In Re Dreams Of Cleaning Consciousness Of Routine Thought.
Once squirrels are in the attic (which by birth they are in everyone's)
they are there for the duration;
the challenge for the nervous-system-rebel is to open up an area in the attic normally unvisited, which there after becomes where he carries on his primary inner life.
    The ongoing noise of the roof rodents is irrelevant to a man who has finally
    gotten to the bottom of it all.
 

The Certain Man’s Life On The Road.
Those who can refrain from trying to gauge their progress can probably go far.
(Not unlike not rubbernecking the wrecks along the way.)
 

After being of some assistance to an alien force a man was offered a reward:
being able to either give everything he perceived a number, or a name,
and the man replied that he could already do both:
the force pondered this for a bit  –   then said to the man: “Well screw it!” and left.
For the rest of his life the man told and retold the story, adding as its moral
the fact that not everything that happens to a man necessarily has a moral,
(and many, many people were instantly and totally weary of the tale as soon as they heard it).
This again exemplifies the continuing fashion clash between locally bound priests
and philosophers on the one hand, and those outliers who have visited other lands
on the other, in which the former insist there must be some specific purpose to everything that happens in life, while the latter are always dressed for any occasion.
 

While it is not accurate to say that it is thoughts that awaken one,
it is fair to say that it is thoughts that will keep one from awakening.
 

The mediocre and unoriginal tend to find much of what occurs in life as being:
highly uncalled for.
 

After surveying collective man’s lack of interest in the subject one man said to himself: “If I do not undertake the study of consciousness  –  who will?!”
 

The mediocre and unoriginal tend to find much of what occurs in life as being:
most unlikely.
 

On another world: life produced two versions of its conscious creatures:
some who came forth fully completed, able to think and speak plainly and directly,
and others who were born in an inchoate condition with their thought and talk
always slightly askew.
“Hey!” said one synapse to another, “what’s askew?”
    “I don’t know: what’s new with you?”
and them both being local residents they understood that while there is nothing
ever new in the confined conditions of a prison, one must pretend otherwise
to retain a semblance of sanity and normalcy.
    The nervous-system-rebel is the only form of  life which extends its own creation.
 

The mediocre and unoriginal tend to find much of what occurs in life as being:
simply unnecessary.
 

One apparently well experienced gent offers this terpsichorean truism for a Tuesday: “In that ubiquitous city ballroom:
we all dance backwards to some other human’s favorite tune.”
The purpose of ordinary men’s meaningless musings and palaver
is to keep the musing and palaver moving.
(Aka: people could not stay properly asleep did they not relentlessly censure
one another for being so.)
 

The mediocre and unoriginal tend to find much of what occurs in life as being:
beyond all comprehension.
 

Obvious to anyone: at the physical level, to keep a relationship going you must act like the other party still interests you even if they increasingly do not,
but near impossible for ordinary people to grasp is that this also applies to
the operations of their congenital mind.
(“Birds of a feather flocking together”  is not the half of it.)
 

For his obliqueteenth birthday one man gave his son an educational toy:
a neurologically correct doll.
“O! –  let’s peek under Miss Stewart’s scalp!” is an idea that could mean something,

In prison, any idea with staying-power also has (for those anxious to split)

Regarding Serial Lives.
To the rebel bell hent on escape: the first time round in prison is the real redundancy.
 

Concern Amidst The Synapses.
In prison: all family squabbles can only get worse.
(Aka: No matter how he tries to rig the event:
no intangible wrestler can ever adequately pin himself.
[“Hell! –  its crazy enough just getting a hammerlock on your own dude self!”])
“So what does all this suggest?”
    “Either stay out of prisons  –   or families?!?”
 

One man continues to believe he is being held illegally.
 

From the Third Chapter of the unpublished: History Of Man’s Incorporeal Reality.
What goes in must come out  –  but for the fact that what goes in was already out.
Dreams come and go  –  biology is forever.    (Though the normal are doomed to forever deny it.)
Only dumb animals are dumb enough to stand silently
when accused of being an automaton.
(And the tinsel tufted choir began to boisterously sing: “Hooray for Humanwood…”)
 

Even in the midst of physical calamities just thinking about being able to
think about such things is the certain man's infallible release.
 

Three Voice Conversation.
“What could be funnier than being alive!”
    “Being conscious that you are.”
         “Being aware of why it is funny to be alive and conscious that you are.”
 

The illusory light available in prison is only adequate for imaginary reading.
    (“Is that really about consciousness and routine thinking?”)