Port City of Tangier [November 2015]
Cynthia had never been one to rebuke the notion that some things were simply out of her control. She couldn’t, for example, prevent the Sun from rising and falling each day. Supernatural abilities the likes of telepathy and telekinesis would forever remain beyond her reach. Most of all, she recognized that being the leader of a group of people would do little to prevent those people from acting solely toward their personal best interest – even when such actions resulted in the harming or killing of others.
Back in her teaching days, her students would often ask about what kind of person she felt Akantha Lazarukh to be. Her response was typically one of ambivalence: “These textbooks have been going back and forth about her ever since I was your age!” It motivated her students to dig deeper into the history for sake of finding their own answers, though her true intentions for answering in this fashion were actually a little bit less sincere.
Cynthia’s greatest fear was that giving the wrong answer might destroy her career.
Akantha opened her eyes to a realm the likes of which she had never seen before.
There were no walls, no ceiling, and no ground to speak of. Vectors of light could be seen traveling in all directions around her body. Occasionally, a pair of them would collide and coalesce before radiating explosively in all directions. Yet each reaction was short-lived, not quite enough to chain together other, more complex ones.
When one such vector suddenly found itself careening toward her body, she thought to brace herself against it. Before she could, it halted just shy of her skin and then radiated in the opposite direction – as though she herself had been formed from the very same light. Had she? It was impossible for her to tell.
A voice echoed from far away. Akantha knew not the distance, nor could she decipher the words. The pitch and the tone were akin to that of a child, but this too was something of which she could hazard only a rough guess. She wished to find the voice and to go toward it, but she had no idea where to point her body – if she even could.
When it comes to living the life of a rubberwitch, there can be a few drawbacks. Though the mind finds it quite effortless to invoke sensations of the impossible, the body often struggles to keep up. If you have read through the “Pseudonym” series, or if you have listened to the hypnosis sessions posted to the blog, then you probably have observed this for yourself. The same might also be said if you happen to be a roleplayer.
I’ve been on something of a fitness kick for the past six months. Part of it is to maintain my overall good looks, and part of it is to prevent the spread of some degenerative conditions (as have also been discussed in the “Pseudonym” series to a degree). This post will cover some of the routines I have settled into, and it is my hope that this information will help you too! Read more
District of Carthage – City Streets
After the last of the rockets had fallen, and after the initial shellshock had begun to subside, the city had taken on something of an eerie ambiance. Thick clouds of dust and smoke swirled underneath the cyan streetlamps, staining them with a murky veil of amber. The throngs of people had all gradually aligned into specific movements; some fled through the streets toward their designated shelters while others used the wreckage itself as fortification. To the witch Akantha, all of this was certainly a sight to behold, but it did nothing at all to surprise her.
The great folly of mankind – from her perspective, at the very least – was their indescribable attraction to the places in which they lived and worked. She couldn’t understand why anyone privy to the approach of a great disaster would cling so desperately to a patch of land that they risked their very life for it. Yet this phenomenon had persisted for as long as she could remember.
Nor was the phenomenon limited to periods of war. Great fires, floods, hurricanes and earthquakes did nothing to deter the stubbornly foolish from hunkering down wherever it was they called home. Akantha had walked the globe many a time throughout her life and simply watched from on high as these events would play themselves out again and again. The loss of life, no matter how avoidable, was often inevitable.
Deeper into the recesses of your mind… contours of your physical self… encoded within your mind… reach the door which calls your name… bathtub has been filled with some kind of silvery, metallic liquid… you could dive right into it… so exhilarating that you find yourself beginning to wonder… into the most beautiful arrangement… you have fifteen seconds to walk away…
Please listen to my words, and commit what you hear to memory.
Lately, I’ve found myself to be a little overwhelmed by the number of projects I’ve decided to take on. “Pseudonym” has officially become its own trilogy, “Companion” still requires a conclusion, “Star Maiden” needs to be picked up again eventually, and I have several hypnosis ideas which I will need to breathe life into during the next few months. Needless to say, I am worried that all of this will burn me out.
It’s helpful at times like this to change gears and align one’s sights toward the things which they absolutely love to rave about; for me, this has always been technology. As you have probably guessed, this is another phone post. Recall that six months ago, I purchased the Sony Xperia L1 and gave my Moto G4 Play to my mother. The L1 has not been without its share of flaws, but I told myself that if Sony were to manufacture an L2, I would strongly consider throwing my money in its direction.
A few weeks ago, Sony announced that they would be doing just that. The Xperia L2 is coming to the United States on February 16th, and I want it so very badly. At $250, it addresses many of the criticisms I had about the L1 while further building upon many of the L1’s strengths. This post will outline the specifics of both phones while also giving a few of my long-term impressions from owning an L1 over the past six months. I’m so excited!
When I stop to think about it – and I do mean to really think about it – the amount of writing I churn out on any given day can be rather staggering. The LatexaTheWitch blog sees anywhere from one to four posts per week with long-form content (fiction/erotica) being at least 2400 words each and short-form content (hypnosis/realtalk) being at least 1000 words each. An approximate word count for the blog hovers around 250,000 words per year; however, this figure does little to reflect the amount of time also spent writing on social media platforms.
My typical media messaging habits – through Twitter, Discord, SMS, etc. – cover everything from general discussion to role-playing to live hypnotism. I tend to remain ‘plugged in’ during most hours of the day, and my word counts on these platforms can easily reach quadruple digits before I am even aware of it. Despite lacking any exact figures, were I to ballpark such activities at an extra 2000 words every day, the total number of words written across all mediums would amount to more than one million words per year. That is an astronomical figure!
It begs the question of whether other ‘power-users’ are actually aware of their own potential to cultivate such volumes of writing over a similar timespan. Moderately-active role-players might, for example, surpass 300,000 or even 500,000 without realizing that they had done so. This blindness to one’s own ability could cause them to subjectively undervalue their own potential and to feel as though they would never be capable of loftier goals. More work needs to be done in order to dispel such misconceptions.