Ordinary thought is, shit, just clichés.

Ordinary thought only goes to clichés . Rachel remembers someone who died on 9/11, and besides deep feelings and sensations, she must talk about meanings, implied or explicit - but there IS NO MEANING in outside things, NONE. They just occur like raindrops falling on your head.

This is why the very idea of a "Bible" or "Holy Writ", is unthinkable, and thus unwritable, and thus unreadable - which is an interesting word here, because it is un-read-able for two reasons: 1) it was written, and 2) it is in a different, unknown language.

Everything that comes out your mouth, regarding "What is going on" or "What it is all about" comes in the form of cliché, somebody has already said it before.

Extra-ordinary, higher thought from a tighter web of knowledge and understanding, like sparks in a night sky, compose the IMAGE of the mechanics being driven.

When people suit up and be there - anywhere at any time - the physical surroundings morphing around them, is no more meaningful than a game of pool and raindrops. The 'dots' they leave on the surface of reality, being perceived by a brain that can neuralize them into an IMAGE, becomes something that can be remembered and talked about.

Everything leaves an impact upon the senses, but talking/thinking about the physical world is not consciousness. It is the absence of consciousness because thought is an automatic function of bloodflow in the head, like an electrical rainstorm behind your eyes, and for your ears (i.e. y'ears).

The 'so-believed' outside cooks the flesh from the outside, while the heart stirs it from the inside. Each human body is self-contained (and self-constrained) cosmic vehicle, of unknown design and purpose. There is no 'meaning' to the music of the raindrops falling on your head, but it does change/alter the vehicle, turning it INTO that destined magic carpet.

Talking for the masses who remain glued to this planet, where their vehicle returns to dust 6ft underground or up in smoke. Cliches are all you've GOT FOLKS, and the only mystical use of thought is as lubricant easing the refined wheels and gears and pullies and pumps into their MEANINGFUL proper alignment. Such a vehicle is capable of more amazing things than David Blaine or Cris Angel can imagine. But it IS in that arena where the mystical meets the Meat.

Interesting thought 'pumps us up' the way a deep inhale of air does. Ordinary thought that dribbles out your lips and fingers, is the exalation, resulting from the burning of the 'deep thought' that started it all (when Life spoke directly into your ear, and whispered the Secret).

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There is nothing wrong with the ordinary mind being used exclusively for building and maintaining the physical world, all of which eventually impacts your nervous system. However, then there is nothing left with which to lubricate the internals of this combustion engine designed to travel through space and time, spacetime.

this is why you can't TELL somebody how to put their vehicle together or how to drive - only YOU can know that for yourself. The extra-ordinary thought of which I always speak, is not 'verbalized', is not 'Englished', but it lubricates the wiring diagram of your nervous system, the way a Master plays the piano or cello. The Telling is the Travelling, and you're already somewhere else by the time anyone might hear it.