#threshold state

✦ once tasted, silence stains ✦.

✦ ᛚ ᚦ ᛇ ✦

Hypnosis is not submission.

It is a banquet in the dim light.

I offer you the cup. You choose whether to drink.

But once you taste inner silence — that warm darkness where there is no violence, only heartbeats —

wakefulness tastes like ash.

Welcome to my night.

Tried to shed my language, my culture.

In the process, I lost the metaphors that made the most sense to me, while others projected their own uneducated clichés onto what they thought I was.

Never accurate.

Fifteen years of exile. Half a dozen countries.

Today, I don’t recognize the place I come from.

It warped on itself, changed beyond recognition,

while keeping the same varnish.

Or maybe we both did.

Maybe I’ve spent too long everywhere else

to belong anywhere.

✦Note: This piece contains soft hypnotic language and may feel trance-like.Read only if you’re comfortable, and proceed at your own pace.✦

✦ ᛉ ᚨ ᚷ ᛟ ✦

We’ve already talked about triggers. About how a sound signal, a word, a snap of fingers, becomes the liquid border between trance and awakening.

Something so simple forged through the repetition of sessions. Like a warm loop until the brain — that proud, stubborn animal — stops resisting and accepts.

It becomes as natural as the heartbeat you don’t remember. Something rehearsed a thousand times, like a kiss learned in the dim light.

As common as breathing. As easy as closing your eyes.

A sound. A gesture.

That interrupts wakefulness like a silk knife.

Pay attention. Do what I say. Obey me.

But you already know you can. You learned it. You want to do it.

It feels so good to follow. Listen to me.

And fall.

Not into a void. But into a bed of dark moss, where the mind undresses without hurry.

✦ understanding something does not stop it from working ✦

✦ ᛚ ᚦ ᛇ ✦

We haven’t explained how triggers are built.

Maybe because I don’t want to share that process.

Maybe because suspense

— like the night before a kiss —

makes it better.

Many say a magician never reveals their secrets.

I often do.

Magic doesn’t die from illumination;

it only changes form.

It serves to make people admire my technique

and trust that,

even if they don’t know me on the street,

even if they only read my words

in the dim light of a screen,

they can trust

that I know how to guide a trance.

So rest easy.

There is no violence here.

Only a door opening inward.

✦ the mind does not think alone it is always surrounded ✦

✦ ᛚ ᚦ ᛇ ✦ Why don’t I reveal how to build a trigger? Am I afraid that someone might use that information for harm?

Perhaps.

The mind is like a deep jungle. Untamed. Wild. Filled with trees competing for a single ray of sun.

And in the jungle, when you are surrounded by so much vegetation, you begin to pay attention.

Just in case there is a predator.

But the predator does not attack with claws. It attacks with a voice. With a caress disguised as shadow.

It is not fear that I seek. It is reverence.

The same feeling you have when you walk at night and the wind carries the scent of jasmine and wet earth.

Something beautiful might be watching you. And for once, you don’t want to run.

✦ what is given attention begins to feel alive ✦

✦ ᛚ ᚦ ᛇ ✦ Why don’t I want to reveal how a trigger is made? Maybe because I am a jealous hypnotist. And I don’t want to share my subjects.

It’s not about money. No.

It is something more ancestral. Harder to name.

It is, quite simply, a matter of ego

There is something more wonderful than seeing that I am read, that I am heard, that I get likes.

Each like, each interaction is almost nourishment.

A delicious energy. Not sexual in the raw sense, but intimate: the flesh of the soul.

It motivates me further. Almost like the symbolic blood a vampire drinks in the silence of his crypt.

Vital sustenance.

I see my followers and feel a feverish warmth — diffuse and piercing at once — the same warmth I feel from certain subjects in the depths of trance.

✦ᛚᛇ✦

✦ — — — — — — — — — — ✦

200 posts later.

This is not a milestone. It’s a turning point.

Somewhere along the way, some of you began to ask why we obey.

You walked through empty theaters and songs that stayed in your bones. You questioned the weight of words, and you didn’t look away from the deep end of hypnosis.

This was never a lecture. It’s a place that breathes with you.

If you're still here—

you're not just reading. You're inside something already in motion.

(scroll for the three forms)

🕯️Luon tries different ways of existing

Solid enough to remain

Soft enough to pass through

Somewhere between density and erasure