Monday, June 14, 2010
Last Nights Hypnotism
Documenting a little something from last night. Last night at an all night party hosted at my high school for my graduating class there was a special guest. This guest was a hypnotist. He began with telling the audience of around six hundred to hold up their hands and interlock them, then he repeated that they were getting tighter and tighter and will no longer be able to be opened. Well when he told us to unlock them I did so easily but others could not. It was these few remaining with locked fingers who he chose to experiment with on stage. During the course of about an hour this hypnotist had control over 10 students. It was interesting to watch through the various experiments and I made several observations. Each person appeared conscious, they had open eyes, control over movements, and fluid emotions but something was missing; each student was subject to the will of the hypnotist. He would work with with one or two at a time making them do things like dance, or would limit their speech to certain words, even freeze body parts. The hypnotist could talk with the whole group while in a trance and would give them a scenario and then, by command, awaken them to that described scenario. He made use of their imagination when telling them they were on a rocket ship blasting into hyperspace. Each student clutched their shoulders and started to vibrate. Amazing! There eyes were open but if you looked close you could see that they were dreaming and projecting imagination onto their surroundings. The show ended when the hypnotist releasing the students from his bondage of entertainment by snapping them out of there sleep trance. The audience left the hall and those hypnotized recalled little to nothing of the last hour. The performance left me wondering how it all worked, and above that how easily and quickly the man could control those few students. Was it subjective to those chosen? Did he play some trick of music vibrations? More than likely though we are already hypnotized, and his job was just making use of that. Sitting outside I took a moment to myself and observed the surrounding people, and like many times before I found it to be true. Many sets of seeking eyes bore the same look as those onstage and entranced.they appeared to be awake and functioning yet if you looked in their eyes you could see their dreams being projected onto their surroundings, they were victim to these dreams like those students were victims of the hypnotist. Being tugged too and fro by the force of these dreams, possessed I felt surrounded by hypnotized people! it was horrifying! they appeared to be awake and functioning yet if you looked in their eyes you could see their dreams being projected onto their surroundings, they were victim to these dreams like those students were victims of the hypnotist. Being tugged too and fro by the force of these dreams, possessed. They were not aware of themselves but under the influence of some hypnosis of desire. So strange... if only they could be awoken with a tap on the shoulder and have their attention come back into reality, back to remembering themselves, their own presence, the feeling of I AM within yet beneath the powerful pull of dreams. Then I thought, would they want to? Maybe they dream themselves to be powerful, possessing things that they do not actually have. Maybe they are in a nightmare! It left a impression that stayed with me as I skateboarded home.
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Puppetmaster, don't wake me up
ReplyDeleteDon't set me free
Don't release your strings of influence over me
Untie, unbind, unchain - please no
The breath in my lungs,
filling of its own free will - it burns
The currents of my heart,
rapids of my emotions - they suffocate
How much easier it is to live
In your small controlled world -
In your guidelines,
carefully arranged barriers,
of maybes, no's, and definitly nots
Oh, but what a cold way to live
The price of my safety is lonliness
But my own voice is so hard to muster
You cannot speak for me, that much is clear -
Your words are guided by fear, anger, desperation
And those are not me, though you are part of me
If I awake from your dream,
will it be the last time?