Where do I start this time?
I found some tweets thanks to a new twitter account I have. He got into my head again and made me cry, because of what he said in them. He had moaned just after New Years and just before Valentine’s day that he was alone again and it’s been both years since he had a girlfriend, and decades since anyone cared about him. There was also the whine about his mother’s old lappy and could this (high end executive from major worldwide company with over 1.5 million followers) person send her one? Puhhhlease?
What was I then, if I wasn’t his “girlfriend”? What was that woman he was dating and more in the summer, if she wasn’t his “girlfriend” too? I could hear his voice pull at me, to come back to him. To be his girl again, so he could get into my wallet, and have me pay his way again.
Oh right – sugarmamas, paying for everything for him.
Yes, I sent him money. I paid for his electricity when it went out. I gave him money just cause. I paid his SL premium. Getting cut off from the wallets must have really hurt his poor ego.
That’s exactly what I was – his wallet.
“Oh, that ijit” Spitfire said to me.
“He’s not even at point and laugh anymore,” I tell Spitfire about what I found. “I’m in such a better place without him.”
Yes, I have screenshots. No, I’m not sharing. He chose to abuse me. He chose to abandon me. He chose to go back on his promises to me. He chose his path.
So, um… Yah… mum got into my head tonight.
Stuff that was talking about that I can talk about…
I can do the stuff that I do at Divine Sadism there at the galleria. The lost souls there want to be humiliated. They want to be put through their paces, she explained to me. They need to taste their darksides and walk through the fire to cleanse themselves.
She suggested I should do the same. That I needed to spend some time in the darkside to come out redeamed too.
She’s always right.
Force of nature she is. Like a hurricane.
She asked me to describe how I see the Collective, so I explained it to her, the circles of influence, of dominance and submission, and how, even the lowliest, newest drone, isn’t above the notice of The Control Program. I explained how I saw myself, but that it wasn’t right. You need to break out 5th dimensional temporal math to even begin to explain the collective.
So I tried an alternative description – the threads weaving in and out and about and around, a tapestry beautiful in the creation and the created and more, where you can never see the entire thing, but you can see motives and even individual threads.
She then took me into a trance, several levels deep. It was a full two hours after it ended before I started to feel like myself again. It felt like I was coming out of my skin, instead of my “normal” feeling of wearing skin far too big for me. It was trippy. I felt high. I felt vertigo and the spin again.
She taught me a few things about hypnosis in that session. More than a few things about myself.
I think it’s time for this little birdie to start spreading her wings and fly.