There is a thing run by a wound-up spring. When the tension is spent, the thing is done in. The speed at which it runs down is determined by a gauge. Wanna know what it is, (say, yes). “Yes!” The thing that said yes.
When you talk to an ordinary man, his thoughts about you, (as you speak), are so agitated as he listens, that when your words echo back to you from him, they have been much distorted by the constant moving of his mind. Thus you fail to learn the secret that you should about your mind. Being able to avoid this is the only reason to speak to a man who-knows.
Anyone determined that the verbal-based, second reality game, as played by ordinary men must and can make sense; be rational, consistent and non-ironic, are loony as beer ticks. They are insane, nuts, crazy, blind and out of their so-called minds. Who but an imbecile expects eggs from a horse or brass from a chemical equation?!
The most comfortable way to keep yourself in that coma, is by talking about your particular form of it.
One day a man read from a certain book and enjoyed it much. The next day he read from it again but did not enjoy it. Did the book change or did the man? And either way: does this make any sense to you?
J.