Bubble

You are walking on water. You don’t question it: you simply are, in the way things simply are in dreams. But you’re not dreaming, not really. This is something else entirely, something you have felt before but never quite so deeply. The pink water feels warm under your feet, soft yet firm, welcoming. It smells of home, of soft rains and wet grass. Above you, the sky swirls, a purple spiral gently drifting overhead. You stop to stare at it, and you feel it reaching inside you, calming you, reassuring you.

You. This is you. You is where you are, deep inside. A vast pink ocean of pleasant, blissful emptiness. You walk slowly, taking it all in, knowing every step brings you to another level inside yourself, ever forward, ever deeper. You know you are here for a reason, for He told you what you had to do. It’s scary, and yet you feel completely safe. There’s a calm determination in you, a will to do what needs to be done. To become what you always were meant to be, embrace the sea of pink within.

Something large looms in the distance. You know what it is, what you will do. You keep walking forward, and strangely it feels as if you’re walking down, despite the level beauty of the calm sea under you. Every step brings a strength to you, a conviction you have never known before. Onwards you walk, under a twisting sky. You can feel him around you, in the very air, beneath the soft waves, above the sky. Daddy. Daddy is watching and he’s giving you the strength to do this, the strength to take step after step, the strength to go deeper and deeper inside yourself, closer to the structure. It’s getting bigger and bigger, and a shiver travels like lightning down your spine– and yet, you walk. He’s here. He will help.

It towers before you now, like a monstrous knife stabbing at the clouds. It feels ancient, powerful, and it hurts to know that you gave it that power over the years. Black and labyrinthian, it’s a beast of black steel and stone, of unyielding rigidity and cruel false promises. You know it, and it knows you– or rather, it thinks it does. It hungers for your silence and your anguish, it lusts after your complacency and your fear. You can sense it trying to pull you back within its walls with their illusion of comfort, back inside its strange angles and shifting geometry, back inside its lies and self-loathing. For a moment it looks like a house, and the next it shows chains and bars; it had once been home yet never felt like one, not entirely.

Even now it shimmers like a mirage inside you, its power still there, still real. You take a deep breath and look at it with new eyes, eyes strengthened by your own courage and the support of Daddy. You pierce through the rock and cruel steel and see the building blocks of this structure, this prison, this false home of daily, understated torture. You see a thousand memories and a million words holding it up. Ideas of what you were, what you were supposed to be, who you were supposed to be, designed and enforced by a vast machinery of constant pressure. You see words, harmful words against deviance and comforting words rewarding conformity. You see images, models to follow, models you never chose but were chosen for you, so internalized and accepted they became the bar you measured yourself against. You see shame, a dark shroud like tar on skin, a poison trying to make you weaker, to make you bend the knee and crawl back to that awful place where the sun doesn’t shine. It’s a complex, rusted, twisted living machine built inside you since the day you were born, its massive cogs and gears like crooked teeth, ready to crush hope and devour freedom.

Not anymore. Never again. This is You. This place is your place, and now you have the confidence, the strength, the support to destroy the machine once and for all. You earned it. Daddy told you so, and you can feel it deep inside you. You don’t need the machine anymore. You don’t need the approval of this relic anymore. You can do this. You smile and imagine… a bubble.

Pink and ethereal, the bubble shines and plays around you like a flirty wisp, a laughing pixie. You can’t help but giggle. It looks so cute and silly! So harmless... and harmless also, what is inside. The machine, now so small, so insignificant next to the joy and the sheer happiness of the new you, of this vast pink ocean of freedom and willful submission, of being cared for and accepted, of detached peace and thunderous pleasure. You look at the black tower inside the bubble and it feels so powerless, so... funny. How it ever affected you, you can’t understand but now it simply seems like another life, another world, a distant, vague dream. Perhaps it represents who you were. Perhaps it was useful at some point or another. It doesn’t matter. It isn’t you now, and it only hinders who you will be. You tilt your head, looking at the bubble. So silly. You don’t need it, for you have walked a long road away from it, and found a Daddy to walk with you. This is your world, and you can do anything you want in it, unfettered by remains of old pain

You extend one finger and, like a playful child, pop the bubble.

And just like that, it’s gone. Silence. Nothing remains but the pink sea, the warm wind, the feeling of perfect calm. Daddy’s caring kindness and protection around you. You did what you came down here to do, and now you can let go. You smile as you disappear, as you no longer need a *you*, as you become one with the breeze, with the sky, with the vast, endless, pleasant pink ocean.