-Morty!
-Rick?
-Hey, Mooorty!
-Rick? Are you far away, or are you inside something?
-Is this a camera? Is everything a camera?
-Morty, the garage, Morty. Come to the garage! Morty?
-Rick? W-where are you?
-On my work bench, Morty.
-Flip the pickle over.
-Boom! Big reveal. Here’s something that’s never happened before: I’m a pickle. I’m Pickle Rick!
-Is this the first part of some magic trick?
-I don’t do magic, Morty, I do science. One takes brains, the other takes dark eye liner.
-Well, can you move? Can you fly?
-I wouldn’t be much of a pickle if I could.
-All right, well, do pickles live forever or —
-Morty, stop digging for hidden layers and just be impressed. I’m a pickle.
You seem to alternate between viewing your own mind as an unstoppable force and as an inescapable curse. And I think it’s because the only truly unapproachable concept for you is that it’s your mind within your control. You are the master of your universe.
