In the book, “World Renowned Authors and Composers,” one man found listed, the son he never had.
In any manner even remotely meeting man’s definitions:
Only the life of life is free, creative and conscious.
In the final moments of that particular go ‘round of local reality, life admitted to some of the creatures it’s taught to think, “Jeeze, you know, I didn’t know you guys were gonna take it all so seriously!”
When a man becomes conscious of life itself being alive, and of this universe being beyond finite dimensions, he then sees that there is no way out, and his perception of what constitutes captivity is forever radically redefined.
In the light, (if not glare), of consciousness one man’s mind said:
“I’ve forgotten more than I will ever know.”
And consciousness responded: “You can say that again.”
And the mind replied: “Say what again.”
Standing up on a hilltop, a kid looked out and in, and said:
“If thoughts are like rain drops,
And consciousness the sky,
There is no debate – I gotta fly.”