“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

He does not have a nine-to-five job. He is constantly in midst of drama, fleeing for his life. The system supports him, and it would not do so under other conditions. He has some financial sustenance, then, some freedom, as he understands it, and he is the hero, the good guy who is, however, seemingly at the mercy of his enemies.

His problems are cosmic in their proportions, or so it seems to him. He has excitement, again, drama, some freedom. These are his boons. On the one hand he knows that he is involved in a façade, playing a game, pretending to be mad. On the other hand, the game itself is becoming too real, getting out of hand, and it has prevented him from learning ordinary skills, say, which seem to be mundane and too ordinary and beneath him.

Any purpose is better than none, and any intended personalized threat is better than an existence in which no life is important enough to be individually threatened, so these imagined threats serve to convince our young man that his life must have meaning or purpose—otherwise others would not be so intent on destroying him. He is clothed and fed. He lives with adventure, threat, and must forever be on guard. He sees himself fleeing across the continent—again, a hero in a vast drama, a romantic picture. He does not want allies, for he dramatizes his isolation.

(9:43.) He cannot be happy, however, with the circumstances, for if he were the entire fabric of the drama would appear false. He must make token efforts, therefore, to break away—efforts that must be futile, because if they worked he would be in the “real world.”