Un-erase the face of notion

Are we sinners, dreamers or just straight up losers? If you’re reading this, it’s because you’re currently sitting on the sweaty and washed out leather seat of the PSC (If reference has failed to be transmitted into your impeccable human brain genome, read first post.) In continuation, to further unravel the stories of a once wide-eyed blind serpent… we must acknowledge that the “mind” is a being of its own. It once was, as our dear Merriam Webster would say, “The organized conscious adaptive mental activity of an organism”. Pause a minute… I omitted a word from the definition, can you guess what? Of course not. I would have never known -well, not until recently- that “unconscious” is the hidden next door neighbour of “and” in the definition. Oh, wait…There’s no “and” in there. That’s exactly my point. There is, but you obviously can’t see it without going to the direct source of the definition. The mind plays tricks, if you didn’t already know. Yet, I have a different theory. What if -hypothetically speaking of course- our brain was somehow wired to omit certain parts of it. Take the map of a small town, for example. You feel so powerful holding the map, automatically believing as if you have been shown everything that exists in that picket-fenced suburbia. Yet, just between the Sheriff’s office, the ice cream parlour, and the Gemini forest… there lies the house of old man Norman. People know it’s there, well at least they think it’s there. Then again, they never see it, or maybe they do in impromptu thoughts that end with the blink of an eye. To find Norman’s house -the mind- is a long, arduous quest…each step gets you farther than the last. cityunivnewyork_fullYou need to quit searching and start pointing the telescope to those erased words that have always been there. Very few know of the existence of this infinite library of the “unconscious“. Yet, maybe, those “very few” are the only ones who are allowed in. However, just because you were lucky enough to go from one side of the hourglass to the other doesn’t mean you’ve somehow achieved something astonishing like the manipulation of time. No, the real admission ticket shall be awarded to that being who achieves to pick up the pen of invisible-ink only then, shall the blind acquire sight, and shall, much like the serpent, shed the bright skin and slither into the mindfulness of the dark cave.





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