I just knew it.  I just knew.

The stars all aligned perfectly:  an entire long day alone, nobody expected me and nobidy knew, strong weed, and a naughty new outfit. This one was going to start at a state of mind-fucked, sexually-hyperactive feminization that I had never sustained before.  It had been weeks.  

I tranced and stoned last night in preparation, so I woke with a mild buzz.  Then a Hefty Pooh-sized brownie with breakfast (Note to self:  "Idiot!  There is left-over smoked salmon on a bagel!), followed by a vape at the apex of the brownie.  Life is good.

From somewhere my treacherous little hands embarked upon a project to load the audio file, "SISSY SLUT FOREVER."

My hands pressed, "PLAY."  Behind my eyes things slowed dramatically.  The audio file was mental honey being ooozed onto the sweet tooth of my psyche.  Every word was sexually hyper-charged with power.  Feeling myself slip into trance is a rare momentary pleasures, but in that time I recall feeling excited to recognize the file.  I settled under a soft pink veil of feminization...

...Did I mention a second Hefty Pooh brownie about an hour ago?  Yeah, I'm sort of waiting for the world to drop out from under me.  I estimate third-stage ignition in about ten minutes.  Stay tuned, folks, this may be interesting!

Oh, right!  So what "did I just know?"  I just knew that once I let myself slip into trance, that the results of today in particular would be to render being a sissy faggot transvestite a permanent condition.  Forever.  That was the mantra all morning - and from where and in this diction I cannot explain - "I was a sissy in all of my yesterdays.  I'm a sissy today.  Tomorrow will come."  The implication was that I was too dumb to understsand the concept of "future".  Dunno why.  It was profound at the time.

Update on possible collision of brownie planetoids:  I estimate that it has been about five minutes since I realized that I was due for a really good mind-fucking.  It is getting harder to type, but the horseshit is flowing nicely from my fingertips.

...and now, after about 35 minutes things seem to have plateaued somewhere in Dopey-DreamyLand.  I can type, but only if I assiduously don't try.  I feel like gender salad.  Stoned into sexual and emotional hyper-sensitivity.  When one is in the right mood, it can be glorious.  Today, I am.  It all feels so gentle, so tender, so inevitable, so forever.  Forever.  I knew it.