Stories
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No bus was in sight. I looked north and saw an assassin heading my way. I looked south and another was coming for me. As they got closer I began to get desperate. I was looking south; I was looking north. I went into the street and began to frantically hitch-hike. The guy from south was abreast. He looked at me and said, "Hope you get your ride man". Then a bus came. Saved by the bus. Of course he was being ironic. He knew I was afraid of him for some reason. Glad he didn't take it seriously.
Obviously this was not a good state of affairs. States of belief in unreality were producing great experience. However at the same time I had to not-believe as well, or risk peril. I needed to believe enough so as to obtain the maximum benefit from the illusion that I was controlling reality, but not enough to act on dangerous invention. I suppose the first thing I had to do was create a character, the unbeliever, the sceptic, agnostic, the guy with the droopy pointed hat.
He was an argumentative fellow for such an old guy, somewhat severe. Always with the other side of the story. His two favorite expressions were: "That ain't true", and "I don't care". Ah - but what a blessing, especially the 'I don't care' part. He is outside it all, of another dimension - "What me worry" ? Easy for him to say. But me I got to think of my body. I have to believe and worry. I tried never to worry that much. Didn't want to be like my worrisome mother. Well actually worry is fear. And I had several encounters with fear, maybe so intense I thought it would better to just get dead.
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