
and unwitting metaphorical fiction.
 
 

What men call the: power-of-coincidence is the fish sticks version of god;
life has men’s minds constantly coming up with such new terms, which is to note that life continues in its struggle to understand and identify itself.
 

Men, Livestock And Romance (A Poetic Reflection).
Men fall in love,
cows fall into ravines -- break their legs -- can’t get out and suffer awfully.
(City Notice: Though sarcasm is not a fitting accessory to the verbal clothing of
human sentiments -- neither is anything else.
[The unrecognized father of the two well known proverbs regarding
fishing and shitting was: “Either fuck or get off the broad!” --  by which its
mystically minded authors subtly pointed to a most subdued mental reality
overlooked by pedestrian poets and philosophers.]
Outlier’s Heads Up:
A rebel who falls into his own words breaks something worse than his legs.)
 
 

More Historical Facts You Can Depend On (Up Until You Hear About Them).
There have been more paeans written to kings than to beggars -- ask yourself: Why?
 
 

In the bazaar:
a man who tells you that things which appear different are actually the same
is to be more trusted than one who tells you that the sale price is only good for today.
 
 

The Technical Facts.
If you never lie down you’ll never die,
and if you never stop fighting the flow you can’t go back to dreaming.
 
 

One man offers this ostensible parenting tip:
“Adults keep describing to kids the nature of adulthood just to lure them into
joining them in their condition.”
(City forces say this is quite proper.........................with no organized counter.)
 
 

Forget the restaurant ads: The World's Greatest Omelette is a rebel's mind.
 
 

Those who sing song in praise of their sex, race, or culture know nothing to
sing about  --  and in fact are singing songs that have no words.
The Medical Facts.
A man who does not see the humor in discovering that his legs must be amputated
has serious problems.
 

Conversation.
“If you will be still and silent and listen carefully
you can hear what it sounds like in the land of the awakened.”
    “I don’t hear anything?!”
“Hey, you did it!”
 
 

On one world there are two distinct classes of creatures:
those who don’t know what they’re doing and talking about,
and the few who know that they don’t know.
 
 

How Mind Works.
Even though priests and psychiatrists don’t know what they’re talking about  --
look at all the good they do.