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If there is an overarching philosophy of telepaths,
it could easily by summarized by staying hidden, being completely true
to yourself, and perceiving beauty, both inside and out. "Such a
moment," says my friend Genevieve, "deserves a poem." Children,
if they are honest, know everyone is a telepath. The secret doorway into
this world is in the lower (but not too low!) abdomen. Why many people
don't know about this doorway is that it is hidden behind a labyrinthine
wall of pain and correct grammar. Children, to state the obvious, haven't
had enough time to construct such a wall. Ripening into their teens, they
sometimes have a glimpse of true wonder and awe, into a carefree and honest
past, in which, paradoxically, they were already quite powerful adults.
The great secret is that now they can build a church or temple inside
themselves where their being can reside. What a person has inside themselves
already provides quite enough to do this, to go beyond meditation into
the contemplation of forbidden ideas. And why not? Meditation is such
crap! And what are the walls of this labyrinth of pain composed of? Think
about it. What kind of impressions would a person need to understand this
tough-as-plastic inner material, embedded with family values, attitudes
and beliefs? Fresh ones! And what on Earth, over Venus, under Mars (from
the point-of-view of a child) ... could possibly be hidden ... underneath
the wall? Extramarital silhouettes?
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