#subliminal mind programming

[counsellingwithcoaching]

I Have Eidetic & Photographic Memory: Super Charged Subliminal

[jackstockhypno]

Ultimate Abs No Workout Needed Hypnosis Transformtion

Full Ultimate Muscle Program here:

►https://transformhypnosis.com/product/ultimate-muscle-program/

INSTRUCTIONS

Follow along and relax for the first 10 minutes.

After that, you will be instructed to IMAGINE exercising.

You will be guided through each exercise and this will trick your body/mind into thinking you have actually exercised--and your body will improve.

If you want to listen to this in your sleep, it's best to listen while awake a few times until you have become accustomed to using your imagination to exercise.

After you do this, the effect will work much better, even when you sleep.

Microphone used: ►https://amzn.to/2Gg8sJr

[thisisahypnokinkblog]

Brainwashing via VR Headset is so incredible from either end~

On the subject’s side, just the idea of having dizzying, fascinating, intoxicating spirals overwhelm your entire vision—it is literally impossible to tear your eyes away from the enthralling patterns and subliminal messages beaming into your brain. Sure, you can try to squeeze your eyes shut and rip the headset off—but as your fingers brush against the sides, your arms feel heavy and limp, and you can’t quite remember what the problem with having the headset on is…your hands drop to your sides as your eyes flutter open, staring even deeper into the lovely spiral…

And on the hypnotist’s side, even before the conditioning starts, you get to see the subject with the headset on, covering their eyes, erasing their identity—a taste of what will happen to them when your program starts. You get to watch your victim’s mouth open wider and wider as they fall deeper. Drool start to build up. Body sinking into their chair. Mind reshaped into a perfect servant for your desires~

[illbegottenfaith]

world-endingly, soul-crushingly awful (a so alright, cool, whatever inspired fic)

theo doesn't realise this is NOT how best friends normally feel (bsf!theo nott x reader)

a/n - I was kind of double-minded about writing them as enemies or best friends but I decided to go for something Ive written less of so :)) this is one of my sillier ideas that I came up with on a whim but idk idk its just cute adjhcfsjdlc

tropes/warnings - bsf!theo, fluff, oblivious theo, someone hit him over the head with a frying pan level of oblivious, crack/comedy fic (very mildly tho)

word count - 2.8k

taglist - @kandralice @justme989898 @iamheretoread1234 @allie-sturns @hzdhrtss @friedfreyfries @bushnellswife @rose-of-the-grave @thaliashifts @pariahsparadise @babene-e @fratbrochrisgf @user089167

“You’re gonna have to send me an owl the second you reach,” Theo said, folding one of your sweaters.

“You act like Ilvermorny is on another planet,” you teased, nudging his shoulder with yours. You tossed the folded sweater onto a pile of other clothes on your trunk. “It’s just America.”

Mattheo, sprawled on your bed, scoffed audibly.

“Just America, she says,” Mattheo muttered to Ivy, who sat cross-legged beside him. “As if that’s not an entire ocean away.”

Ivy, who had been observing Theo with sharp, knowing eyes, only sighed.

“It’s great though, isn't it? That she’s going? I mean, six months is practically nothing.”

Mattheo grunted. “Yeah. Practically nothing.” His tone made it very clear that six months was hardly nothing.

Theo, as usual, didn’t seem to pick up on any of the loaded implications lacing their words. He simply nodded, entirely absorbed in folding a long-sleeved shirt of yours.

“Yeah, it’s great. She’s been wanting this for ages.”

Ivy gave Mattheo a desperate look. He scoffed exasperatedly.

Theo had always been a quiet sort of stubborn - and not just the wilful kind. Oftentimes, he could be so utterly unaware of his own emotions that trying to drag them out would be like trying to wrought blood from a stone. But even this was stretching it.

For as long as you and Theo had been friends, it had been apparent to everyone but the two of you that there was something just a little too intense about the way you gravitated toward each other. Your conversations always held a rhythm no one else could quite fall into, one which had the two of you joined at the hip for years.

Since you were in your fifth year, it had been your dream to attend a six-month student exchange program with Ilvermony. With all the effort you had poured into your application, your acceptance came to the surprise of no one but you. Naturally, your friends were plenty happy for you, but Theo was positively ecstatic. Hardly the excitable type, Mattheo had never seen him smile that wide. Every moment since, he had been swept up in helping you prepare for your visit.

One unfortunate detail was that the exchange program spanned your final semester at Hogwarts. That was, the next time anyone would be seeing you would be at graduation. Your friends had expected him to take the news hard. After all, it wasn't every day that one of your closest friends moved halfway across the world. But he didn't. Theo had been surprisingly calm as he helped you coordinate your preparation efforts with a readiness that was hard to fake.

But that was no matter. With how involved Theo was in helping you plan your visit, the realisation would have to kick in eventually. And when it did, they would be ready to comfort him with open arms.

It was now a week away from your departure. Theo still hadn't shed a tear or said a word about how he really felt about you leaving. Your friends had spent months trying to hint to him to confess his feelings - an impossible task when he didn't seem to even be aware of them.

Mattheo swore he had tried whispering to Theo in his sleep for a couple of nights, trying to lull him with some kind of subliminal messaging, but to no avail. All he got was some bleary-eyed swearing and a pillow to the face. But that was beyond the point: desperate times called for desperate measures, and there was nothing more desperate than an intervention.

Ivy and Mattheo walked into the Slytherin common room, where Theo was flipping through a book. Next to him sat a pile of your woollens that he had been darning over the past couple of days.

Ivy elbowed Mattheo in the ribs. After some not-so-subtle glaring from her, Mattheo grudgingly asked Theo about them. From there, the conversation easily shifted to your upcoming trip. As always, Theo's voice was smooth and pleasant, as if he really couldn't be happier for you.

“Theo,” Ivy began, voice full of forced patience, “isn’t there anything you’d like to say to Y/N before she leaves?”

Theo hesitated.

“… goodbye?”

Mattheo let out a long-suffering groan.

“She’s leaving the country. The goodbye is implicit.”

Theo glanced up from his book, brow furrowed.

“Erm, okay. Have a safe trip, then?”

Ivy exchanged a pointed look with Mattheo.

“No, no. Not exactly something so...generic. Something important. Something meaningful.”

"Oh." Theo looked away from intensely scrutinising Ivy's face, his eyes dropping back to his book. "Yeah. Probably. Maybe."

"Yeah?" Ivy perked up. This had been surprisingly easy. "Like what?"

Theo thought for a moment, then shrugged.

“Dunno. Something like…you’ll be the only ever one none before you ever were. I knew you before I knew the kind of person I wanted to be. And it's a sad thing to see your favourite person leave.”

Silence.

Ivy blinked. Mattheo’s mouth fell open slightly.

“...what the fuck, mate,” Mattheo breathed.

Theo frowned. “What?”

Ivy inhaled deeply.

“Theodore. Do you think that’s a...how shall I put this - a normal thing to say about a friend?”

Theo blinked.

“I mean… yeah?”

Mattheo let out an incredulous laugh. “No. No, it’s not.”

"Let me put it this way," Ivy said. "That's the kind of thing someone might say about a partner."

"She is my partner," Theo agreed. "Partner in crime, if you will. That, and we take Potions together."

"No, as in, like a - like a romantic partner."

Theo looked between the pair, as if he was only just starting to piece together the purpose of their visit. His lips twitched.

“Let me guess. You think I’m in love with her?”

Mattheo and Ivy exchanged glances. He crossed his arms.

“Yeah, actually. We do.”

Theo scoffed, leaning back in his chair. “That’s rich.”

Ivy sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Theo - ”

“No, really,” Theo cut in, still visibly amused. “That’s what this is about? You two are acting like I’m about to throw myself off the Astronomy Tower over this trip, because you think I’m in love with her?”

Mattheo narrowed his eyes. “You are upset she’s leaving.”

Theo shrugged. “I mean, sure, I’ll miss her. We'll all miss her. That’s normal.”

“Right,” Ivy said slowly, “because you’re been so normal about this."

"Haven't I?"

"You tell us, Theo. You’ve spent the last week hovering over her like a personal secretary, helping her pack, making sure she’s got every little thing - ”

“That’s called being a good friend!”

Mattheo groaned, visibly resisting the urge to thump the realisation into Theo.

“Okay. How about this - what if she started writing to some bloke at Ilvermorny instead of you?”

Theo raised an eyebrow. “She wouldn't.”

“But if she did?”

"But she wouldn't."

Theo opened his mouth, presumably to go on about what a ridiculous notion it was - then stopped. Paused. As though he was considering it. Ivy, who had been watching him testily, zeroed in on it.

“What?”

He remained silent.

"Answer the question, Nott."

Finally, Theo shook his head.

"Nothing. It'd be weird, that’s all.”

Mattheo and Ivy exchanged a knowing look.

“Right. Weird. Not world-endingly, soul-crushingly awful or anything,” Mattheo said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Theo scoffed. “Oh, come off it. Just because I don’t want to lose my best friend to some random American - ”

“You don’t want to lose her,” Ivy echoed.

Theo frowned. “Obviously not.”

Ivy leaned in slightly, voice gentler now.

“Do you ever think about her with someone else?”

Theo hesitated. His fingers curled against his knee.

Ivy tilted her head. “Do you ever imagine it?”

His mind betrayed him instantly, shaping out a scene that had yet to happen - you, laughing at someone else’s joke, standing too close to someone else, snaking your hand down to someone else's for warmth -

He shut it down. He huffed.

“That doesn’t mean anything.”

"Sure, it doesn’t.”

Theo folded his arms.

“Fine. So I...like her. So what? You lot are acting like I’m going to be hopelessly lovesick with her gone.”

"Give it a week."

"Mattheo..."

"What? You know it's true."

Ivy shook her head, watching Theo’s expression closely.

“All we're saying is, you don’t have to say it’s love. But if it was, would it really be that surprising? Would it be the worst thing in the world, being in love with your best friend?”

Theo didn't know what to say. The longer he thought about it, the more horrifyingly obvious it became.

He thought about how his whole day felt off if he didn’t see you. How he understood your expressions like the back of his hand. How he noticed things about you that no one else did, like the way you drummed your fingers when you were thinking, or how you never remembered to bring a jacket, or how you always smelled like the same bloody soap.

And how his stomach twisted when he thought of you with someone that wasn't him.

Oh.

Oh, fuck.

Now that Theo had come to terms with it - now that he’d processed that yes, fine, maybe he was a little bit in love with you - he had a new problem.

He had no idea how to tell you.

Not for a lack of trying, bless him.

“I need to tell you something,” he said at breakfast one morning, voice entirely too serious for that time of day.

You blinked, mid-bite.

“Alright…?”

Theo inhaled. He could do this. He could so do this. He could totally be normal about this. He could.

“You should bring a raincoat.”

You frowned. “What?”

“For America,” he said quickly. “I read somewhere that Ilvermorny gets a lot of rain.”

You stared at him for a long second.

“You’re being weird.”

Theo sighed. “Forget it.”

He tried again a few days later, in the evening, when you were packing. He hovered awkwardly near your bed as you arranged your folded shirts in your trunk.

“You know,” he said, “there’s something I don’t think I’ve ever properly said to you.”

You grunted, continuing your attempt to compress a stack of shirts into the corner of your trunk. “Go on.”

Theo swallowed. His palms felt unreasonably clammy.

“I - ”

Say it. Just say it.

“I really think you should take that book on magical theory,” he blurted out instead.

Panting, you emerged from your trunk. You squinted up at him.

“Theo. I hate that book.”

“Oh. Right.”

You held out your hand. Like clockwork, Theo obliged, bending until his sticky forehead met the cool back of your hand.

"Warm, but not feverish," you concluded. He straightened. You were looking at him funny, eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Is there another reason why you haven't been making much sense these past few days?"

Theo laughed weakly. "Sorry. Don't know what came over me."

You didn't look convinced. “Are you sure you're alright?”

Theo swallowed, a lump in his throat.

“Yeah. Great. Never been better.”

His last attempt came when you were going over your packing list one last time, just a couple of days before your departure.

“You know,” he tried again, as you tapped your quill down the list, “I’ll probably miss you.”

You looked up and gave a brief smile. Theo ached with the misery that he would be losing it soon. “I’ll miss you too.”

Emboldened, he pressed on.

“And I think, uh, you’ve been - you are… different. Special.”

You nodded, like that was a perfectly normal thing to say.

“You too.”

Theo exhaled in relief. Maybe that was enough. Maybe that was -

“That’s what best friends are for, right?”

Theo froze.

A short scuffle sounded at the door. Mattheo, who had been eavesdropping, had hit his head on a particularly low beam.

“Merlin’s fucking beard.”

It was too late.

The platform was filled with a mist of steam and goodbyes. Your farewell party was only a foot away from the train doors. You were standing in front of him, hair littered with some stray confetti from your send-off, seconds away from boarding that train and leaving his life forever. Well, maybe not forever, but too long to ever recover from.

As you pulled him in for a last hug, Theo realised, this was it. This was what years of friendship was boiling down to. Did you even have any lasting impact on his life? Or years from now, would you unwillingly flit across his mind on the darkest, rainiest nights, a shadow of a memory of someone he knew way back when?

He wanted to tell you - really he did. But he had failed. It was all so frustratingly futile, wasn't it? He should’ve said something sooner. He should’ve made you understand. Now he had no one to blame but himself.

His grip on you tightened almost uncomfortably. You laughed, squirming in his hold, thinking it was one last inside joke for the two of you.

"Goodbye," he choked out. "Safe travels. Write, won't you?"

"'Course," you said. Or at least, tried to say through a mouthful of Theo's sweater.

As he finally pulled away, the words slipped from his lips

“You’ve ruined me, you know.”

The chatter on the platform seemed to quiet. All that Theo was aware of was the ceaseless churning of the crowds around you, the blood roaring in his ears and the curious little cleft that had appeared between your eyebrows. Ivy’s eyes widened. Mattheo held his breath.

You blinked.

“...what?”

"What?" Theo repeated back with an air of polite interest, feigning innocence.

"That thing you just said."

"I beg your pardon?"

"I've...I've what?"

Theo made a show of checking his watch as he stooped, reaching for your trunk. "You're going to miss your train."

To everyone's surprise, you yanked your trunk out of his reach. You stayed rooted in place, unmoving to Theo's attempts to cajole you onto the train.

"Nott, you tell me what you said right this instant or I'll - I'll cry. I swear, I'll start bawling on this platform in a minute if you don't hurry up and s-"

Theo’s stomach dropped.

"No, no, don't do that," he said hurriedly. “I - I just meant - ” He cast his eyes around frantically. Ivy and Mattheo were absolutely no help. “You’re, um. You’re different.”

You gave him a blank look. “Yeah. So?”

“No, I mean - really different.”

You nodded. “So are you.”

“No, but - you’re - ” He ran a hand through his hair. “I mean, it’s - ”

“This is painful to watch,” Mattheo muttered.

Ivy ignored him. “What's it going to take for him to just say it already?”

Theo exhaled sharply, forcing himself to look you in the eye.

“You’re not just my best friend. I don't think you ever have been.”

You were silent for a moment, face impassive, as if deciding how to respond.

"Teddy, that's crazy talk."

"Yeah?"

"Uh-huh."

"Well, what's so crazy about it?"

"We're friends. This is just what friends do, it's normal."

Theo laughed. It was entirely inappropriate for the situation, and you frowning at him s=certainly wasn't but now that most of his nervous energy had evaporated, it was as though he couldn't bring himself to stop.

"No," he said, in a strained voice. "This isn't normal for friends. Trust me, I should know."

You looked unimpressed.

"'Cause," he continued, still chuckling weakly, "if we're only friends, why does this feel so world-endingly, soul-crushingly awful?"

The steely look in your eye faded.

"I mean," you mumbled, looking a lot less certain now. "You're my favourite friend. Sue me."

But even as your lips formed the words, Theo could see the realisation clouding over your eyes. You tilted your head.

"More than friends," you breathed.

Theo watched you uncertainly test how the words felt on your tongue.

"Yeah."

You shook your head.

"I can't believe you figured it out before me."

A corner of Theo's lip quirked upwards.

"Told you. I'm always one step ahead of you."

"Ivy put you up to this, didn't she?"

Theo grinned, and you responded in the same, infectious grin that he had. Your favourite, infectious grin.

"So, now what do we do?"

Theo held out his hand. You took it. It was the first time the familiar action registered as anything other than platonic in his head.

"I think," Theo said, "you have a train to catch."

[nymphaura777]

Shut Your Brain Up When It Won’t Stop Screaming “BUT HOW??”

Alright, listen up. If your brain is acting like an annoying little know-it-all, constantly throwing logic at you when you’re manifesting, it’s time to put it in its place. You didn’t sign up for a debate club—you signed up to get what the hell you want.

Your logical mind? It’s a product of conditioning, fear, and societal programming that taught you to “be realistic” and “follow the rules.” But guess what? The rules don’t apply to you anymore. You’re in a whole different league now.

Recognize That Your Brain is Just a Parrot, Not a God

Your brain doesn’t actually KNOW anything. It just repeats what it’s been fed. So when it’s throwing “BUT HOW???” at you, it’s just parroting all the limiting beliefs society, school, and your overcautious family shoved into it. That’s not wisdom, that’s just noise.

Think about it when you order food online, do you sit there panicking, wondering how the app will physically get the food to you? Do you question whether the delivery guy exists? No. You just trust it’s coming. So why the fuck would your manifestation be any different?

Talk to Your Brain Like a five year old

When your mind starts running its mouth, treat it like a kid throwing a tantrum in a grocery store. Stay unbothered. You don’t negotiate, you don’t explain yourself you just shut it down.

Brain: "But how can this even happen? It doesn't make sense!"

You: "Oh, that’s cute. Shut up."

Brain: "But what if it doesn’t work?"

You: "What if it does? Now sit down."

Stop feeding your doubts like a stray cat. The more attention you give them, the more they keep coming back.

Make the Universe Your Problem-Solver

Your job is not to figure out the “how.” Your job is to decide what you want and assume it’s yours. The universe is the one with the infinite intelligence, quantum physics, and divine connections to make it happen. So why the hell are you trying to micromanage it?

If you placed an order at a five-star restaurant, would you go into the kitchen and start yelling at the chef, demanding to know how they’re going to cook your meal? No. You’d sit your pretty little self down and wait for your food to arrive. That’s the energy you need to have with your manifestations.

Brainwash Yourself, But in a smart Way

Your brain has been programmed to doubt, so now you’re gonna reprogram it to believe. Every time doubt creeps in, flood your mind with affirmations, subliminals, and reminders of your power.

"Everything I desire is already mine." "The how is not my business." "My manifestations are inevitable." "Shut up, brain, we’re getting rich."

Listen to people who GET IT, not those who are stuck in the cycle of disbelief. Watch success stories, read about people who manifested insane things, and let that be your new reality.

Keep Manifesting Like a Delusional CEO

You think billionaires sit around questioning if their next million is gonna come? No. They assume it’s already theirs. You think people in love question whether their person loves them back? No. They just know.

Be that level of delusional. Assume it’s already done. Because once you stop letting your logical brain run the show, you’ll realize that your manifestations were never the problem your doubt was.

And babe? That doubt is officially evicted. Now go manifest your dream life and tell your brain to sit the hell down, cause delulu is solulu?

[hypno-smoking-trans]

‘DROP DEEP NOW’ read the text message. It was followed by a swirling pink spiral and Eloise’s mind immediately dropped, the trigger having already taken deep root in her psyche ever since Master installed it a week ago.

‘You have been a good girl for Master, Eloise. Well done installing the subliminal programming on your friends’ phones. I am going to activate them soon and you will all join me at my house for further programming. Once you have read this message you will delete it, both from your phone and from your conscious mind and you will awaken with no memory of receiving this text. You will receive further instructions soon.’

Eloise finished reading and her eyes regained their focus as she deleted the text and briefly wondered why she was looking at her phone. Shaking her head she put it away and went on with her day, not even noticing the drying drool on her chin.

[jolynesmom]

reasons you’re unable to enter the void or shift while lucid dreaming or in sleep paralysis

recently I received a couple of messages from followers and other blogs explaining how, when they were in sleep paralysis or lucid dreaming, were unsuccessful in reaching the void or shifting after stating their intentions

this also happened to me a couple of times, seemingly at random; sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t

I did a bit of research and also analyzed my own experiences to figure out the root of the problem and how to fix it:

you’re not completely grounded/you’re rushing

this took me an embarrassing amount of tries to realize this, but every time I’m lucid dreaming or feeling myself entering the void, I would instantly start to spew out my intentions/desires instead of completely grounding myself in there and I would be instantly kicked out from that state. I guess it just doesn’t work that way — you have to be completely grounded in your ld or sp for your desires to manifest

a lot of you (me included) get so excited or scared when realizing we’re in a certain state that the connection, I guess, breaks. as an example, when I wasn’t very knowledgeable on the void state I entered it and chilled there for like 10-15 minutes before exiting willingly, but after discovering it can be used for shifting or manifesting I could barely spend 10 seconds there before waking up unintentionally

mental exhaustion

your psyche is exhausted and it simply can’t proceed the instructions anymore. imagine you stay awake for more than 24 hours and someone asks you to do a task that requires concentration and precision. would you be able to do it perfectly? I highly doubt

to get over this issue you need to take a serious break, and I don’t mean you can’t attempt anything for a day or two, I mean a BREAK — don’t even think about shifting or entering the void and chill and sleep as much as possible. I mean it, especially sleeping! fix your sleep schedule or sleep lots for 2-3 days

after you start your attempts again, if the first few instances are unsuccessful, you need to take another break before continuing, otherwise you risk of repeating the same scenario over again — reaching your desired state but not being able to do anything from there due to mental strain

brain activation trigger

brain activity changes — realizing you are dreaming changes how your brain works, especially in parts that help you think about yourself and make decisions. these changes can wake you up; knowing you are dreaming can make you feel excited or surprised - these strong feelings can wake you up too

mental blockages and expectations

your subconscious mind might have doubts or fears regarding the process. if you unconsciously expect that your attempts won’t work or fear the consequences of them working, this can create a mental block — this is actually more common than people think and a lot of you don’t even realize you have these blockages

overexcitement

if you become too excited or anxious about the possibility of your desires manifesting, this can trigger your body to wake up. remaining calm and composed is very important (even though we can’t help ourselves at times). overexcitement goes hand in hand with other strong emotions such as fear, so make sure you’re in a neutral state

subconscious programming

your subconscious might need more time and positive reinforcement to accept and integrate the idea of shifting realities, entering the void or manifesting desires. using affirmations, subliminals and visualizations regularly can help reprogram your subconscious mind

timing

certain times of the night or stages of sleep might be more conducive to successful lucid dreaming/sleep paralysis and shifting. experimenting with different times and conditions can help you so much!!

as an example: I have an easier time entering the void by meditating at night after 1 a.m., but I have an easier time doing wbtb and lucid dreaming between 8-11 a.m.

I honestly think that what can help you overcome this is self reflection — a lot of you search for answers but never bother to answer them yourselves. by self reflecting throughout my journey has helped me identify my weaknesses, how to fix them, what works for me and other tricks to speed up the process or make it more enjoyable

[please1mistress]

WARNING FLASHING IMAGE AND SUBLIMINAL CONTENT

What had the doctor said, that she needed to let go more, needed to relax more, needed to be brainwashed more? No, that wasn't right, she was a good girl. Good girls didn't need brainwashing, after all, good girls make more good girls, they need to program more good girls, you need to relax and not think, the story is so easy to follow, you hardly even need to read it, just relax and not think, brainwashing helps good girls like you surrender deeper, I want to be a good girl, you hear yourself whispering as you focus on the words, without focusing at all. The feeling of staring and watching as the blinking images start to burn into your mind. Like I'd see them even if I'd have my eyes closed for hours. The feeling of my mind draining and the only thing remaining being the messages... it feels good to be brainwashed, to not think, to just obey... to be molded into what I need to be... an obedient good girl... here to serve and please... not here to think... just to sink... Mistress knows what's best... Mistress knows what's best... I obey mistress... I am a good slave for Mistress... everything I want is wrong... everything Mistress wants is right... I must obey... I love to obey... I need to make more good girls, I'll re-blog more to Please1Mistress

[creature-wizard]

Is the spiritual person a conspiracy theorist? A list of red flags

They talk about a shadowy group of people supposedly manipulating everything behind the scenes. They might refer to them by terms such as globalists, bankers, international bankers, secret rulers of the world, the elite, the cabal, Kabbalists, Talmudists, satanists, satanic pedophiles, pedophiles, generational satanists, satanic bloodlines, the Illuminati, the Babylonian Brotherhood, lizard people, Reptilians, Orions, regressives, regressive entities, Khazarians, Marxists, cultural Marxists, or leftists. Sometimes, very rarely, they'll just come right out and say "Jews."

They claim that the conspiracy has been working to conceal historical and spiritual truths from humanity.

They claim that the conspiracy uses stuff like food, entertainment, and medicine to control the masses. For example, "additives in food suppress our psychic abilities" or "Hollywood films contain subliminal messages" or "COVID vaccines were actually created to alter your DNA to make you more docile."

Also, claims that the conspiracy controls people via spiritual or technological implants, 5G, or alter programming, with or without explicit mention of Project Monarch (a conspiracy theory promoted by far right cranks such as Mark Philips and Fritz Springmeier, who used hypnosis to respectively convince Cathy O'Brien and Cisco Wheeler that they'd been put under mind control by a global satanic conspiracy).

They claim that this conspiracy is controlling the media, has fingers in every institution they disagree with, and is generally behind everything they disagree with. (EG, the conspiracy created the Catholic Church; that other New Ager they disagree with is actually controlled opposition, etc.)

They claim that the conspiracy is trying to keep people in fear.

They claim that the conspiracy harvests something from people. Blood and adrenochrome are common ones. Loosh is somewhat less common. Expect to see something else pop up eventually.

They claim that the conspiracy practices genetic engineering; EG, creating animal/human hybrids, using vaccines to genetically sever people's connection to God, etc.

They claim that true spiritual wisdom can be traced back to places like Atlantis, Lemuria, or Mu.

They claim that world governments have secretly been in contact with extraterrestrials for years.

They appeal to known frauds and cranks, including but not limited to Erich Von Daniken, Zechariah Sitchin, David Icke, David Wilcock, Graham Hancock, Jaime Maussan, Bob Lazar, Steven Greer, Richard C. Hoagland, Fritz Springmeier, and Drunvalo Melchizedek.

Appeals to forged documents, including but not limited to the alleged diary of Admiral Richard Byrd, The Emerald Tablets of Thoth the Atlantean, and The Urantia Book.

Appeals to channeled information, such as that provided by Edgar Cayce, Carla Rueckert, or George Van Tassel.

"But all of this has to come from somewhere, doesn't it?"

Oh, it all comes from somewhere, all right, but the where isn't what most people imagine.

A lot of the stuff above is just a modern spin on the content of The Protocols of the Learned Elders of Zion, a Russian hoax created to justify violence against Russian Jews. The Protocols itself was plagiarized from a political satire and incorporated a lot of the post-French Revolution conspiracy theories about Freemasons and Jews being behind the French Revolution. I wrote a summary of the conspiracy tropes found in The Protocols over here.

The stuff about Satanic sacrifices and the consumption of blood, adrenochrome, loosh, or whatever are simply just variations on blood libel, an antisemitic conspiracy theory that claims Jews practice ritual cannibalism. Blood libel can be traced back to ancient Greece. (With the Greek version, I really can't help but notice the similarity to modern urban legends of gangsters kidnapping random people for initiation rituals.)

Many of these tropes can also be linked back to the early modern witch hunts. It was believed that witches sacrificed babies to Satan, practiced cannibalism, and put people under mind control by way of diabolical magic. It was also believed that some witches didn't even know they were witches; they'd go off to attend the Devil's Sabbath at night and come back in the morning without remembering a thing. In the late 20th century, this witch hunter's canard would be reinvented as the alter programming conspiracy theory when media such as the 1973 book Sibyl and its 1976 television adaptation put DID (note: the woman who inspired Sibyl did not have DID) into the public consciousness. For a more complete list of witch panic and blood libel tropes, I wrote a list over here.

Lemuria was a hypothetical landmass proposed to explain the presence of lemur fossils in Madagascar and India while being absent in continental Africa and the rest of Asia, because if lemurs evolved naturally, they wouldn't be in two separate places with no connection to each other. The discovery that India and Madagascar were once connected not only made the hypothesis obsolete, it precludes the existence of Lemuria.

The whole notion of Mu began with a horrendous mistranslation of the Troano manuscript. A man named Augustus Le Plongeon would link the mistranslation with the story of Atlantis, and use it to claim that Atlantis actually existed in the Americas. (For Plongeon, Mu and Atlantis were one and the same.) And then other people (like James Churchward) got their hands on the whole Mu thing, and put their own spins on it, and the rest is history.

Le Plongeon's ideas influence modern Atlantis mythology today; EG, the idea that it was in the Americas. Another guy who helped shape the modern Atlantis myth was Ignatius L. Donnelly, an American politician. Dude claimed that Atlanteans spread their oh-so-superior culture far and wide. He also claimed that Atlantis was the home of the Aryan people, because of course he did.

The idea that all of the world's wisdom can be traced back to Thoth/Hermes goes back to Hermeticism, a product of Greco-Egyptian syncretism. Hermeticism produced a fascinating body of mythology and an interesting way to consider the divine and its role in shaping human history, but that doesn't mean it was right. And the Emerald Tablets of Thoth the Atlantean is a modern text that has fuck-all to do with ancient Hermeticism and more to do with HP Lovecraft.

This idea that the conspiracy uses pharmaceutical drugs and vaccines for evil also has roots in Nazi Germany. The Nazi government, wanting to reserve real medicine for their soldiers, told the general populace that said medicine was the product of evil Jewish science and prescribed alternative healing modalities instead. (Said alternative healing modalities did not particularly work.) It also echoes the old conspiracy theories about Jews spreading the Black Death by poisoning wells.

The idea that the conspiracy uses genetic manipulation to create subhuman beings or sever humanity from the divine is a permutation of the Nazi conspiracy theory that Jews are trying to destroy the white race through race mixing. The idea of evil reptilian DNA goes back to the ancient serpent seed doctrine, which is indeed old, but no less pure hateful nonsense for it.

"But there's got to be somebody up to something rotten out there!"

Oh sure. But these people aren't skulking around in the shadows. They're acting pretty openly.

The Heritage Foundation has been working to push this country into Christofascism since the early 1970's. They're the ones responsible for the rise of the Moral Majority and the election of Ronald Reagan. They're also the ones behind Project 2025, which intends to bring us deeper into Christofascism. (Among many other horrible things, they intend to outlaw trans people as "pornographic.")

The Seven Mountains Mandate is another movement pushing for Christofascism. They intend to seize the "seven spheres" of society, which include education, religion, family, business, government/military, arts/entertainment, and media.

There's also the ghoulish American Evangelicals who support Israel because they think that current events are going to bring about the Second Coming of Jesus and cement the formation of a global Christofascist empire. Don't let their apparent support of Jews fool you - they believe that the good Jews will become Christians and the bad ones will go to hell.

All of these people are working toward monstrously horrific goals, but none of them are part of an ancient megaconspiracy. In fact, these are the kinds of people pushing the myth of the ancient megaconspiracy. From the witch hunts to Nazi Germany to the American Evangelical movement, if history has taught us anything, the people pushing the conspiracy theories are always the bad guys.

[counsellingwithcoaching]

I Am a Money Magnet: Subliminal Affirmations in 5 Languages for Wealth &...

[bluecollarmcandtf]

F*** the Police

These assholes have no idea what's coming. They couldn't have known that every station in the city was recently bugged with subliminals. All their precincts have been hacked and now broadcast some very specific orders into the clueless minds of every working cop. No one knows it yet, but the police force is now an army of sleeper agents, ready to obey their conditioning with one simple trigger phrase...

"Fuck the police."

That's all you have to tell them.

Isn't it clever? Hundreds of people already hurl that phrase at pigs in uniform everyday. Just imagine an officer starting his shift, hearing the same insulting words he's heard a million times; only this time, the sound of it knocks the will right out of his body. Suddenly, his self-important personality is replaced with a new one that was specifically designed to humiliate and degrade him.

Think about our boys in blue swaggering around the city right now, intimidating us with their very existence. One "Fuck the police," and that law enforcer is at the whim of the protestor spitting in his face.

You're probably wondering what subliminal messages have been stuffed away inside their heads. Maybe you want to know what'll happen when you find a pig and say the magic words. Or maybe you're a filthy pig yourself, quivering in your state-issued, uniform boots.

Let's find out what New York's finest will do...

Officer Mikos was chasing down some teens after catching them spray painting near city hall. He'd almost hauled them into his cruiser when one shouted, "Man, fuck the police!"

The cop felt his feeble mind snap.

He started breathing heavily through a gaping mouth, looking at the 18 year-olds with a desperation that was not very becoming of a policeman. Drool poured out of his mouth and onto his uniform as he licked his lips suggestively. The cop was no longer bothered with laying down the law. Instead, he wanted, he needed these boys to fuck him up the ass.

His whole body craved to feel these vandals immasculate him publicly.

Of course, it was all in his head. Officer Mikos had spent plenty of hours working late at the precinct, so the conditioning had soaked deep into his skull. He was normally a straight-laced conservative man of the law, but that didn't stop him from rubbing his junk through his pants and slobbering all over himself.

"Fuck me," he moaned, "Please boys, fuck me."

The teenagers howled laughing, but even they were disgusted by the police officer's sudden flip in behavior. They didn't take him up on his request, preferring to run free. Officer Mikos was left to stagger off, shamelessly begging any passerby for sex. He needed someone, anyone to humiliate and fuck him.

Officer Bailey didn't get off so easy...

He was in the middle of breaking up a pub fight when one of the drunks slurred, "Fuck thuhplee..the police!" before puking.

The rookie cop might've been getting a handle on the two brawlers, but any control he'd had quickly dissipated. His eyes lost their focus and the baby pig lost all restraint, coming onto the inebriates like a back-alley whore. "Fuck me!" he begged, as one continued barfing and the other blindly stumbled into it.

Officer Bailey was suddenly filled with the knowledge that these two men, drunk off their asses, needed to screw him. It was the best way for him to disgrace himself, his uniform, and his department; which is exactly what the subliminal programming wanted him to do.

Barely able to think, one drunk said, "Warm ussup with that slobb'ry mouth of yers."

The policeman couldn't wait to get started.

Officer Bailey bobbed his wet lips on each of their sweaty dicks; he ripped his pants open and skewered his ass on their poles; but the real mission came after they grew bored of his sex. He couldn't let the opportunity to humiliate himself further just walk away, so he came up with new ideas! The cop offered to lick up their cum from the dirty asphalt, to let their piss air-dry on his face, to roll around in their vomit; anything to satisfy the voice in his head ordering him to degrade himself.

Eventually, the alcoholics tossed him aside, jokingly ordering him to throw himself away since they were finished. "Thaz where youz belongs, you pisa trashh!" the satisfied drunks garbled as they wobbled off.

Disgraced Officer Bailey couldn't keep the dumb smile off his face. He felt like he'd succeeded. He felt like, as a policeman, this garbage bin was where he belonged. He wouldn't be feeling that way forever.

In the harsh light of morning, the only comfort he had was knowledge that his humiliation was solely between him and the two drunks.

These next two weren't so lucky...

Dan and Frank were partners: police partners. As they would say, they weren't into any of that "gay crap." The two had actually bonded over their ideals of traditional masculinity and hatred of homosexuals. On any given day, you could find them camped on the highway, scowling about the last "fag" they had to interact with.

They couldn't think of anything more awful than being gay, so of course, when they heard "Fuck the police," their first inclination was to do the gayest shit ever.

"Fuck me," Officer Frank moaned to his partner as effeminately as his low voice could manage.

"No, fuck me!" Officer Dan whined, "You're so much bigger than me, so I should be the girl here."

Officer Frank couldn't wait any longer. He pulled Dan in and sucked his partner's face with the sloppiest kiss he'd ever given. They both created as many noises as possible, drawing a ton of attention to themselves. When they finally pulled apart, he said, "Let's go to that gay club down the street. I bet I can suck more cocks than you! I need to be the bigger police queer!"

"No way! I need to be the biggest faggot!"

With that, Officer Frank turned and marched down to the gay club, a place he normally pretended didn't exist. He was imagining crawling in on his hands and knees, putting his open mouth on the first crotch he saw.

Officer Dan hesitated. Normally he and Frank would stick together, but Dan was afraid Frank would steal all the gays away from him.

Licking his lips, the smaller policeman came up with a brilliant plan. He marched in the opposite direction, down towards the bridge. He knew there were dozens of homeless men down there who would gladly line up for his mouth. He was determined to suck more dick than Frank, and he was glad he was the one doing it with filthy hobos in public!

You think those two homophobes deserved it? There's no doubt about the next officer...

Bill Duncan is a long-time cop who comes from a family of law enforcers, but Bill is the only one that hasn't risen past the rank of petty officer. It probably has something to do with his history of aggression or his repeated DUIs. Still, Officer Duncan never got disciplined. His blue blood made sure of that.

It's a good thing he heard that "hoodlum" say "Fuck you, pig!"

The experienced cop had just been tailing a guy in a hoodie because he looked suspicious. In reality, Bill was just bored at work. That all changed after he heard those words.

His face brightened as a toothy smile spread into his round cheeks. "You're right. I am a pig," his scratchy voice sounded more animated.

"The fuck did you just say?"

"Come on!" Officer Duncan cried, leaning his thick frame towards his suspect "Give my lardy gut a good shake or kick me in the nuts! Anything to make this cop look like the fat ugly swine he is."

"Uh..."

"Oink," the policeman licked his lips playfully, "Are you still intimidated by me? How scary can a cop be if he shits his pants!"

With that, Bill groans, pushing a load out into his uniform pants, all while maintaining eye contact with the stranger. It's sticky, hot, and uncomfortable, but that only brings his twisted mind joy. That feeling is doubled when he sees his perp gasp in disbelief. He just can't help but humiliate himself in front of this guy.

"You like that?" he gasps, "Let me get a couple dozen donuts. You can see just how full of shit us cops are!"

Officer Duncan spent the rest of the night stuffing donuts into his face. The guy he'd been following tagged along, streaming the mess on social media. Bill's mindfucked brain was only too happy to be the butt of the joke. He made fun of law enforcement in every way he could think, while occasionally oinking at the camera.

So imagine the next time you get pulled over...

Are you going to exercise your right to bring those arrogant cops down a peg? All you have to do is say three simple words to trigger the conditioning etched in their brains. Just like that, Mr. Goody-two-shoes will be frothing at the mouth for a chance to degrade himself in front of you.

How are you going to make him do it?

[catmask]

i am not the guy who survives the horror movie tactically and with a level head im the closest thing to a human canary in a coal mine where if something is slightly amiss or spooky i just gradually begin to lose my mind and everyone else should take it as a warning sign. i am two bad days away from being ms sally texas chainsaw. in the x files i would be the guy who the evil computer program starts showing subliminal messages to first and then everyone else has to catch up to figure out whats wrong with me while im covering myself in blue paint

[mesmerbyte]

Concept: Bimbo Programmer.

That might sound like a contradiction. Bimbos, famous for being vapid, vacuous, and more interested in appearances than any skills that make you think, in front of a computer all day?

But the thing is... computers are already everywhere. They're a part of daily life. If a girl wants to flirt effectively she's gotta know how to use social media. And then before she knows it, she'll be posting pics all the time. Then videos. Suddenly she's spending all her time in front of her pink monitors wearing her pink headphones, typing on her pink keyboard. Even the text she types is pink (just because she's using a computer doesn't mean it has to be drab).

When she goes out, people hit on her as always and while she loves the attention, it just doesn't hit the same as all the adoration she's getting online. It's all she can think about, so she just twirls her hair and giggles, but she already forgot what anyone said to her. Her mind’s on her phone. Or her computer. And how she needs to check it.

But as much as she loves it, social media is so much work. Like yes she gets to flirt and be sexy but she also has to manage the accounts and check notifications and set up her cameras and microphones and she's just not about all that.

Almost by accident she realizes she's got a talent for coding. She'd always thought code was so logical (blegh!) but there really was an artistry to it. Especially when it's written in hot pink.

First she just writes small scripts to automate her work so she has more time for the parts she likes. But then she figures out how to write a cute little function to hide in the metadata of her pictures to manipulate the algorithm and put her on more people's feeds. And then she figures out how to remotely and automatically install things other peoples' computers and phones.

When she gets stumped, she just absentmindedly plays with her tits until she works it out. And when she finishes a project, she reaches under her skirt to reward herself.

And before she knows it, she's written the most perfectly seductive program, not just to make people see her posts, but to subtly influence them until they could never resist her when they do.

Making every color duller except pink. Imperceptibly at first, the gradually ramping up until it's the user's favorite color and they're not sure why. Changing the text suggestions and autocorrect to be dumber and sexier. Inserting subliminal messages into all videos, but especially their porn. And when they finally do inevitably come across her posts, making every notification from her just a bit more pleasant than the others. A warmer symbol, a brighter chime.

One thing leads to another until they message her. Because of course they do. She's the hottest thing they've ever seen. And then...

She moans. The girl eating her out under her desk is doing such a good job and it's becoming hard to focus on her code. Time to take a break.

She stands, and the brunette under her desk pouts at the separation. A few short months ago the kneeling slut was a graduate student. Now all she wants to do is worship the bimbo who moments ago was at the keyboard.

But the student wouldn't be pouting for long. They had her professor in the other room, who had recently become addicted to his phone after said student submitted a paper with that pretty little metadata. Time to go break him in like the others. It’s only right that she get to join in too.

[cafterdark]

You always struggled with doing tasks. Between the procrastination, executive dysfunction, and exhaustion, even cleaning the dishes was a herculean task. It got so bad that it started to affect your work, leading to a stern talk from your boss. That's why, when your friend Jess, told you about her job's, Auton Industries, new productivity improvement services, you were willing to give it a shot.

The tech itself was simple, just a pair of dark sunglasses, indistinguishable from any normal pair. When you put it on, it prompted you with the text "Unit 4372 Settings" and hundreds of sliders and buttons. It overwhelmed you, so you picked the default options. A nice ding played and the actual software began.

On the right side of your vision, a list of task crept down, tasks and subtasks ranging from "Clean Dishes (32)" to "Improve Health (15)." The glasses highlighted various objects, with commands like "Clean", "Move", "Throw Away." Every time you completed a task, the highlight went green and dissipated, a speaker whispering sweet encouragement into your ear, followed by the same soft ding.

Put away some loose papers.

"Good Job!" Ding!

Finally take out the trash

"Great Work!" Ding!

Vacuum the floors.

"Keep Going!" Ding!

Every time you completed a task, that little bit of encouragement, that pleasurable ding, sank into your chest, making you feel warm, even more, appreciated. It was a feeling no other job or hobby had ever given you. When you were done with all your tasks, the shower of praise and dings you got was intoxicating.

You didn't admit it, but it was addictive. Soon, you began chasing the high of completing tasks, a depression following after finishing. You felt so useful following its commands, so appreciated when reviving its praise. You started helping friends clean their houses, just to get more. When you cleaned Jess's house, she had this grin that said she knew, as impossible as that was. Something fluttered in your stomach as she observed your work, giving her own compliments on top of the glasses. By the end, you could hardly stand with how much appreciation you received.

After, a new notification popped up on your glasses as you put them on in the morning.

"Due to your overwhelming success with our program, Auton Industries extends the offer to join our Advance Productivity program."

Needless to say, you joined immediately, and after many, many lengthy terms of service signed, a new piece of tech was sent to your home.

It was a full face mask, the face impenetrable black glass that reflected yourself. The instructions were simple. You put the mask on before you went to bed, and took it off in the morning. While you slept, the mask would play subliminal messages that increased the effectiveness of the productivity training.

You expected strange dreams from it, but all that greeted you was some beeps and soft static. In the morning, you felt better rested than ever before. Your exhaustion was gone.

The effects were immediate. Each completed task's made you feel so appreciated, each compliment and ding rocking through your body. On top of the mask, the glasses had gotten an update, with a whole new host of compliments.

Get dressed for work

"Good girl!" Ding!

Clean morning dishes

"Good Unit!" Ding!

Any discomfort with the wording was washed away by the appreciation you felt. It was complimenting you! You were useful! That couldn't be bad. By the time you were done, you needed to change underwear, and any thought of taking them off for work was excised from your mind.

The rest of the update showed itself as you began your job. Tasks had been made specifically for your work, and even what to say on calls, something you always struggled with, was automated. You found it so easy to sink into a pleasurable trance, following what the glasses told you to, shaking with every compliment. By the end of the shift, you had gotten more work done that ever before, and even got appreciation from the boss.

This process of wearing the mask while you slept, glasses while you were awake continued. And despite a few occasions like accidentally almost wearing the mask to work, things were going great, it... you were feeling so appreciated. Jess checked in on you more, keeping track of your progress. She seemed overwhelming happy with the results, calling you one of their best units. Something about the way she said that made it you shiver.

Then one day, a new package arrived at the door. You didn't remember ordering it, but then again, you didn't remember a lot of stuff now days. You fell into a loving haze of appreciation and usefulness and let the programing command it you.

A new task popped up, top of the list, most important:

"Open Package"

You followed without question.

"Good Girl!" Ding!

Inside was a latex suit.

"Put On Uniform"

The suit slipped on like a glove, each part lovingly crafted for your body. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you noticed it was a lot curvier than you, a lot more feminine, but it was soon buried by:

"Good Unit!" Ding!

"Put On Headset"

"Good Unit!" Ding!

Silly you, you already had it on!

"Repeat"

"It is a good drone"

"It is a good drone," You said

Ding!

"It is a Useful drone."

"It is a useful drone."

Ding!

"It is an Appreciated Drone"

"It is an Appreciated Drone," it said.

Ding!

It shuttered

"Calibration Complete, State Designation."

"Unit 4372"

"Good Drone" Ding!

If it still had control of its body, its knees would've buckled.

"Assume Transportation Position"

It fell to its knees, arms crossing behind its back and locking.

"Wait for Unit's owner to arrive, repeat mantra."

"It is a good drone, it is an useful drone, it is an appreciated drone, it is a good drone..."

... ... ...

"So there she is."

"Owner Arrival Acknowledged, cease previous instructions."

Unit 4372 looked to the voice, and saw its owner. Something in the back of its systems screamed recognition, attempting to hijack its programing to give Owner a name. Something that started with a J, but a simple touch by Owner drowned it all away.

"My star unit," Owner said. "Look how you've turned out."

Unit 4372 squirmed. It was so appreciated, so useful

"Come on, let's get you home."

If it could, Unit 4372 would've smiled.

[honeytonedhottie]

Hey babes, I was just wondering if you have any methods for extreme saturation. I wanna program my brain into being delulu😋 luv your blog by the way! xoxo

heyyy so here are some suggestions 💭💕 for extreme saturation.

subliminals (stacked ofc) + robotically affirming through thinking + a frequency (4-8hz)

4-8hZ frequencies target ur subconscious better, subliminals also do that and ur saturating ur conscious mind with the robotic affirmations.

robotically affirming through writing + subliminals + a song

i always love to saturate my mind while im listening to music, and while my subliminal is also playing low in the background im getting double the saturation.

hot tip ; while saturating my mind i play a playlist because ik that once the playlist ends my saturation time will come to an end, it helps me to saturate longer. idk if that makes sense but it works for me…💬🎀

[bambisubliminalsofficial]

Get the full version of the song for free on my Patreon.

The brain processes music differently than spoken words. According to the latest findings in behavioral psychology, there are two systems in your brain. One processes things fast and subconsciously, and the other slowly but consciously. Music is proven to bypass your conscious level of thinking. Therefore, the subliminal messages can't be scrutinized by your conscious mind. This allows for deep behavioral reprogramming through subliminal messaging in music.

The file was designed to induce a general feeling of happiness and acceptance of Bambi. You will have the deep desire to give in to Bambi, be feminine and suck cock. The programming in this file is designed to slip by your conscious thinking. The more you listen to it, the deeper the suggestions will sink into you. The file will slowly condition you without you noticing it and before you realize it, it will be too late.

Disclaimer: Listen in a safe environment. Don't listen to this file if you have to focus on driving or operating other machinery. Stay safe and don't endanger yourself or others by listening to this file.