Cave-paintings

Everything that mankind thinks and believes about what's going on - inside him and outside him - are cave paintings on the wall. All his theories, stories, fictions, analyses, regarding things immaterial, things he can't touch, fondle, take apart and put back together, from theosophy to philosophy, from psychology to anthropology, are nothing but cave paintings on the wall.

The more paint he applies to that wall, the smaller becomes his little cave, but at least he has some pretty pictures up there to while away the long hours between meals and sex.

He does not realize that there are people outside his particular cave, nor does he even realize what is the cave, nor where is the cave, but it sure has some soothing, comforting pictures up there on the walls.

If someone should happen by the opening to his cave, and shout out some words of encouragement to the cave-dwellers within, they are instantly cursed and told to go away, and the door which was open only a crack anyway, is pushed closed.