The big question is this: when the conditioned identity lives its life, gets on with its life, does its thing, etc, etc, etc, then what kind of stuff does it do? What kind of stuff is it interested in? This is definitely the big question. Just ask yourself – what would that conditioned identity’s life be all about, seeing that the conditioned identity never existed in the first place? This is a real conundrum, even though I am perfectly well aware (of course) that this is something that we never dwell upon. You take my meaning however, I’m sure. You’re no idiot, after all. We say ‘Oh, I’m all about this,’ or ‘I’m all about that,’ and we make out that our lives are so very meaningful and important and special and all the rest of it, but how can they be? How can our lives be meaningful and significant and important and all the rest of it when we don’t exist, when there is no such person as us? How does this marry up, how does it match up? The basic point here that we really can’t get our heads around is that the conditioned identity can’t ever do anything that it is genuinely interested in because it is totally fake. It can only fake that it’s interested in this, that or the other. It can only fake it that it’s having a meaningful life and then fake it that it isn’t faking it! So really, if someone were to come up to me and ask me in all seriousness what my life is all about (not that anyone ever does that, mind you) then the automatic thing that would come up for me would be the need to somehow imply that I have this interest or that interest (thereby validating myself as being an authentic human being), or as having this passion or that passion, whereas if I were to be honest about it I ought to say that my interest is in faking it so that it looks like I have actual interests, so that it looks like I have passions, and this admittedly doesn’t sound so good. And even to say that I have a bona fide interest in pretending to be interested, in pretending to have interests, would be completely wrong and misleading – I don’t really have an ‘interest’ in faking it at all, I just feel that I NEED to. It’s hard work faking stuff, after all, and not only that, it’s hard and thankless work. It is joyless thankless work. It is meaningless work, not to put too fine a point on it. You’re telling me then that I should be interested in that? I can only presume that you are joking. So what’s it all about, you might ask. What the frig is it all about? The conundrum of the conditioned identity, huh? It’s like the Emperor’s new clothes, isn’t it? We’re all pretending and pretending, trying to outdo each other with our pretending, all of us afraid to point out the fallacy. The glaring fallacy, should I say. The bloody old conditioned identity, right? What a thoroughly gruesome carry on! Whining constantly in those dreadful voices they have, demanding to be taken seriously. Now be totally honest about it, doesn’t that sicken you? Isn’t that enough to make you totally sick? It makes me sick anyway and I can promise you that I mean that most sincerely…