STATE OF MIND There was this man. His mind would expand and contract in the usual manner s

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STATE OF MIND There was this man. His mind would expand and contract in the usual manner so he functioned normally from day to day. He had a job, lived in a three bedroom apartment, was single, and listened to music. "I need a pen," he screamed at himself in the mirror. You see he had this problem. States of consciousness represented floors of a building and his mind was an old, manual, broken-down elevator. Everytime he switched states the elevator would switch floors. From sleep to awareness. From mild conversations to vivid hallucinations and everywhere in-between. He would ride from the bottom to about three floors from the top and then to about a third of the way to the top. The floors were not numbered. They were all relative. The top relative to the bottom. High relative to low. There was no middle. No straddling the fence. The problem was the elevator never exactly reached a floor because it was broken. Not only did the elevator never reach a floor exactly, it never arrived at the same floor at the same place. A little high, a little low, or a little higher than before or a little lower than before. Never in the same place. Usually, when a person changes his state of awareness he returns to the same floor he has been before remembering everything while previously in that state. But what frustrated the man the most was he never reached the exact same state. The exact same place. His memories disappeared like a spark on flash paper. Giant teeth would pierce through and pertrude out of his stomach as people would ask him what he meant or why he did this or that. And since more and more people went to him and he changed more and more, the teeth would increase and would glisten with his blood a he screamed in pain. Finally, people left him and he died from his pain, loneliness, and suffering.


E-Mail Fredric L. Rice / The Skeptic Tank