Whilst my more recent interests would appear to revolve around 'awareness' in a spiritual sense, it is actually non-awareness and quiet, subtle movements of sensibility that truly arouses my interest, both as a writer and reader, but also as someone who has made a study of the D/s experience.
As I came to experience it, the Dominant created a sort of magic, or other-world sort of experience for me. I was sometimes off-balance; unaware. This was their creation, to ensure that I didn't know what was going on; that I was sure of not much at all; that I was surprised; discombobulated; emotionally charged in one way or another.
It was as if I was playing tennis with a professional tennis player and whilst I was jumping on the spot trying to predict which way the tennis ball would be served, so frisky that I imperceptibly jumped one way a split second before the ball left the net, so the ball went in the opposite direction.
One spends a lot of time trying to perfect that instinctive move until it dawns that one cannot perfect the move when trying too hard. Best to relax and do one's best. Sometimes one will jump right and sometimes one will jump wrong, but it is a 50:50 thing.
When completely in the groove, in the palm of the Dominant's hand, I learned to adore the unpredictability and to revel in experiences of such intense preparation on his part, that I had missed the possibility of the thing entirely. It was then that I felt that things were completely out of my control, and that the sense of scrumptious free fall was completely worth the realization that I had been outfoxed.
And there it is: I do love to be outfoxed.
And, finding pleasure in being dum dum, when I am in fact not dumb, and know myself not to be dumb; that's a sort of outfoxing right there. Subtly, imperceptibly; without awareness of what was truly happening, I was being taken to a state of mind where I had no power, no ability nor desire to disagree.
Yep. I was an 'objekt'. How could I deny what seemed/seems so categorically undeniable? If, when my mind was unpacked and thrown away I felt an empty headed joy, how could I disagree that this was what I was and had always wanted to be?
Are lies involved in this sort of dream-making surreal state? I do believe so, yes. It's hazy; not easily proven, but I do believe that lies are told to bimbo. There's this little silent gap; that teeny tiny moment occasionally when she says in her mind, 'hmmm, could that be right?'. And, she knows in that moment; she knows that there is a porky being told to her.
It's a funny thing because a fib should matter. Lies usually make for distance between people, making intimacy all the more difficult. Yet, there are situations when it hasn't mattered to me all that much. Bit by bit, a state of belief and disbelief has braided together.
It's not so much a 'co-dependent' stance that is being taken in her decision to stay silent about her feelings (although that could be part of it) but rather that there's a fear that in declaring her belief of the true state of things, something magical will disappear. We so want to hold the Other in high regard. That's it, I think. [edit: on re-reading I was gobsmacked that I had so fallen into the state of 'bimbo', 'her', by simply talking about this...]
If magic is to occur again, and bimbo certainly hopes that it will, she must believe in the overall worth of the experience. If, to experience the magic of Christmas one must believe in the spirit of Christmas, or to feel the peace of a religion - faith - one must believe in a deity of some kind, then one must believe that there is magic possible between two humble people. I believe that.
As I came to experience it, the Dominant created a sort of magic, or other-world sort of experience for me. I was sometimes off-balance; unaware. This was their creation, to ensure that I didn't know what was going on; that I was sure of not much at all; that I was surprised; discombobulated; emotionally charged in one way or another.
It was as if I was playing tennis with a professional tennis player and whilst I was jumping on the spot trying to predict which way the tennis ball would be served, so frisky that I imperceptibly jumped one way a split second before the ball left the net, so the ball went in the opposite direction.
One spends a lot of time trying to perfect that instinctive move until it dawns that one cannot perfect the move when trying too hard. Best to relax and do one's best. Sometimes one will jump right and sometimes one will jump wrong, but it is a 50:50 thing.
When completely in the groove, in the palm of the Dominant's hand, I learned to adore the unpredictability and to revel in experiences of such intense preparation on his part, that I had missed the possibility of the thing entirely. It was then that I felt that things were completely out of my control, and that the sense of scrumptious free fall was completely worth the realization that I had been outfoxed.
And there it is: I do love to be outfoxed.
And, finding pleasure in being dum dum, when I am in fact not dumb, and know myself not to be dumb; that's a sort of outfoxing right there. Subtly, imperceptibly; without awareness of what was truly happening, I was being taken to a state of mind where I had no power, no ability nor desire to disagree.
Yep. I was an 'objekt'. How could I deny what seemed/seems so categorically undeniable? If, when my mind was unpacked and thrown away I felt an empty headed joy, how could I disagree that this was what I was and had always wanted to be?
Are lies involved in this sort of dream-making surreal state? I do believe so, yes. It's hazy; not easily proven, but I do believe that lies are told to bimbo. There's this little silent gap; that teeny tiny moment occasionally when she says in her mind, 'hmmm, could that be right?'. And, she knows in that moment; she knows that there is a porky being told to her.
It's a funny thing because a fib should matter. Lies usually make for distance between people, making intimacy all the more difficult. Yet, there are situations when it hasn't mattered to me all that much. Bit by bit, a state of belief and disbelief has braided together.
It's not so much a 'co-dependent' stance that is being taken in her decision to stay silent about her feelings (although that could be part of it) but rather that there's a fear that in declaring her belief of the true state of things, something magical will disappear. We so want to hold the Other in high regard. That's it, I think. [edit: on re-reading I was gobsmacked that I had so fallen into the state of 'bimbo', 'her', by simply talking about this...]
If magic is to occur again, and bimbo certainly hopes that it will, she must believe in the overall worth of the experience. If, to experience the magic of Christmas one must believe in the spirit of Christmas, or to feel the peace of a religion - faith - one must believe in a deity of some kind, then one must believe that there is magic possible between two humble people. I believe that.
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