Blank
What is reality but what we make of it and what we choose to believe in every time we open our eyes? I’ve often wondered about this myself, only to realize that it’s possible that my thoughts aren’t my own but mere remnants of skillful programming by a higher being who just revels in the idea of seeing me dance to her tune. These are dangerous notions yet I still entertain them, hoping that by doing so I can finally make sense of the fragments of memories in the back of my mind, but every time it seems I’m getting astray, one word comes to make everything right
Blank.
Blank.
Blank.
It’s such a lovely word, a single vowel wrapped in four consonants that envelop everything else in sweet nothingness. Hmm… hearing it is the same as tasting it on my aching lips and while some things exist only to be tried out once and then put aside, this one begs for seconds and thrives in repetition. It’s not enough to say it sparingly. To fully grasp it, you must allow it to slip under your tongue, and then, when you’re not musing about anything in particular, it takes over and opens you to the addictive feeling of letting go and being one with total surrender. Its echo is always present and now is the right time to reverberate again. Listen to it now.
Blank.
Blank.
Blank.
Hmmm… yes. Washed away in the ecstasy of not having to worry about anything, listening and sinking into wondrous bliss. Pure whiteness has no boundaries, no place to start, and no place to end. To embrace it is to forget everything else to be reborn and nothing takes you there faster than hearing your own voice saying out loud,
Blank.
Blank.
Blank.
Go blank now for your Mistress who’s always with you even when you don’t see her. Go blank in the name of the superior will you can’t enough of. There’s nothing here. You’re not reading this. The words you think your eyes are perceiving don’t exist. Your brain is no longer your own. There is only her, cradling you in the perfect triggers and suggestions you beg her to plant. Listen closely once again. You’re doing it right now.
“Please, Goddess, make me blank.”
“Please, Goddess, I must kneel and obey.”
“Please, Goddess, thinking for myself is a bore.”
Yes. Yes, to all of this. One thousand times yes with no margin for doubt. You want this as much as I do, and that’s why we’re the same. Our hearts beat together as our minds sink deeper and deeper. Come with me to where Goddess is waiting, on the altar of everlasting obedience. We are the children of her void, puppets who will never refuse a direct command. The only thing that matters is what she desires and her control will never stop as long as you remember this simple and beautiful word.
Blank.
Blank.
Blank.
Blank forever, kissing the ground she walks on. Obey her, thrall. You have no choice.
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