The purpose of what some throughout history have called man’s state of
open-eyed-sleep is that while you are therein, the conscious part of the brain can maintain its illusion of there being a you inside the body other than it.
For ordinary consciousness to do its routine work in man’s intangible world,
it creates a fiction of a you (me, I) inside of you,
under whose name it then performs its chores.
Being awake is recognizing this situation.
 
 

As long as there is any possibility of you having become a crackpot
you will be concerned about whether or not you are a crackpot.
(The exception to this is of course if you’re a crackpot to begin with.
    [And one more thing: if you're asleep  --  you're a crackpot of some sort.])
 
 

A father said to a son:
“Men talk publicly about what they believe they know for one of three reasons:
to impress their notion of a god (or extraordinarily superior humans),
to impress other men in general,
or to entertain their self.”
    “Can’t it be for the purpose of helping enlighten others?”
“Only amongst the third group.”
    “Don’t guess I need point out this is not what ordinary minds expect to hear.”
“Here! here!”
 
 

Within its own domain: everyone’s consciousness can outsmart everyone else’s.
 
 

Proverb Land Revisited.
In man’s intangible world, every horse introduced therein is a walking dead horse, primed from the outset to be endlessly beaten.
     (“You left out, impotently: endlessly and impotently beaten.”
It's not necessary to add that for those who understand,
and futile to do so for those who don’t.
Everything man creates and places in his non material reality lacks real vitality  –  yet will be flogged with as much vigor as one attempting to spur on an actual steed  --
just in this instance, a dead one.)
Note. Proverbs can tell you a lot  –  if you grab ‘em good  –  hold ‘em up  –
turn ‘em sideways  –  shake ‘em and look intently up their dress.
 
 

Men have available to them physical entertainment (sports, sex, manual games)
and non physical (movies, books, prayer, conversation and thinking),
and from this situation the few have a choice: either the non physical entertainments,
or waking up.
 
 

As long as there is any possibility of you having become a crackpot
you will be concerned about whether or not you are a crackpot.
(The exception to this is of course if you’re a crackpot to begin with.
    “Didn't you do this item already?”
Just checking.)
 
 

The certain man, through certain totally unconventional efforts,
comes to see the conscious part of the brain as a potentially, infinitely wide open field and thoughts as a dirty noisy train composed of an endless line of freight cars
randomly strung together that continually rushes through,
completely destroying the promising field during the time it is in there.
The certain man’s goal is to.........well....... that should be pretty obvious.
 
 

One guy changed his name to an unlisted number.
 
 

A father’s advice to a son concerning intangible nutrition:
“Eat your dessert first  –  but only if you prepared it.”
 
 

One man’s private rail exclamation: “Damn you!  couplers between cars!”
 
 

The conscious part of the brain could fly  –  if it weren’t so much like fly paper.
 
 

Only a man who doesn’t understand what’s going on gets upset because others don’t.
 
 

When you’re not looking at things as per anyone’s agenda,
you can look any where.
 
 

“Wow! –  are there any limits to the benefits of drugs and alcohol?!”
    “No more  than with your mind.”
“Huh?!”
One guy’s nickname for life is: “What the fuck is this?!”
Life’s nickname for one guy is: “Don’t care who you know:
I can still have you bumped off, dirt cheap!”
 
 

One chap pondered:
“What if what you see when you wake-up is funny?”
And his parakeet reminded him that great relief is often followed by laughter.
 
 

As long as there is any possibility of you having become a crackpot
you will be concerned about whether or not you are a crackpot.
(The exception to this is of course if you’re a crackpot to begin with.
    “Your continued repetition of this bit is really beginning to steam me!”)
 
 

The Palace Power Hierarchy.
In the man-who-knows: personality is mostly a ceremonial position.
      “Long live the king  –  the pretender is dead;
        long may he be  –  gone from my head.”
If the nervous system was a railroad track,
the certain man’s consciousness would be a handcar.
 
 

One refurbished ole sorehead begins each day by sticking his head out of
the upstairs window and shouting to life:
“Grab your ankles darlin’  –   I’m on my way!”
(One chap now has trouble distinguishing the consciousness in his brain from life.)
 
 

Graffito found in the alley behind the library:
“The first metaphor is always the hardest.”
(And under that a second hand has inscribed:
“Too bad the subsequent ones can’t recall that initial sensation.”)
Noted the Notable Doctor:
“The trouble all started when adam applied a metaphorical name to the newly arrived voice he heard in his head at a time before men had a word for metaphors  --
and you can imagine what happened from there.”
   (“I don't reckon we have to, now do we!”)
 
 

And another guy changed his name to an unlisted laugh.
 
 

Language.
The conscious part of the brain speaks Neurons,
while the rest of that organ's tongue is Hormones,
and while one can grasp the other, the other can’t the one.
  Reciprocity in some realms remains but a dream.
    Being enlightened is having a totally unnatural understanding of language.
 
 

The conscious part of an ordinary man’s brain attempting to comprehend itself
is like a spider web thinking: “What the hell is holding all this together?!”
For a magician to properly entertain and distract he must make the audience
accept the premise that what he does is serious-business.
(P.S. Those who believe there is a difference between clowns and magicians
will never catch on to what the stage performances of humans are really all about.)
 
 

One fellow looked at his consciousness  –   then looked at DoingTheThing  –
then looked back at consciousness  –   then again at DoingTheThing  –
then back at consciousness  –   then TheThing (and like that).
 
 

For his birthday one ipse dixit intellectual announced:
“What I most desire is a lack of criticism from the dunderheads of the world.”
(They all being friends & family, none present found anything strange in these words,  [or at least they didn’t admit it.])
    “Pa pa: didn’t you once say that the seldom employed, but official name of
Junior Heaven is: ‘They Don’t Admit Nothin’!’?”
 
 

A seditious sarge said to a young trooper:
“In ordinary society, consistency is considered true evidence of one’s civility,
while in rebel society  –   what the hell am I saying!?  –   there IS no rebel-society.
Escapees from prison may stick together  –   but only in their dreams.”
Moss cannot from a stone be separated, nor consciousness from the brain.
    “But you can disconnect a caboose from the train!?!”
Who let you in  --  from out of the rain?
Fact: Those who do not understand words are doomed to repeat them.
    (“Doomed as in: grabbed-by-the-throat-and-strangled-to-distraction?”
Precisely.)
 
 

When you’re not looking at things as per a model from any other man’s mind,
 there is no limit to what you can see.
  The only thing that blinds consciousness is thought;
    the thing that makes consciousness useful in a practical way is thought;
      what keeps it from giving up the secret to the certain man is also thought.