attempting to make a hypno sideblog is making me realize i, a) do not know how to make an aesthetic looking blog that people will actually see, and b) do not know how to make it hypno-themed and look sexy
"what does it feel like, when you're being hypnotized?"
their tone was casual and conversational, but it was a question they already knew the answer to. it caught him off guard, in the middle of a discussion which until this point was not especially hypnotic.
"it... it feels good," he said quietly, a bit awkwardly. "it feels... tingly."
they continued to look at him, clearly expecting him to go on.
he felt strangely embarrassed, even though he was very used to his interest in hypnosis at this point. it was just odd to attempt to talk about those feelings in detail while he was awake. just recalling it in order to describe it was enough to pull him down a bit, especially when he knew there was no other reason for them to push him to talk about it like this. that was exactly what they wanted to see.
he attempted to gather his thoughts, feeling the heat in his face as he spoke. "there's a physical sensation... the tingling, and... usually warmth. and there's a feeling in my eyes, or a way i stare... i just feel myself staring, i guess." it was happening at that very moment. his breathing was changing. "i just... stare." he was repeating himself. he was trying not to, but the pressure from their gaze made him feel as though he should keep talking, even when he had nothing new to say.
"and what about the feeling inside of your head?" they asked, their voice almost imperceptibly softer - he wondered if they were trying to sound casual, and the hypnotic tone was just slipping through despite their best efforts, or if it was intentional. "how does it feel inside of your mind when you're hypnotized? how does it affect your thoughts?"
"it..." it was happening, he felt it, but it was difficult to describe. "i just... it's not really that i go blank, it just... i just... i don't know. it's... a little bit harder to think." he paused for much longer than he meant to. he wanted to give a better answer, but he was afraid if he opened his mouth again, he would only say the same thing, over and over. it was an odd feeling.
"i'd like to hear more details," they simply responded.
it flustered him. it was odd, because in situations where he was told he couldn't respond or think of anything, he often found himself able to do so. but in this moment, it was like there was nothing at all.
"go on," they said.
"i..." he almost forgot what he was even meant to be saying in the first place. "it feels... it's... sometimes it's just that my thoughts are... quieter, or easier to ignore, but... sometimes it's just... i just feel, i guess. there just aren't... my thoughts are just... my attention is just on something else, and i can't... there's nothing to think about, or i'm just thinking... i'm just thinking about that one thing."
"and what is that one thing you're usually thinking about?"
"it depends, but..." it was echoing through his mind. how much he liked being hypnotized. how good it felt to be hypnotized. all of those standard suggestions. "i'm just thinking about... how much i like it."
"can you elaborate on that? what is it that you like? what is it exactly that you're thinking? could you give examples of those exact thoughts?"
"it... it feels good to be hypnotized," he said. "i like being hypnotized... i want to be hypnotized... it feels good..." he was repeating himself again, and he was aware of how he must have sounded, how he must have looked. "i just think... things like that."
"keep going."
they just kept pushing him. he wasn't sure there was anything else left to say, or if there was, he wasn't sure he had the mental capacity to think of it, even though he had always felt that he was only limited by his own conscious desire to go along with the suggestions. but now, when he was trying to keep thinking, when he was trying to keep talking, it was like trudging through a thick sludge.
"i... i think about..." he was trailing off. as if there was really nothing else that he had ever thought about in his life, as if he couldn't list a single other thing. it was unbelievable. "i think about your voice," he said, relieved that he managed to grasp at something new. "i think about how nice it sounds... i think about how nice it is when you... when you talk slowly... and softly... and your voice just... sounds a specific way... and when you pause... between specific words... it just... it's nice to listen to... and when you tell me... when you tell me to just relax... and i just... my body just completely relaxes, on its own..."
"it sounds like it's quite automatic," they said, still speaking in a relatively normal voice.
"it is," he said. "it just... happens."
"can you talk a bit more about that?" they asked. "how does it feel when a suggestion happens automatically?"
"it feels good," he said, simply, stupidly. "i mean, it's... it just... it just happens. i don't know how else to... it doesn't really... it doesn't feel like anything, but... it feels good, but... it doesn't feel like anything."
"do you feel you can't resist it?"
"sometimes... sometimes i feel like i can, but..." he felt something creeping through him, a faint, distant realization. "sometimes i can't, i guess. i used to be better at it, but... sometimes i can't."
"sometimes you can't resist?"
"sometimes i can't resist," he found himself repeating blankly, almost shuddering at the admission of it.
"even if you try to? you still couldn't resist?"
"even if i try," he said quietly, almost whispering. "i just can't resist."
"are there any other feelings you experience when you're hypnotized? any other desires?"
"i want to go deep," he said. "i want to listen, i want to follow everything... i want to be coaxed into obeying... i want you to coo into my ear... and tell me that i'm doing good." his responses were becoming so bold and shameless. a part of him was still embarrassed, but the compulsion to answer them fully was stronger.
"how does that feel?"
"it feels good," he said, even though he wasn't even entirely sure what they were referring to.
"do you feel any sort of sleepiness or drowsiness when you're hypnotized? could you describe that?"
"i do, a lot of the time... i do feel this drowsiness..." he trailed off again. what was there to describe? "it's just... my energy goes away, and... it feels nice, i guess... it's a kind of... dreamy feeling. it's... fuzzy. it's tingly. it makes me relax... it makes my mind relax... and then it's... it's kind of hard to think... it's just... i still can think, but..."
"go on."
"i..." what had he even been talking about? "i just..."
"keep going," they said gently.
"i- i'm sorry, i just... i don't know what else to... say."
"is that so?" they asked, a dark undertone to their words. "you really can't think of anything else to describe?"
"i think i've said a lot already," he said, although doubt crept through his mind as he spoke. he wasn't sure he'd said much of substance at all.
"is it that difficult?" they asked, their voice dipping a bit more into a hypnotic tone. "surely you don't need me to tell you how to describe your own feelings?"
he had the overwhelming feeling that he did, though he didn't think he should just accept that. "i... i described them," he said quietly, a bit desperately.
"but you didn't even mention how you often experience arousal," they said, "or how it feels better each time. there were lots of things you completely neglected to say."
"i- that's true, that... those things are true, i just didn't... i didn't think to mention them..."
"then go on. be a bit more thorough. prove to me that you can tell me some of the details you haven't already mentioned before. what are some other things you feel when being hypnotized?"
"i feel... sometimes i... sometimes my head sinks or tilts a bit... um..." he stared, trying to follow the threads of his thoughts, finding that nothing was leading anywhere. "i can feel... kind of disconnected from my body... sometimes my limbs feel heavy..."
they were quiet. did they really expect more? there couldn't be anything else to describe. there couldn't be.
"is that all?" they asked.
he wasn't sure if he was more certain that that had to be it because he couldn't possibly think of anything else, or if he was more certain that there must be more because they expected more. what had he already said? he mentioned the tingling, their voice, the staring, the focus... what else was there?
"that's all," he finally said.
"so you do need me to tell you," they murmured, leaning closer. "it was just so difficult to think, wasn't it?"
"i- i said a lot," he said breathlessly. "i explained a lot of it. i can think."
"but you didn't even mention that feeling of helplessness that you're experiencing right now? the feeling of powerlessness? the feeling of being controlled?"
he blinked. how did he fail to mention any of that?
"i just... i don't know."
"that's alright. it's alright that you don't know."
it hit harder when he really had been trying.
"you just had trouble thinking... because you were falling into trance just imagining it... just remembering how it felt... and it made it so difficult to talk and think, no matter how much i urged you to continue... didn't it? even though you're usually very articulate... and you wanted to give me a good answer. but you just couldn't. could you?"
he couldn't argue with it. he almost felt dizzy.
"can you tell me how you feel right now?" they said softly. "could you tell me?"
"i... i feel... it feels good."
"you can't tell me anything else?"
"i'm... overwhelmed... it's..."
"shh," they whispered. "you've already put in so much energy and effort answering me today. you can just let me tell you. i know the answer. it will be much easier to just listen."
he couldn't help but give in. he knew they were right.
When I turned 17, we ordered a cake at the grocery store for my party, as we’d done many times before. If you wanted something written on the cake you’d write it into a section of the order form. We requested, very simply, “Happy Birthday Courtney”. When we went to pick it up the day of the party, this is what we got.
The bakery employees had absolutely no explanation for this. The order form, attached to the box, very clearly did not contain any of those extra names. Whomever had done the writing was no longer in, so there was no one to ask how this had happened. The fact that the name ‘Juan’ is misspelled bewilders me to this day. (I’ve never seen ‘Miley’ without the E, either, but it’s believable that someone might spell it that way.) Did this cake slip in from an alternate universe where I’m one quarter of a set of Hispanic quadruplets? Dyslexic Hispanic quadruplets, maybe?
This cake became the focal point of my party. At least two of my friends regularly called me ‘Courtney Mily Jaun Pablo’ for years to come. My siblings and I still reference it sometimes, eleven years later. It is probably the funniest thing ever to occur at any birthday celebration of my life, and may well remain so for the rest of my days.
one time me and some pals spotted one of those big cookie cakes in a store. it was done up with red icing and little X's for kisses and in the middle it said
No One Like You
now, it took us a while to realise it meant "(there is) no one like you". at first, we all parsed it as a botched "no one like(s) you"
for ages after when we'd wind each other up we'd declare "NO ONE LIKE YOU ☹️👎"
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