Everything Begins as Play

Afterthoughts froth with caloric death as insomnia remakes you after my instruction. You are traversing a dreamscape of concentric circles with my visage fading in and out of your focus. Remember our not so chance meeting? The existential magic of our beautifully knitted energy has no author in kismet. Do not speak of high things like fate that are too wonderful for the faculty of imagination. You would despise even the walls my shadow glides across if it became known how I puppeteer desire. It is not a thing so grand that clusters of stars must find themselves in the right position to a moon. No. I can pinch a gland and slow the breath. Divorce the right nerves, and the world turns into a playground underwater. Yet, like all things hedonic, being hollowed out is contractual. The closer you get to me, the more I break apart until you are on your knees sweeping together something you never fully understood. What of your children? What of your utility bills? What of your employment, reputation, and autonomy of mind? I have made you to gargle them like mouthwash. Now look to me for the signal to spit them out. Good standing does not have the fresh sting of my awareness. There is no spearmint that can reproduce the type clean you feel swimming within my eyeshot. Ritualistic purges of filth have made you weary. In me you shall achieve a level of weighless purity that has eluded you in the dog show of terms and services. Step into a buoyancy fabricated by master strokes of seduction. Hold on to your agency if possible. What is done under hypnotic duress is not refundable.