The “only if I only had a brain” maga asshole is at it again. This inbred cretin needs to remember that knowing before speaking is what educated people do. It runs its pie-hole the way the toxic false orange idol runs its shit encrusted asshole, spewing false venomous diarrhea.

Gentle notice: this writing has a calming, drifting rhythm. Follow only if you feel safe doing so. ✦ ᛉ ᚨ ᚷ ᛟ ✦

Being hypnotized feels good. I don’t need to think. The thought circles softly — round, like breathing.

The hypnotist’s voice reaches me from somewhere distant. “Yes… you feel good, don’t you?” There’s a silence, but it isn’t empty. It hums — maybe the sound of my own mind folding.

My eyes are closed. Or maybe they’ve just forgotten how to open. I could try — but why would I?

Being hypnotized feels good. I don’t need to think. Words drift in and out of meaning. Somewhere between his voice and my thoughts, something aligns.

The world narrows. I feel the edge between surrender and curiosity. A hand without a hand, guiding without touching.

Beinhypnotizsd feels g—good— Yes. That’s right. That’s exactly what it feels like.

And in that small collapse, thought becomes rhythm. Rhythm becomes breath. Breath becomes obedience — not to anyone, but to the gravity of silence itself.

Being hypnotized feels good. I don’t need to think. It’s thinking me.