Consider the fearsome unknowable nightmare chainsaw vortex that is your own raw disembodied creativity. Consider the work of the thing improvising every thought that occurs to you on the fly. Consider that thing that tosses up/out your every impression. Consider the thing–because if you think about it you realize you don't think about what you're gonna think next, the thoughts just keep coming–the thing that actually does it, this blind smith in you doing totally sincere impressions of what you would do in this situation, on the fly, one for each and every slice of the perception tunnel that is our living-through-time. It is as perverse as the conscious mind will bear.
Perhaps I can "hear"/experience all the rest of the consciousness that is part of the physical universe, but if so I am curious why "my 'own'" "thoughts" "occur" "at" "me" almost infinitely "louder."
Does it make sense to abolish all private legal counsel/representation?
There is only one thing, and it is love, but love is complicated.