As a private form of consolation when his ideas are apparently discredited,
one man will say to himself: “Well at least everybody can’t be right,”
which just highlights his density inasmuch as that is precisely the case --
but he has never realized this and thus been able to reap its benefits.
Fact.
If your thoughts regarding the intangible matters that so intrigue man  --  won’t fly,
you simply don’t grasp the elementary nature of non existent planes,
and imaginary air space;
all you have to do is recognize where you are,
then you can whisper any old thing in Isolde’s ear and she’ll buy it,
(but be clear about this): if you never understand where city life is being played out, you’ll die believing that she, Odin, Allah & the ghost of your grandmother
can tell when you’re lying to them.
The Great Unheralded Mortal Hoot is in the fact that nothing can trick your body,
and nothing but your own thoughts, your mind.
    (“That’s not funny.”)
 

How Mind Can (If Not Closely Watched) Work.
Though he’s yet to move to Hollywood, or get an agent,
one guy has already decided that his best chance for success in show business
is in being a celebrity look alike, and to simplify matters he’s decided to
first become famous on his own so that he will have someone easy to pass for.
    (“We should all be thankful this story is confined to some star struck stooge,
       and not everyday people like us!”)
 

The Poetic Side Of Life (Well  --  Of Some People’s).
Only the most deeply dedicated of prisoners write odes to captivity.
Those in captivity are not given to biting the hand that restrains them.
 

Rumor Of The Day.
Most people who wake up to what is really going on are (to say the least)
surprised  by what they thereby discover.
 

Neurons can think  --  hormones can act;
hormones can kill  --  and thinking make you wish you were dead.
 

When it reaches the point where there’s nothing to do next --
it certainly is easy to follow up on it.
 

Attached to a leash a man found laying in the street was this note:
“In life you must make a choice for best friend:
either your hormones, or your thoughts,”
and as he was standing there pondering these words,
he was bit viciously on the ass by two fraudulently domesticated timber wolves,
and a psychiatrist muttering: “Don’t you believe it!    Don’t you believe it!”
Only priests perfectly normal and mullahs with mad cow disease
tell men that parts of them are not their friend.
    (“But life must surely have some greater purpose for itself in this --
      --  wouldn’t you think!”
Undoubtedly --  but with six billion other people to do this though,
why should little old insignificant you have to be part of it.)
Fact: There are some things that men suffer in life only if they don’t see the situation for what it is.                  (Okay: for the few: not some things, but all the things.)
 

Anyone who tells another person (regarding events in their life):
“Let that be a lesson to you,”
have more themselves to learn than one lifetime can afford.
    (“You’re right about that!  --   I’m so dumb in conducting my own business
        that I can’t be taking anyone else on.”)
Only those who imagine themselves drowning in the sea of make-believe
are fascinated by the idea of saving others around them in a similar fix.
At the alternative: Rebel Roman Games the by word was:
“Let the forces who condemned you --  save you!” (on the first and third Sundays;
on the second and fourth it was): “Let the forces who save you  --  condemn you,”
which gave the people the rest of the month to figure out exactly what this meant.
 

Most prisoners are too dazed to grasp their position  --
thus their love of discussing futile escape plans.
(Aka: If you don’t know your illness  --  any old snake oil will do.
    “How about this: If you don’t know how distracted you are  --
      any enlightening knowledge is okay?”)
 

To one part of his mind a man declared:
“I’ll thank you to mind your own business,” and before it could respond,
the voice of his brain stem came over the in-store p.a. system asking:
“Does one’s partner actually have any business of its own?”
 

Bumper sticker seen on bicycle laying beside the road:
“When Neural Cloning Is Outlawed; Only Outlaws Will Know Why.”
 

In the city, one man said: “I can’t take it any more!”  –  and he was right;
down the street another fellow said: “I can’t take it any more!” --  and he was incorrect,  question: How do you know who to believe in that crowd?!
In places with alternate, off shore realities, if workers become too rowdy
the CEO of the city can pink slip everybody.
The move toward inner independence is via unrelenting, private rowdiness.
Philosophies --  prisons; individual thinking  --  keys.
    (“Is there nothing you can believe in that won’t harm you?”
If you’re a woodchuck.
       “You forgot to throw in: ‘Of the stay-at-home variety.’”)
 

In the animal world there is no talk of freedom,
while in the human there is  --  just as a joke!
 

In a motorcycle garage  --  scrawled on the wall:
“If You Don’t USE Metaphors They Can’t MIS-Use You!”
(Riding quickly to your death is not as easy as it once was.                [According to some.])
 

In so far as the maps seen in the certain man’s mind:
There are places in the universe that aren't IN the universe.
    (“Is that why if you can request a ticket to there  --
       that’s not the place you’re really wanting to go?!”)
For those obscure patients with that special Sleeping Sickness:
The physician who so diagnosed you (be he human, or words from a book)
was the source of yours  -- in conjunction with: The diagnosis sounding correct to you.
The nascent nervous-system-rebel doesn’t know his situation,
(neither his predicament, nor possibility of escape) until he has words for it --
he feels it from birth  --  but only when he hears someone else’s description of it
does it become tangible enough in his mind to do something about.