*image by Ben Harubin

 

After exiting the box canyon, he stopped at a water hole to reexamine his travels thus far.
"Okay," said he, "if there are indeed two of me, in me, then they are either my mind and my body, or else two minds, or me and my mind, or else even two me's."
He squatted and sipped some water as he pondered the puzzler he'd just proposed, then arose
to resume his journey, leaving the question open, coming to no decisive conclusion.
(Just as there are no permanent maps, neither are there sacrosanct travel histories.)

Thursday Tattoo:
"I may not be able to change the future,
but at least I've gotten over believing that I can, the past."

There was once a man who believed he was the super of a building,
and he lived on the roof, rather than in the basement. And as he kept
an eye on all the meters and gauges that reflected the state of the building, he believed that without him it could not function and survive. But he was wrong; it could, in fact it did, with his effort contributing nothing of true necessity to the operations, him being (unbeknownst to himself) merely a meter reader and record keeper and not someone whose activity was actually required to keep the building running.

When one man looked at the want ads in his personal funny papers,
he found this notice: "We all have meaningless jobs to do, the only
meaningful effort possible is to realize this."

No matter how much you may enjoy the tune, it's pretty ridiculous to sing
"Dancing In The Dark" once you're alone. I mean, this time, truly alone!

Thoughts live in the land of metaphor regardless of whether they want to or not, and regardless of whether they believe they do or not.
(Being a "stay-at-homer" is not as much the problem as not knowing you are is.)