We Are All In A Post-hypnotic Trance

A Psychiatrist Who Professes To Be A Healer Of Souls, But Who Keeps People Asleep, Treats Them For Waking Up, And Drugs Them Asleep Again (increasingly Effectively As This Field Of Technology Sharpens Its Weapons), Helps To Drive Them Crazy.

How Do We Define, How Do We Describe, How Do We Explain And/or Understand Ourselves? What Sort Of Creatures Do We Take Ourselves To Be? What Are We? Who Are We? Why Are We? How Do We Come To Be What Or Who We Are Or Take Ourselves To Be? How Do We Give An Account Of Ourselves? How Do We Account For Ourselves, Our Actions, Interactions, Transactions (praxis), Our Biologic Processes? Our Specific Human Existence?

The Individual In The Ordinary Circumstances Of Living May Feel More Unreal Than Real; In A Literal Sense, More Dead Than Alive; Precariously Differentiated From The Rest Of The World, So That His Identity And Autonomy Are Always In Question.... He May Not Possess An Over-riding Sense Of Personal Consistency Or Cohesiveness. He May Feel More Insubstantial Than Substantial, And Unable To Assume That The Stuff He Is Made Of Is Genuine, Good, Valuable. And He May Feel His Self As Partially Divorced From His Body.

No One Has The Answer: We Are Answer And Question.

Where Can You Scream? It's A Serious Question: Where Can You Go In Society And Scream?