A real-deal-father noted to a son:
“If you’re going to cry in private, you might as well cry in public” --
the kind of thing certainly not appropriate to run of the mill humans.

Treating being alive seriously helps prisoners overlook their captivity.

The Short And The Short Of It.
For the certain man: before he wakes up there is nothing worth talking about
except waking-up;
after he has awakened there is nothing worth talking about.

Only the man-who-knows can truthfully pretend that he doesn’t.

One way to decide if you have the certain man’s type of mind or not
is if you find the funniest thing in the world to be your mind.

True, dyed-in-the-stripes captives like to hang out together regardless of
which prison they call home.

A rule of imminent importance to the would-be escapee is:
Never look where anyone else points.
    (“Hell! --  you might as well read a book!” snorted Captain Halfcooked.)

Seriousness requires an audience, and if necessary  --  it’ll use you.

Prisoners like to keep their eyes pressed up to the little tiny window in their cell door.
(Staring helps pass more time than even Playboy.)

Inner Architecture.
All prisons are upstairs.

The nervous-system-rebel would rather throw something out than fix it.

Escape: Those downstairs can’t, and most upstairs are satisfied to just talk about it.
    “But according to you: it’s just as well.”
When it comes to upper end matters for the rebel: nothing can be left: Just-as-well.

Your body is born in prison  --  but it takes your mind to point it out.

Neurological Update.
No man is smarter than his headache.

Building Code Definitions.
Having preferences in city debates: Mortar for prison walls.

When you’re in the city and feeling a little down  --
tell an anecdote where you’re the butt of something funny that happened.
(And if that doesn’t work, tell one wherein someone else was.)

An expectant woman mused: "Pregnancy is one thing about which no man can make
a metaphorical comparison."  (She better not run into a nervous system rebel.)

Though all names are a form of imprisonment,
a certain kind of renaming can show the way to freedom.
    “Is there anything quite so weird as words!”
And so pliable  --  so agreeable.
   (“Yeah --  once you learn how to get ‘em in a hammerlock.”)

A man who will not favor one leg cannot be properly chained.

One chap says he’s noticed that there is the exact same number of hobbies
as there are people, and wonders if you find this as highly suspicious as he does?
    “Well, I have observed the number of prison cell doors
      match the number of prisoners  --   any connection?!”
Proverb Elaboration.
Even if no man is a peninsula, don’t forget the gaol they built  on Devils’ Island.
On evil days one man will stare at his reflection in a mirror and taunt:
“You’ll --  never get away!”  then laugh demonically in the realization of
the comment’s.....well.....something-or-other.

A large part of institutions’ responsibility is to provide men flawed escape plans.

So thought one fellow:
“The only thing more interesting than hearing someone talk about their life is hearing me talk about mine (or maybe it’s the other way around?!?.........but either way..........)”

Correction To A Previous Story.
A large part of institutions’ responsibility is to provide flawed escape plans
to those who don’t care that they're flawed.

For the real-deal-man, his physical parents aren’t his parents,
but a pair of paid midwives for his real one.
The catchphrase of the conventional mind: “From nothing I came,
and to nothing I’ll return”  --  without noting the same condition in between.
    “Are you implying that in the interim the certain man's consciousness
    does amount to something?”
Who knows?  --  he won’t say.
     “Wait a minute!.............................................................................never mind.”

All normal prisoners take their captivity most seriously;
only the man secretly out-of-there can see it for what it is.
    “Which is?”
He won’t say.

One man was taken aback  --  then left it to his siamese twin to be taken afront.

A struggle for independence that keeps changing, promotes its own independence.
(It’s difficult to escape with a warden hanging around your neck  --
no matter how reliable and well organized he is.)

A bullfrog notes: “A man who will describe his life  --  ain’t got no life!”
    (“What the hell you quoting frogs for?  --  what the fuck do they know!”)

Something misspelled can still (for the rebel) be correctly named.
If you knew for sure what would get you out of here  --  you’d be out.
    “’Be out of here!’--  hell!  --  I don’t even know where I am!”
Now you’re getting somewhere.

A hostile man is a serious man;
a hostile man is a stupid man;
a hostile man is an ordinary, frightened prisoner who must try to appear otherwise
via the hostility.
(This is why all snakes in captivity warn: “Don’t kick me in the leg!”)

One guy does say this much:
“The best thing about being in prison is the same thing that’s so good about
being serious  --  nothing.”

Everyone is also the reflection of their self,
and if you are not the competing image you are then perforce  --  distorted.
In the inner captivity natural to humans:
no man can accurately ascertain precisely what he is.
   (“Is this why prison cells have no mirrors?!”
You mean besides the fun house ones.)

One world became so citified that no one there can become a poet
who’s ever had a pimple.
(On a near by planet it is just the reverse.)

A man with two minds is captive twice.

You can be overwhelmed with quantity, or with quality,
(though no one has ever witnessed the latter event  occurring).
    “Well certainly!  --  ‘cause when it happens  --  a man is never again overwhelmed.”

Question: Can a prisoner be labeled a victim if he is unaware of where he is?

One father’s advice: “Never be impressed by anyone  --
unless they are willfully trying not to seem impressive  --
but if you are aware of this, then they’re failing in their attempt  --
thus there’s no reason to be impressed by them.”

A serious man with two minds is captured twice  --  and then some.

Note: There are no extraordinary births in prison.

Stupidity has a name.

No one feels sympathy for a sourpuss prisoner;
confinement is supposed to give one pleasure                  (if of course you're normal!)

On a somewhat experimental world visas for visitors are good only for as long as
it takes them to fully rummage through some local’s residence  --  top to bottom.
    “Hell,” mused one, “if I could do that I’d've stayed home for my vacation.”