The Word

Whenever he would hear voices coming from the cadaver room, one mortician would often muse: “What is more boring than the dead talking.”

Whenever his mind would get close to that certain inner place unique to The Few, one man would think:  “I’m about to have a HAPPY FIT!  And praise be to Mergatroid – I can’t stop it!”

Armchair adventurers believe they want to Discover the Truth, while those actually out there doing the grunt work end up trying to dig up their own nature. (They ultimately become special archeologists, digging into nothing – seeking the non-existent.)

A man’s person and past has no parents,
just as his parents had none, (and so on back and back).

Only the ordinary know, “Where they came from,”  “How they ended up where they are today,” and overall , “What their story is!”

A man who has stumbled-on to what is going-on is privy to no such thing.  He has uncovered the nature-of-nature, and looked head on into the blank, all revealing face of his own physique and temperament; seeing right clear thru it, back into the empty origins of everything: everything that is OF MIND.

Achieving this is called by some, “Getting A Cab In The Rain.”
(And by a few others: “Enlightenment,” I believe is the word.)


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