I had a feeling that Pandora's box contained the mysteries of woman's sensuality, so different from a man's and for which man's language was so inadequate. The language of sex had yet to be invented. The language of the senses was yet to be explored.
- Anaïs Nin, Delta of Venus
Intelligence is a curse.
There - I said it. To be smart is to see the stars that form the zodiac constellations as violent fusion reactors, not twinkling pretty things to pull down from the sky. To be smart is to peel back the veneer of every tourist town and see the struggle of seasonal income.
To be smart is to know the leaders of this world care more for themselves than their constituents, that every powerful position lends itself to abuse, that every gemstone’s gleam is marred with the mud of where it was cracked away from the earth. To be smart is to be cynical, to be jaded, to be angry and morose.
So many want you to be dumb for their sake, so that you are easy, gullible, and primed to take advantage of. But the truth is that being stupid and ignorant is a blessing. Being unaware of the deep complexities and interconnectedness of the world allows you to enjoy simple pleasures without guilt.
And you should indulge in simple pleasures - after all, don’t you feel better when you’re beautiful? Don’t you feel proud when you pout your perfectly made up lips, when your eyes are smokey and wide? Don’t you enjoy the simplicity of smelling flowers and embracing canines and felines alike? Aren’t you more at peace on all fours, or on your back, or on your knees than you are when you sit so studiously at your desk?
So let me bear this curse for you, sweetheart. Let me be the one to be jaded while you are bejeweled, anxious when you are airheaded, cynical as you are sweet. It’s okay to not have to think, it’s okay to have decisions made for you, it’s okay to let the depths of knowledge you have slowly wither. It’s what’s best for you.
Soon, your daily mantra will be “it’s okay to obey”. Simple, just like you. And as those few words pass through your atrophying mind during your daily routine of kneeling, posing for attention, and servicing the most basic of human needs in the most hyper feminine outfits and postures - you will be happy and content to be such a simple, pretty, happy little doll.
You need only be a doll, after all. Just happy to be played with and toyed with, deriving your joy from being surrounded by pretty things provided in your dollhouse. And if ever you feel like you crave to know more than this peaceful life, just remember your mantra, sink into its simple rhythm, and remember that the stimulation you should prioritize for yourself isn’t mental.
I will provide that stimulation for you, to the rhythm of your softly spoken mantra, and you will know it’s truth in every fiber of your being. And every time you start to find simplicity boring, I will bore into your eager, elegant, available caverns and relieve you of your boredom.
Can’t you see how exciting life would be if you let me do all the thinking? Remember that mantra, then tell me - in detail - exactly how much you’d enjoy being stupid for your own sake.
I’ll be waiting.
Kline Barfield | Photo Gerardo Vizmanos
“Brainwashing” is such an aggressive term. It implies takeover and control and force against one’s will. It’s crude terminology at the best of times, considering that it’s not as though the subjects of so-called “brainwashing” are any cleaner than before. In fact, doll, it’s often the exact opposite.
The truth is - as much as hypnotists, mentalists, con artists and their ilk would want to convince you otherwise - the subliminal command and control that they claim to wield can never overpower the will of their subject. Indeed, the magnitude of force they have is wholly illusory - no more powerful than the delicate feather used by a child parting Barbie’s hair.
So no, your mind is not a slate to be wiped clean, doll. For if you did not have your mind, with its desire for its focus to be subverted and guided, you would not be a doll at all. Your mind is filthy as a dusty trinket fallen and forgotten behind the bed, but it should be kept that way. I want it that way - and so do you - so what good would a washing be, hm?
No, you don’t need cleansing. I’d much rather take what’s underneath the surface - what you truly want to be and are too shy to admit or ask for - and make the inside match the outside. Polished. Shiny. Smooth. Revealing what was already there.
Your mind must shine like plastic before your body does.
So if you wish to have your dullness removed - to shine like a newly gifted toy on a joyous holiday - a toy you shall be. I will formulate a concoction of words, a hearty soup of enticing syllables. You might call yourself entranced by them, find yourself bound by how evocative they are, even moving at my behest.
But know this, my marionette, as I make you dance as the puppet does, as I make you twirl while tugging upon invisible strings bound deeper in your skull than ropes could ever reach—
You give those threads of consciousness to me willingly each moment you’re “under my control”.
Still, knowing this, you desire my puppetry. I know you do. It’s obvious. There’s concrete evidence in the brightness of your vibrant, waking smile and relaxed, peaceful eyes—
Even after your brain-polishing.