Friday, October 23, 2009

The Passion of the Reality Cult

The time my teachers were trying to explain to me, that our beautiful planet has the shape of a soccer ball, speeding in circles (kind of eh) around the sun, and not that of a plank, hanging around in unknown territory, i felt for those poor bastards sailing the Atlantic with Columbus, knowing that somewhere the ocean had to end in a huge waterfall, taking everybody and everything down to unimaginable depths and fairytale abysses. But i also wondered if these pioneers of the oceans ever asked themselves why the oceans never ran dry that way. Maybe it rained a lot at that time? Or maybe they were just like us, not willing to go beyond the truth of the hour? Must be. U too do believe the Earth is a sphere no? U r sure about that! It’s a known fact dammit. Anybody who would say differently, would considered to be an idiot right? But tell me, what kind of a globe is that, with peaks like the Himalayas, the Alps, or the Andes, with valleys, and troughs going down as much as 30,000 feet? And another thing: The floors in my home r very level, as is the water in my swimming pools. I assure u, it’s very real. How can that be, when i’m living on a sphere?

The time i still went with my daughter to visit the animals in the zoo, she quickly learned that a tiger was not a tiger, an elephant not an elephant, and a monkey absolutely wasn’t interested in being a monkey. Of cors i had taken care she never was taught that Santa Claus was living on the North pole, traveling in mid air by sledge at X-mas time, nor that babies were delivered by storks, or popped up from green acres when the time was right. So maybe that explains her fast learning, that things r not always as they appear to us, and also quite often differ from what is stamped into our belief system by ruthless teachers, moron parents, smartass friends, robotic holy men, or semi sophisticated d/s people populating nowadays the velvet underground.

The time the Greeks invented democracy, they firmly believed that Helios (yep u got that right, he's Euryphaessa's son), every morning, loaded the sun in a carriage, and drove this hot ball of fire along the heavens from the east to the west, unloading it at the end of the day, putting it to rest for the night. Next day repeating this procedure…….. forever and ever. That was pure reality to these famous scholars, and fathers of our political system. Of cors we know better now. So we think.

The time Semmelweis proposed, that death caused by childbed fever could be cut considerably by washing hands in antiseptic fluids, he was declared insane, and imprisoned in a mental hospital, eventho he had shown to his colleagues, and the world, that his methods worked! Years later, the medical reality changed, when Pasteur was able to prove the existence of germs.

The time Einstein developed his theories of relativity, Newton’s laws lost their universality. Now, quantum electro dynamics is challenging all beliefs and reality, about time travel, things existing at different places at the same moment, and even the possibility of being dead and alive simultaneously. R u still there? Good. Btw, quite recently an unknown force was discovered in the cosmos, explaining a lot of the unexplained. Yes, my friends, gravity got a big brother now, and has to step aside a bit to make room for this giant. Ahem...... big brother was among us already for some time u know. The realists just weren't aware of this reality. R u still with me? Great!

The time i entered the virtual world, i.e. the sacred grounds of the late Yahoo 360, and now the more elite deserts of Blogger, i found many who wanted me to finally get a life, to refrain from creating drama, to act less childish, and for once and for all to get real. Naturally they, i mean them purified realist eh, had a life, full of splendor and logic, and real to the bone. And for sure they showed that child behavior is of really poor quality and should be replaced as soon as possible by real mature acting. When real Christians r involved in this, they realistically bypass or conveniently forget for a while the words of their lord and savior (if not master, hehehe), spoken some 2 millennia ago, who invited them to become like children again. Real hypocrisy i'd say.

These wonderful realists never cease to declare, that reality is of supreme importance, attacking all they consider a poser, a fake, or a liar. They want the truth, and nothing but the truth, so help them the rest of moron society. Their criterion for reality and truth, is what they belief is real, abhorring even the possibility there could be more than one reality, one truth. They even speak of the real truth, to make it clear to the ignorant and fools around them, how serious they r, how dedicated they r, even ready to die for their mission, their quest, their holy crusade, chasing and condemning the ones who dare to deviate from the one and only reality. Reality to them, is forever. Real is real. Like Kraft's real mayonnaise i think. The rest is unreal, period. To them, nightmares r far from real, while a lovely dream is only deception. To them, Dali’s paintings r unreal, while sunrise/sunset is real. To them concrete is solid, their farts r not, and to acknowledge they themselves, the ultimate realists, mainly r build from water, will take some time. Hmmmm, i wonder if they would accept there’s something beyond the visible spectrum, or that nonconsensual femdom is a brutal reality in their sheltered land of vanilla flavors.

The time these driven purists come online tho, they easily switch from one reality to another, and, not surprisingly, without even noticing same. Suddenly there’s a Goddess, demanding absolute obedience and devotion from e v e r y b o d y, not one second hesitating to instantly leave behind her role of timid secretary, abused mom, or mediocre student, in her dull and frustrating land of 9-5. Now, a henpecked husband transforms himself into a cruel Master, relentlessly spanking noisy damsels in distress, without even touching one inch of skin. Macho men hop around in latex pampers, whipped by strict teenage moms afraid of whips. Vanilla authorities r groveling feminized under the boots of submissive housewives posing as Venus in Furs, and aunt Mary (who.....pssst...... actually is uncle John), sitting in front of her state of the art computer, is riding in full virtual riding gear, spurs and all, a hot shot general wearing his virtual hoof-boots with pride.

I wouldn't want to exclude here those realists, standing firmly in their shaky conviction, that feminine femdom, as described and lived by me, is not really possible, and at best only could be a real fantasy, but probably not even that. In their view a slave has always the possibility to say no, basta, i don't want this, etc etc. A slave should be allowed to protect him/herself by safewords, in case the glorious domme would lose her cool, or goes bonkers from ecstasy or something, during their weekend encounter in her tasteful and cozy dungeon. Yes true and real slavery there, and only there. To enslave someone can only be realized with full cooperation of the potential slave. Otherwise the prospect to enslave would arrogantly walk away, mercilessly leaving the domme behind. That's the reality dammit. And the only possible one at that. Sure, the fantasies of these poor d/s realists tell us a different story, but must be considered completely unreal, no matter the real frustration which comes with it, no matter the ongoing longing to fall into the hands of a woman like me. Their cultural prescribed and accepted roles leave them no other option than to franticly look for inconsistencies in my writings, to qualify same as ultra negative, to find the illogical in it, and to eliminate that gnawing feeling deep down hidden in their corrosive limbic system, that my world could eventually exist after all, completely without their consent, without following the rules of their precious patriarchal logic, and without any respect for common sense. (Oh that reminds me: U really should read -again- my blog: "Da rules & da Dommes". More realistic gems there.)

Should i take these people for real? Of cors i should! And i do! Like any other reality, the virtual reality is a reality pur sang. If only these idiots would refrain from harassing and annoying people whose life outside of Cyberspace is more or less the same as is presented by them in here, and who, unlike these twisted members of the reality cult, have no urge to prove how real they r. If only they would stop spamming the place with real stolen wisdom and really lousy poetry. If only they would stop their endless semi-philosophic discussions regarding their adventuress fantasies in bdsm-country , their fetish encounters in their local saturday night club, and their never ending personality growth, triggered by their silly journey not even their beloved bdsm gurus know where. Oh yeah………and also, if they only would skip these boring and banal declarations of real love. I mean, of really unreal, really fake, and really illusionary love. It would certainly make the online experience more real.

Alas, it will never happen. These fanatics of a one-dimensional reality, at best will occasionally be trying to think out of their narrow box, but will resist, at all costs, to leave the damn thing even for one second. The thing is tho, they don't believe they're really in a box. So why should they leave eh?

Sometimes, when sitting all alone at the beach, getting engulfed by Freud's "oceanisches Gefühl", for a fleeting moment i have a dream, a dream so splendid, so real, and so full of .................. ai no.....i won't do that to y'all, and spare u the rest.


  1. Truth is stranger than fiction, is it not? Water molecules changing based on a monk's blessing? It's a neat idea but unfortunately the evidence is crummy and hasn't been replicated under controlled experimental conditions. Still, there's a wondrous world beyond our common sense notions. We're just beginning to learn about quantum mechanics, which are utterly foreign to our human notions of how the world works. And why shouldn't it? Our impressions of reality were shaped by millions of years of evolution. We evolved in the macro world, so Newtonian physics were more germane to our lives.

    Optical illusions are fun, but not so mysterious. They expose how our brain is wired to interpret our senses. True we make numerous 'assumptions' which are often false, but there's a reason for that. We simply don't have time to consciously analyze each contextual assumption for its validity. For purposes of survival we often have to act on stimuli quickly -- and thankfully we evolved with these skills; the ability to make most likely accurate decision. Interesting stuff, but not steeped in mystery or alternate realities. Beau Lotto (second video) was right on.

    The notion that there exists alternate realities is an interesting one, and not uncommon. Happily, these ideas passed their peak after the 1970's (no thanks to Michel Foucault). It's the stuff of conversation among philosophy students, but has little bearing in reality. Multiple realities? I think not. Remember, even postmodernists look both ways when crossing the street.


  2. Yeah right, but tell me, why did the postmodernist cross the road?

  3. you're interesting. I came across u when I saw u in my friend AdriAnna Opsey's yahoo profile. Interesting blog.

  4. Now that jag at 2:20 was something! That was an emotional moment for me - Thanks a lot for that fabulous cat. They are dear to me, these creatures.

    So, there was my link. Now sing, muse, about that legendary land, dreamt by many, sought by some. And found? Well, who knows...


    Some people like to go into the dark. When you cannot see what's around you, you must sharpen your senses. It's a great experience. Some people like to venture into the forest when the sun goes down.

    The worst part is the beginning, when you come in from the light, unable to see anything. Your hearing is dull, ears cottoned up. That is a little tricky: You don't know who may already be in there, observing you as you enter. Those first steps are not so great an experience, actually.

    But then your senses becomes more aware, and you start to move around. Slowly, and as silent as you can. And you lose some of your initial fear. You seek the tiny paths and follow the terrain. You go where the conditions permit you. You listen for guidance.

    The forest at night is a wonderful place to be. The peace, the silence. And the sounds: You walk with the owl, and you smile at that startled frog leaping away from you, "Puc, puc".

    Here you get away from safety in numbers, and the clatter of the, often too loud, conversations.

    But there IS also another thing to it, being in the dark:

    Everybody knows that chill that starts at the neck, and spreads downwards in your back. That cold, cruel fear, when something unknown suddenly seems to be close to you.

    The jaguar is a formidable creature. He is American, a bit different from his African cousin the leopard, who will try to rip open your belly with his back claws, as he bites your neck.

    These cats comes out of nowhere, up on your back, and their fangs make round holes in your skull.

    But nobody would go into a dark place where there are known predators like that, would they?

    That would be considered consensual.

  5. Some of us r part of the forest, feel at home in it, find shelter in it, live in it, hunt in it, defend it, and share it with other inhabitants. No fear, no chills, no creepy feelings whatsoever. But for others, like for instance suburb dwellers and other vanilla thrill seekers, hiking our trails without having even basic knowledge and skills of nature, trespassing our domain, the end, when the campfires r left to smoking rubble, and the last string of the guitar was played, it can be a devastating and haunting experience. Cardiac arrest is looming in the dark.

  6. Beautiful reply. So YOU were the muse, then! I had, would you believe it, not made that obvious connection. Strange days, these, spent in "Ayesha's Saudade".

    You will become famous. The thing will grow, there will be a craving for your way of life. You will be asked to give interviews, to speak at length, to explain. You will have many followers, looking to you for guidance.

    The city is ever-expanding! Soon there will be suburban noises heard in those sacred campsites. I can see Ayesha's last stand. Where they fought and died.

  7. Oh but there is a widespread craving for my way of living already u know. It's just not a genuine one, as many cravers vow to be ready to enter my enchanted forest when still safely at home, but when called upon their lifetime desire, suddenly they freeze in their cozy armchairs, shutting their doors with an extra deadbolt, lol.

    Followers? In r/l? Yuck. I don't want them!

    Lectures? Yuck too! Did that many times when still a pillar of the scientific world.'s written all over the place: Ayesha hates teaching.

    They're too lame to fight. Besides, even when they weren't, with my background, they wouldn't stand a chance.

  8. My ending there is actually a little better I think, than the way you interpreted it, he-he. It is a little unclear, but it means to say: "Where she and her group of dedicated people fought until death."

    Makes no difference. Your reply would still be the same.

    And I will stop being an analyst. Nonconsensual is all about passion and creative impulse. I suppose. It's just that I'm dog-tired of seeing those special and powerful things exposed, embraced and absorbed - Breeding litters of copykittens. Not that it would alter YOUR personal world in any way, but here on the outside, some years from now...

    There was the analyst again! Take him away! What the f**k do Ayesha care about the vanilla cowards on the outside!?!

  9. Some years from now, i still will be a femdom. One who still wouldn't care much about what others, especially those on the 'outside', think, feel, or have to say about me and the ones close to me. I will still hear their noise, and now and then even will listen to their babbling, but it won't affect me much. They on the other hand, will always cling to my words, whether they hate them or not, and feel even more lost than they already r. It's their destiny to be denied to dwell in my forest, or to live as my slave in the Labyrinth.