« An Advice One's Mind Can't Take »

Mind that races itself neither gets ahead nor behind. And, thus, stands still. Notice the circularity of this assertion. Every step appears to move the argument ahead, yet the snake of language-logic ends up chewing on nothing more than its own behind, remaining coiled in place. All language is like that, nothing but a walking staff, just like a stick you'd pick up on a random hike through a forrest. Leave it by the trail, friend, or run the risk of beating yourself with it. An advice I obviously never (rarely? seldom? always?) take myself...