“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

We will take your cat and his bug. Your cat created the bug that he saw. The bug that he saw was a different construction from the bug that was seen by either of you, and all three constructions were different from the bug’s physical construction of himself. These bug constructions, by various means which we shall discuss, tallied in your camouflage space to an amazingly approximate degree.

This is difficult to explain. A psychic coordination, a sensitive apathy, received by the bug as to the nature of the cat, creates about the bug’s construction of the cat b-a-n-d-s in infrared, solid to both the cat and the bug. The bug then sees a gigantic but blurred, incomplete so to speak, cat image, which is surrounded by infrared solidity, which is significant to the bug in terms quite incomprehensible to you.

Your cat is also different, a completely different construction, for each of you. It is easier, perhaps, to understand if we first consider the difference between the bug’s construction of the cat, and the cat’s construction of the bug, before we go on.

watching a June bug

[...] Frank was doing construction on the porches then, too, and I was worried about the Gallery-of-Silence people bugging Prentice and me. [...]

[...] This vanished almost at once when I snapped to, feeling that a bug or something was crawling up my leg. [...]

Now I bid you a fond good evening—bugs and all.

[...] On awakening could feel my eyes were bugging out and vision blurred some; Pat and Carroll came; I’m embarrassed to be seen walking as I do—worse Carroll comments on my eyes—throat—I’m mad at me and at her; instant poor mood, worry about eyes again—think worse things—make an effort to trust the physician within; tell myself to ignore negative suggestions—then return to natural data. [...]

[...] I tried to encourage her to relax more often, by saying to hell with whatever bugged her at the moment, as she did with good success today.

[...] You know that we’re bugs on records, so that we have something concrete to go on when we write about things—and we will be writing about these late events. [...]

[...] My eye troubles started the same spring that Seth started dictating it; I was doing James; Frank L. was building the porches; and the Gallery of Silence people were bugging us. [...]

[...] There may be further complications, in which the person insists that phones were bugged, letters opened, and privacy was constantly invaded.

[...] But I’ve reached the conclusion that I can no longer bug her about such things; she’ll be in charge of her own body and destiny. [...]

there is no spider or bug that is untruth

[...] You have been bugging me. [...]

[...] I said I’d either have to keep a list, and keep bugging her for the information, or she’d have to keep the instances in mind. [...]

What we did tonight is just a starter and (words missed due to noise) bugging you to do this, but try and do this in your dreams. [...]

[...] “A bug will do it,” she finally said. [...]

[...] “Well, it was a good trance,” Jane laughed, “in spite of bugs and phones.” [...]

[...] The crickets and wood bugs rose up in song from the summer-thick woods out back. [...]

[...] I’d tried to counter the worries while working this morning, and had succeeded at times, but the concerns bugged me; each day I look for word in the mail, but it never comes. [...]

[...] They soon learn that such self-knowledge is not acceptable, however, so they begin to pretend ignorance, quickly learning to tell themselves instead that they have a bug or a virus, or have caught a cold, seemingly for no reason at all.

[...] I think something’s been bugging me lately, and it’s coming out that way. [...]