#and morpheus struggling to handle all of that in the best way

[just-french-me-up]

If you'd still like Dreamling kiss prompts, how about 7 or 17?

@martybaker asked : Hello, your fics are so lovely! May I humbly request ‘A kiss to shut them up’ if you’re still taking prompts? 👉👈 @anonymous asked : Thoughts on dreamling 7 or 17 (to shut them up or to distract - maybe even both at once?) for the kiss prompts?

We're shutting him up, yall! This is a Retired!Dream one, in which Dream struggles with the human body and human condition, and can't see how he can measure up to his old self in Hob's eyes. Angsty you say? Deceivingly horny I raise you! I kept this sorta M rated but... hey if there's more to come *winkwink* who knows?

The human body was a curious thing. It required constant attention, fluids, fuel, maintenance, care. And yet it was so... limiting. Morpheus could still remember how it felt, to think of a place and feel the ground shift under his feet without ever having to move. There had been no hunger then. No thirst. No itching, for his skin had never had the notion that it could be too dry.

If he had ever felt those things, it had been because he had chosen to.

Now the world imposed itself to him, there wasn't much of a choice.

Urges baffled him the most. The dryness coating his mouth on a particularly hot day, his mind conjuring up images of cold, condensation-weeping bottles. The drowsiness taking hold of him after dinner, weighing on his eyelids. The burning, devouring heat flaring in his abdomen as Hob would step out of the shower, a towel lazily tied around his hips, the line of hair trailing down his navel guiding Morpheus' gaze downwards.

It was a strange thing, to be overcome by such sensations. An infuriating thing, really. He ought to be able to resist them. He had been able to resist them, once, to ignore them, dismiss them into nothing if he so chose. How vexing it was, to be a creature of wants and needs, when your existence had been nothing but careful control.

He would not tell Hob, but he could not help but feel... lesser. How clever could his mind be, now that he only had access to his own? How good could his hands be, he who had been able to breathe life into dream clay, fashion lands and castles with a single thought? How pleasing could his touch be, now that he was barred from his lover's unconscious? How could he compare to who and what he had been, once?

They had not made love ever since his encounter with the Kindly Ones. Hob had never pushed, reading Morpheus far better than Morpheus ever could, now. There had been times, here and there, when Morpheus had thought they would, with lingering kisses growing deeper, embraces in bed tighter, but something had held him back. Some bitter gnawing feeling at the pit of his stomach. Yet another thing he could not seem to control.

Yet he wanted. Desperately, frustratingly so. The most mundane things would strike him as the most erotic sights he could fathom. Hob drinking his coffee in the morning, his Adam's apple bobbing as he'd swallow. Hob reading the day's papers, his gaze intent, focused. Hob reaching up to grab this or that from a cupboard, his shirt riding up and showing his navel, while his tired pajama bottoms hung from his hips, revealing the slight dips there, a hint of hair...

Morpheus' body would betray him often, subjecting him to fantasies and erections that, much like the rest, he held little control over. Unlike food, lust was a hunger he never seemed to satisfy. It only grew.

If Hob had ever caught him staring, he never said anything. Instead, he was highly skilled at noticing when Morpheus' mind would start spinning on itself, feeding the loop of existential dread looming over him. He had taken to giving Morpheus tasks, then, something to focus on. Although it would not quite clear the storm, it muffled it somewhat.

Perhaps he'd sensed another one of Morpheus' spirals that night, when his voice rose from the bedroom.

"Oh, bollocks! Love? Might need a hand here."

As he stepped inside the bedroom, Morpheus found Hob standing by the mirror, struggling with his button-up. He flashed a quick contrite smile at him, emphatically tugging at the fabric.

"Can't manage to button those buggers off," he explained.

"Allow me."

The human condition was one thing, but buttons he could handle. Morpheus' touch was methodical, surgical almost, as he focused on the task at hand, yet three buttons later, he could not help but feel his focus slip. He could feel Hob's warmth under his fingertips. His heartbeat. As he breathed in, Hob's scent filled his lungs, distracting him further. By the time he was done with the shirt, his mind had gone elsewhere.

Hob wore an undershirt, a thin, almost see-through thing. It required barely any effort to see his chest in spite of the fabric. Morpheus' eyes trailed down, heat flushing his cheeks. Mindlessly, his thumb traced the line of hair down Hob's abdomen, his mouth filled with want. He could feel hot breath against his lips. Humans were not meant to withstand such hunger.

They were kissing before Morpheus could articulate another thought, Hob's mouth warm and soft against his, the coarse brush of his stubble adding fuel to the fire overtaking him. No doubt Hob had meant for this to be tender, but Morpheus was famished, taking, and taking, and taking all that was offered until his lungs might explode. He found himself gasping against Hob, nose to nose, forehead to forehead.

"Hey," Hob whispered, gentle to a fault. "It's okay. There's no rush."

Morpheus swallowed hard, feverishly catching his breath. Hob's palm was invitingly cool against his cheek.

"I will keep," he continued. "We don't have to―"

"I want to," Morpheus rasped, weeks of frustration pushing the words out of him. "I want you. I just―"

"Just what?"

The patience in his voice was the lifeline Morpheus held onto as he sighed, embarrassment flooding through him.

"This form, it feels... finite. Flawed. Lacking."

Fallible, he did not say. He watched as Hob's eyes grew round, ridicule joining embarrassment.

"Duck―"

"I am not as I once was," he continued, overcome with the need to justify himself. "I am no longer suited to anticipate your every want. I can not satisfy you to the degree I once could. Everything I have to offer is bound to disappoint in comparison."

Hob's stare felt heavy, too heavy for Morpheus to hold, but as he looked away, Hob took his chin between his fingers, directing his gaze back to him.

"Love, I―. Sex is not about making some kind of... of ranking."

"Your unconscious would rank it, regardless."

"Fuck my unconscious. It's my conscious self who wants you, magic dick or not."

The corners of Hob's mouth twitched at his own joke, but seriousness soon took over.

"I love you," he said, prompting Morpheus to look away again. "I love you. I would love you Endless, I would love you human, I would love you if you were a tentacled monster and hell, you've been that before if you'd recall!"

Morpheus fought back the smile creeping up on his lips.

"I never cared how we'd fuck. Well, I did, but― I did because it was you. I wanted to be with you. I still do."

Hob sighed, and they stood in silence for a moment, looking at each other.

"At least now we know that mind of yours is well and truly yours and not a Dream of the Endless exclusive."

"An unfortunate discovery."

Hob's hand settled on Morpheus' waist, his thumb brushing the fabric of his shirt.

"I do want you," he said. "Whenever you're ready. If ever. But I don't want you holding back because you've convinced yourself I may not enjoy it well enough, according to some cosmic standard you've set for yourself."

Morpheus nodded slowly, his own thumb back to tracing the happy trail on Hob's stomach.

"I have always found you pleasing enough, after all," he dared, shooting a tentative look at Hob. "As human as you are."

Hob made a face, pulling him closer by the waist.

"Your compliments need work, duck. But I do think there's a silver lining to this whole human condition you are overlooking."

"Is that so?"

Hob smirked at him, fully conscious of how devilishly handsome that made him. He had had, after all, centuries to hone those skills. How long would it take him?

"You no longer have access to my unconscious, right?"

"I do not."

"Which means you can no longer anticipate my every want, as you said."

Now that was rubbing salt into the wound.

"Yes," he conceded with a frown.

"Well imagine how arousing it is, my love," Hob said, his eyes darker by the second, "to be able to surprise you."

A warm shiver went down Morpheus' spine, sending his pulse into a frantic race. He swallowed thickly, holding Hob's gaze.

"How arousing?"

"Very. Cock-achingly, one might say."

Morpheus glanced down, finding Hob's trousers tight, his hard cock pressing against the fabric, making his knees weak. The human body truly was weak in the most delicious way.

"I could dare you to surprise me," he teased back, his breathing loud in his ears.

"You could."

Gods, that mouth of his, Morpheus was quite certain he could be undone from that tone alone. But still.

"But should you find me displeasing, you ought to―"

The rest of his words were swallowed into a kiss, unheard and discarded, replaced by tender sighs and wanting hands, and after a while, Morpheus found he'd forgotten what they even were, his mind blissfully blank save for pleasure.

The human body was a curious thing. A highly pleasing thing, at times.

Send me a kissing prompt?

[orionsangel86]

I’m really sorry people are being dicks in your inbox.

Curious if you have thoughts you’d like to share on Facade (the story from Dream Country). I don’t think it’s going to get adapted: the show is sticking closer to Morpheus’s story and I feel like that would be incredibly difficult to adapt well both from the perspective of Rainie’s character design as well as handling the difficult subject matter. But that was a story that got very lodged in my brain and I returned to mulling it over for years and years after I read it.

Thanks! I was very touched by the number of lovely asks I received that day following the weirdness in my inbox!

Facade is a delicate issue, that covers some very delicate topics. I have read that a lot of people view it as one of their favourite Sandman comic issues, which I guess makes sense if you relate heavily to concepts like isolation, loneliness, suicide ideation and putting on masks to hide your true identity... I'm not sure if the show will adapt it or not, but seeing as I view it as an early foreshadowing of the end of the Kindly Ones I would be interested to see if they DO adapt it. I agree that Rainie's character design will be difficult to bring into live action - but then I think the same thing about the entirety of Orpheus' arc, as well as quite a lot of A Game of You, so I doubt its impossible and they will figure out some way to do it if they truly want to.

I can't say that I personally enjoyed Facade all that much. I struggle with the topics mentioned above, and I'm very much of the view that life is always worth living and can always improve (aka the Hob Gadling outlook of life). Unless you are in constant agony all the time and have absolutely zero quality of life... but I don't want to turn this post into a debate about assisted suicide. I didn't view Rainie's situation as one that was worth dying over. She wasn't in agony, she was just lonely. She clearly didn't have a support network and even her only friend was more interested in talking about her own predicament as the pregnant mistress of a married man than to take any time to find out how Rainie was doing - partially because Rainie would not remove her masks (metaphorical and literal) to reveal just how badly she was struggling... anyone who has read through to the end of the Kindly Ones now may start to see the similarities.

There are so many themes to explore in this issue that tie into the wider themes of the overall story. She did not want the power she received, instead it was thrust upon her by an ancient god as part of some ancient battle that was already long since over. So the role she was literally created for was already redundant. Ra not realising this - because the old gods are still so set in their ways and in the Sandman universe this is partially the reason why they are slowly dying out (take characters like Pharamond for example who learned to adapt and change with the times therefore ensuring his own survival) - is just another example of how change and accepting the changing times of the world benefits everyone. Rainie was just another victim in the chaotic world of gods and monsters and powerful entities that care so little about the lives of the mortals they affect. So now she is stuck with a power she did not want or ask for, for a purpose that was over 3000 years before she was born.

I also found this issue to be the best example of how Death is not an entirely good character (as people often attempt to make her). She is completely and utterly neutral in all ways (the true neutral on the alignment chart should always go to Death imo). Whilst Death does try at first to get Rainie to see a brighter side, she doesn't exactly put in much effort, and in the end she gives her the information she needs to get what she wants, though I note that Rainie does NOT ask Ra to kill her, she asks him to make her normal again, though I think the point of it is to show that deep down her wish was just to die at that point, but I guess that's up for interpretation. Death is just that. Death. She is not the person to talk you off the ledge. She is the person who will be there for you after you jump. She saw that Rainie was in a terrible place, and she decided to be there for her whilst she made those decisions. But Death isn't really going to convince you either way. "your life is your own Rainie, so is your death."

I also note that the show used some of Death's speech in this episode in episode 6 when she is talking with Dream, so that's also worth considering when speculating on whether they will adapt Facade or not.

I think for the comic its an important issue and ties in heavily with the comic themes, but as I have often said, the show appears to be taking a different direction, and I don't think Facade fits with the more hopeful, optimistic route that they are taking. But we shall see.

[darklinsblog]

Sweet Distraction | Chapter V

Summary: Given your argument with the Lord of Dreams, Jessamy and Lucienne decide to be conciliators in the discussion.

Pairing: Dark! Morpheus x Human! Reader

Chapter List

Author’s note: I truly had no intention of posting today but I was out for most part of the day and I was inspired so enjoy, lovelies!

Ever since Morpheus had called you a slut, things had been different. All the progress you seemed to have made before, vanished. You didn’t speak a word about it, wanting anything but to draw unnecessary attention. In many ways, you both shut down.

You went deathly silent because you didn’t wish to speak words you didn’t mean and aggravate the situation further. In your heart, you knew he didn’t mean what he had said, it was just his anger and frustration speaking, but that didn’t brought you any comfort whatsoever, because he still said it and it still hurt.

This made your sexual encounters tense as well, you wouldn’t speak a single word, not even dared to say his name, you just complied to whatever he wanted and hurried away of the room as soon as you were done.

Morpheus wished to stop you many times, but the embarrassment was too much to handle, so he found a refuge in his duties as king.

Jessamy, Morpheus’ loyal raven had found you once or twice, crying on the palace corridors, she felt sorry for you, truly. You seemed so kind and fragile, she regretted that you would have to silence your pain.

She started approaching you, sometimes she would stand in the book you were reading so you could pet her head, drawing your attention out of your darkest thoughts.

Lucienne too, wasn’t a fan of the situation. She had a great esteem for you, and you were so selfless and hardworking. But she knew the king well enough at this time she knew the Dream Lord was simply hiding, too proud to admit his own fault.

Behind your back, Lucienne and Jessamy came to an agreement to conciliate the situation, setting you up at the library so you could not escape one another.

“I’ll return shortly” Lucienne told you heading off, you hummed in response and just as she reached the door Jessamy appeared. Both of them shared a knowing glance before the librarian left, leaving the door slightly open.

Enough for someone to push it and come in. Jessamy took a deep breath before heading to you, at the sight of her you smiled.

“Hello Jessamy” you greeted her, nuzzling her bright red chest, the bird responded flapping her wings and undertaking her flight above your head, you giggled and stood up from your seat following the raven in her playful demeanor.

“What’s gotten into you, Jessamy?” You teased, too caught up in admiring her to notice the King of Dreams entering and crashing into you. When you looked up at him, your face fell and he seemed ashamed in response, Jessamy then placed herself in Morpheus’ shoulder and looked between the two of you, quietly wondering you would continue to act like fools.

The tension was suffocating you and you decided it was best if you left, Morpheus shared a look with Jessamy.

“You know you must apologize, my lord��� Jessamy said, making Morpheus take a deep breath and grab your wrist before you could escape.

“I want to… apologize for what I said” the words struggled to come out, but at last they did, he could feel your eyes burning in him. It took all his willpower to actually look up at you.

“It was uncalled for me to take out my frustrations on you, and calling you as I did” he didn’t even want to pronounce the insult he had spoken, it was vicious and disturbing.

“I accept your apologies, my king” you spoke softly but truthfully, he could see in your eyes that you were forgiving him, even when he perhaps wasn’t worthy of such thing, but your forgiveness did lift a weight off his shoulders.

Soon, Jessamy and Morpheus resumed their duties and you occupied yourself with arranging Lucienne’s desk, exactly how she liked it.

You were humming on the low as Lucienne almost magically appeared.

“I see your mood has brighten, miss” she couldn’t conceal the smile that played in her lips, and you smiled as well, connecting the dots.

“You had something to do with this, didn’t you?” You teased her and she looked away

“I have no idea what you mean” she played dumb, but you both knew the truth, and you were quietly grateful for the intervention.

Early morning came along, and you finally heard a click on the door. Oddly enough, you couldn’t sleep, an anxious, foreign feeling invaded you, it was like some sort of gut feeling that something terrible was approaching, which made no sense, but you couldn’t shake away the preoccupation.

Morpheus sat beside you, seeing you were awake, you sat up straight in his presence.

“Is everything truly forgiven between us? If you still feel some form of resentment towards me, you may speak it” he said, it was important for him to know there were no grudges, because Morpheus didn’t mean to cause you any distress, the voice with which he spoke made your heart fluttered.

He appeared so much vulnerable in this light, and with everything going on in his head, you appreciated he took your feelings into consideration. Sure, he may not have the best forms of expression, he struggled, a lot.

But his heart was always in the right place, which was one of the things you loved most about the king. You reached out to him, cupping his cheek in your delicate hand, your touch sending shivers down his spine.

“Water under the bridge, my lord” you reassured him, he smiled weakly.

“I would be more comfortable if you called me by name, when we’re alone” he said, your eyes glistened. Him allowing you to call him by name during sex was one thing, but this was a different domain. He was allowing you to address him in a personal manner whenever you were alone, which for the Lord of Dreams was a huge step for him, and it felt good that he gave you that vow of confidence.

“Very well, Morpheus…” you said, almost savoring how his name rolled out your tongue, he personally adored it.

You stared at each other, almost frozen in time. Then his eyes fell on your lips, thinking of how badly he wanted to kiss you right now, when looking back up he could see you wanted the same.

Rather slowly, he closed approached you and you mimicked his actions, like two magnets drawn to each other, incapable of avoiding the coalition.

His soft lips crashed into yours and he took the initiative to draw you closer by the waist, his tongue entered your mouth and you created a slow rhythm as you kissed.

This didn’t feel like other times he kissed you, you didn’t felt the urge or blinding lust, this felt more cautious, innocent even. Like two young lovers sharing their very first kiss.

Perhaps you were crazy, caught up in the moment, but you could swear this kiss came from a place of love.

A knock on the door completely disrupted the atmosphere, you both jumped slightly, Morpheus licked his lips while you looked away, blushing madly.

The Endless cleared his throat before going to attended the door, from where you were standing you could see Lucienne at the door frame.

“I’m sorry my lord, but the Corinthian is causing disturbances in the Waking World”

It was beyond words to explain the suffocating anxiety that came over you as you heard Lucienne’s words, something didn’t sit right with you. This wasn’t the first time Morpheus’ nightmare was on the loose and he came back every time.

“I have to attend this…” he apologized, you smiled weakly and he kissed your cheek softly.

“I will return shortly”

“You promise?”

“I promise”

You were certain he was being sincere, but why did it feel like you wouldn’t see him in a long time?

Tag list: @boofy1998 @meganmayhem89 @sandmanraven @deniixlovezelda @maramunsonkay @theamuz @pinksirensong @majorcath

[thenightling]

Friends in the Dark (A Sandman fan fiction)

Friends in the Dark:

Disclaimer:  This is a Sandman fan fiction.  The Sandman belongs to Neil Gaiman and DC Comics.

This fan fiction is inspired by the currently circulating idea of Hob actually being the one to rescue Morpheus from his imprisonment after Morpheus misses their centennial meeting.   In the new Netflix Sandman series Morpheus’ captivity has been extended from seventy-two-years to about a hundred and ten years.  That means Morpheus would have missed his annual meeting with Hob Gadling.

  Art work by @artwinsdraws​​ 

  This fan fiction may be read as a pseudo-sequel to the fan fiction titled “Time will Crawl” however, this fan fiction can be read completely on its own without any difficulty.  

 The title is from a song that technically doesn’t exist yet except in the dreams of Aurelio Voltaire.  The lyrics are currently housed in the library of The Dreaming but should reach The Waking World within the next year.  I know them because I heard a short live version of the refrain on Youtube.  

 “You can sit in the cold dark night, And just hope for a spark. You might make your way in the day, But you’ll need friends in the dark.” – Lyrics by Voltaire.  

   Friends in the Dark

 Friends in the Dark

  Chapter 1:

 Friends will be friends:

               “What do you mean you can’t find him?”

           “I mean... If he is who I think he is, he will only be found if he wants to be found.” The old man replied in a tone that sounded like an effort at gentleness.  

           “I didn’t tell you he was anyone other than my friend.” Robert Gadling said in exasperation. He was tired and frustrated.   The man he was talking to was supposed to be the best in his field.

           “Look, the man you described…  He’s not quite a man.   He’s… How do I put this?  He’s the Oneiromancer.  He’s Morpheus.   King of Dreams and Nightmares.  And if you angered him-“

           “I may have wounded his pride but I know him.  I know he would have come.”

           “How can you be so certain?”’

           “I told you, he’s my friend.”

           “Creatures like that don’t have any friends.”

           “If you can’t help me just say so and stop wasting my time.” Robert said in annoyance.

           The man sighed.  “You don’t have anything that belongs to him.   If you had something maybe we could cast a tracking spell, but he could obscure himself against things like that if he doesn’t want to be found.”

           The man’s expression changed.  It was subtle but it was troubling.

           “What?  What is it? There’s something you’re not telling me.” Robert said.

           “No one’s seen The Sandman in over a century…  There are rumors from The Underworld that something may have happened…”

           Robert was growing impatient and now worried.  Few things could really surprise him and right now he felt like he could be told anything and handle it in some stride.  He reached into his old coat and pulled out the torn fabric of dark velvet Victorian Jacket.

           “What is that?”

           “I accidentally tore it from his coat when he was having his little tantrum the last time we spoke.  Is that enough to track him with?”

           “And you kept it all this time?”

“At the time I worried I’d never see him again.  …I thought it might be the only memento, proof he was real…”  He felt silly and sentimental.  

“So there is a chance he’s deliberately avoiding you?”

Robert’s face was reddening.  “Look, I haven’t survived seven-hundred-years purely on my good looks.  I trust my instincts.  If he doesn’t want to see me, fine, but I have to see him first.  I have to know for sure.”  

Saying something like that to anyone else might have looked completely insane but Robert Gadling knew the old magicks.  He understood sorcery and he knew the old man was aware of his true age.  

Robert (Hob) Gadling had been born in the fourteenth century of England.  He looked like the average middle aged man but he had long ago decided not to die and had somehow succeeded in this endeavor, whether by sheer will, or the invention of Death herself, it was hard to say. But he believed it was by his own will that he refused to die.  At least that was the explanation that enabled him to sleep easily at night. Death, on the other hand, knew better…

 Currently Robert was clean shaven though he had worn facial hair in the past.  He had light brown hair and brown eyes.  He was light skinned as many English men of his original time were.  He figured he was a little short by modern standards but that didn’t bother him.   He had been tall by common standards in his own time.   He wondered how strange he’d seem in other people the centuries to come.  

Robert (or Hob as he was sometimes known by those old enough to remember Hob as a nickname for Robert) was wearing fairly mundane clothes.  He had a plain button down shirt and blue jeans. The clothes were generic enough that he could have been wearing them in the nineteen sixties or nineteen nineties and no one would have questioned it as being out of place.   You live long enough and you learn what fashions will survive multiple decades without too much scrutiny.  And it becomes far, far easier to do simple clothing shopping.  

 During Hob’s last encounter with his friend, Hob had made the bold move of admitting to Morpheus that he knew the reason they met every century was because he (Morpheus) was lonely.

  Morpheus had not taken that well at all. In fact Morpheus had taken offense to that notion.  With his pride wounded, Morpheus had said “You dare?  You dare imply I might befriend a mortal? That one of my kind might NEED companionship?  You dare to call me lonely?”  

Hob was not technically mortal.  He had not been mortal in a very long time but his friend had a way of looking at anyone who had been born human (even if they became something else, or gained immortality) as “mortal.”   His prejudice was showing along with wounded pride.  

Hob had stood his ground.  “Yes. Yes, I do.”

As Morpheus had stormed off in his anger Hob had called after him.  “Tell you what.  I’ll be here in a hundred years’ time.   If you’re here then, too-- It’ll be because we’re friends.  No other reason.  Right?  …Right?”

 At the time he had feared Morpheus might not return for their centennial meeting. He hoped he would return.  But Hob had also feared Morpheus would not.  

 Hob felt foolish and almost like a stalker in wanting to track him down now but his seven-hundred-year-old instincts were telling him that something was wrong.  And if Morpheus was avoiding him he would apologize and they could go their separate ways once and for all but if there was another reason…  He had to know for sure…  He needed… closure at the very least.

       The older looking man was starting to look thoughtful.  “You keep things like this and out-right say the Lord of Dreams was having a temper tantrum?” The old wizard let out a wheezing laugh.  Perhaps he was reading Hob’s thoughts, his very memory of the last time he and his friend had spoken and parted ways.  

“If you’re not his friend you’ve got balls.”  He shook his head.  “Even if you are his friend you’ve got balls…   Follow me.” He seemed to admire Hob on some level and this shifted into respect.

             Hob and the old wizard walked from the dimly lit, and very cluttered, occult shoppe’s main room.  They entered a private back room that served as a magical laboratory.   The laboratory was no less cluttered than the main part of the shoppe.  There were books in chaotic little stacks and piles.  There were bottles of potions and powders on the shelves in a variety of colored jars and containers.  Some glass, some modern plastic Tupperware and labeled with white tape or stickers with writing done in black, felt-tip, marker.  There were odds and ends of magical trinkets and crystals.   And on the far side of this room was a small “hot plate” device plugged into the wall with a rather large cooking pot on top of it.   A make-shift modern cauldron.

           The old man carried the torn, old, velvet over to the cauldron and took up a crystal that was wrapped in a black cord.  He set to work on the tracking spell.   The contents of the cauldron, which was murky and brown, began to bubble from the heat and then the bubbles began to rapidly and probably unnaturally increase.   The crystal was spinning, spinning faster and faster as it dangled from the black cord.  

           Something was reaching its crescendo.  

             The old wizard set down the crystal on the edge of the cooking pot with the cord it was attached to.

           He grabbed Hob’s arm. “GET DOWN!”

           Hob had lived long enough to not question the command and instead, by pure reflex, descended into a crouch under the wooden table with the old man.  There was a crashing sound as bits and pieces of crystal went flying everywhere.  

           “Gadzooks, Man!   ...That’s not good, is it?” Hob asked, stating the obvious as he slowly lowered his arms from where they were over his head to protect against crystalline shrapnel.

           The old man shook his head and politely seemed to ignore the near-comedic use of an archaic exclamation.  “He’s either blocking the spell or-“

           “Or someone’s blocking it for him…”

 __________________________________________________

  Chapter 2:  

 Time:

             Time will crawl…  And crawl, and crawl, and crawl…

 Come!  Come! Come!  

 Morpheus had felt the words as surely as he heard them, faint and echoing in the void. Old magick.  It had felt it like a tugging at his very soul.  He was too weak to resist the pulling that dragged him down, down, down…  Forcibly pulling at his essence.  

 He had fallen forward and slammed into hard flooring.  He had been disorientated at the sudden presence of gravity.  He could feel the magick of the binding circle sealing him in, closing him off from all those who had a psychic link with him within his realm.  He saw them, the mortal occultists, in their dark robes, as they moved to get a closer look at their prisoner.  They moved like a swarm of insects.  He blinked his completely-black eyes behind the tinted lenses of his helm. The tiny star pupils being the only hint that there was more than mere darkness to be seen in his eyes.

  He lay there, stunned and …and so very tired…  He had never felt so weary in his long life…   He had struggled so hard against the summoning magick and after that he could barely keep his eyes open.  Someone had grasped at the helm he wore.  Someone grabbed at it with both hands. Someone tipped his head, against his will, to carefully remove the helm.  They took full advantage of his weakness and disorientation.  Someone pulled the helm free from his head.  He had felt his own dark fall around his bone-white face. His cloak was taken. Without the cloak he actually felt the cool, damp of the cellar in English summer time. Never mind about the cloak.  That could easily be replaced.  He could conjure another… as soon as he was free he could conjure another...  

 He blinked.  The ruby amulet was snatched and finally the pouch of infinite dream sand was snatched away. The pouch was something he loathed to be without.  He felt more naked without that pouch than without raiment.  That he could not allow.  He summoned what strength he had left and sat up to reach for the pouch. He stopped as if there was an invisible wall in front of him.  He could not pass the edge of the magical binding circle, which was on the ground around him, and he knew it.  His belongings were just out of reach…

The attempt to cross the circle was as impossible as asking a mortal simply leap over a building.  It was just impossible for him.  

 So tired… So very tired… The room was growing dim and the floor was strangely inviting.   He fainted…

    That was as close as he had ever gotten to true sleep.  He did not, by nature, sleep…    

 Trapped. Observe.  Threats.   Patience.   Patience…   Patience…

 It had been many years since that first night in nineteen sixteen…

 When Roderick Burgess had died not much had changed for Morpheus.  Roderick’s son, Alexander, was the one holding him captive now.

  At some point, relatively recently, he had over-heard someone mention the year as being twenty nineteen.  

  Morpheus made no show of his feelings to his captors. He simply sat there on the floor of his crystalline cage, staring out at the two guards.

           In nineteen sixteen The Dream Lord had been drawn down, summoned and trapped with their (as he saw it) “petty hedge-magicking.”   What year was it now?   Close to twenty-twenty, he suspected.  It was hard to tell.  

 Mortals tend to have this naive fantasy that time moves differently for creatures such as himself, being ageless and (for all intents and purposes) immortal. Unfortunately that was not the case.

If only he could just blink and it would seem a century had passed.   No. Sadly, this fantasy was merely that, a fantasy.  As mortals age they perceive time differently from when they were children.   In childhood summers would seem to go on and on. As adults, however, whole decades seemed too short and so they imagine that is how time must be for immortals, an ever increasing sense that this or that passage of time was too short and so nothing to them.  If only that was the case…

 No. He felt time. He felt time the way mortals do.  Time moved no differently for his kind as it does for mortals.  And in prison it crawled at a snail’s pace.  Perhaps it was even worse for him because, as the living embodiment of dreams, he usually did not sleep.  That meant the third of the day that human prisoners could escape their bonds by entering his realm, he could do no such thing.  There was no relief.

             Imprisoned time moved agonizingly slow, like the crawling of a snail.  And unlike mortals he did not have that blessed release of sleep.  He was, after all, the lord of Dreams.   He never dreamed, himself…  

           No. He never dreamed.  All he could do was remember…

             He remembered his own wounded pride on the night he stormed off from his friend. How he longed to set that right.

         He sat on the floor of the crystalline cage that they had long ago placed around him.  The curved glass of his crystal prison reminded him of a fortune teller’s crystal ball only just big enough to hold a full-sized human man.  How menacing the mortals managed to seem when looming over him, just outside of the crystal, where light and size were distorted from his quartz-crystal prison and shadows hung heavy over the glass.  

 Quartz crystal has innate power.  It could contain and confine magick.  It held him as surely as the binding circle around his cage- as firm and unyielding as stone or steel to a mortal’s prison.  

 The mortal captors had been clever to make his cage out of crystal.  Everyone knows most mineral and glass come from sand. Burnt and reshaped sand.  The thing that he used to sculpt dreams now worked to trap him.  

The binding circle that they had drawn on the floor held his spiritual essence while the crystalline prison held his physical form.  Both of these traps would need to be broken or opened for him to be able to truly escape.

 He was hungry.  They had never thought to feed him in all the years he had been their prisoner.  They just assumed that he did not need food. And he did not need it per se.  He would not die without food but he still felt hunger, nevertheless.  A great and terrible, gnawing hunger.   And he was not about to ask for food.  He was far too proud for that.  And he would not give them the satisfaction to show them that he suffered for not eating. It would not kill him but he still suffered for it.

He tried not to think about the hunger, that aching, hollow feeling chewing away within himself.  Eager to eat just about anything.  Even a baked potato would have been nice.  Do the English still bake potatoes? He wondered.

He could imagine the taste.  The potato’s skin cooked so thoroughly that it was like parchment around the soft white inside that could be crushed by the pressing of a fork.  Flavored with salt, pepper, butter, sour cream.  Perhaps some mild cheddar cheese and crushed bacon…

He wasn’t one for heavy meals but this simple one that he imagined seemed divine.  He could practically taste it.  No.  He would go mad if he let himself think about the hunger too long.   Try to think about something else…

 He thought of Hob.  He thought of the smell of the Kerosene lamps and the candle wax in the late Victorian pub. The strange sense of warmth and that feeling that was the direct opposite of being lonely.  He missed that warmth.  That sensation of… not-lonely.  

He missed Hob…  

He thought of his own wounded pride.  The anger he had felt when Hob had suggested that they (Hob and Morpheus) were friends.   How foolish he had been to not return to Hob sooner.  Would he ever see his friend again?  

He longed to set things right- to do or say something subtle to admit to Hob that he was right without actually saying the words that his pride did not want him to speak out loud.   He thought of the clever ways he could perhaps acknowledge that yes, they were, in fact, friends without uttering an apology or acknowledgement of being wrong.   He couldn’t dare admit, even to himself, that he was wrong.  And it was Hob’s own fault, wasn’t it?  He was the one who had to spoil things.  He was the one who had to go and poke at the situation and demand confirmation.  Why did he have to spoil it by making him have to call their situation a friendship?

He missed him so much…

  Morpheus blinked.  He was no longer in the pub, storming away from Hob.  He could no longer taste the discarded wine still on his lips.  His memories were as vivid and real to him as dreams are for most people.  It was as close as he could get to dreaming… remembering…

He was back in his cage.  Staring at the two guards just beyond the glass.

             What time was it?  Guessing from the two particular guards and the wrist watch that one of them wore, it was close to three in the afternoon.  It was hard to tell from his little prison.  He had not seen the sun (or stars) in over a century.      

           If only he could sleep as mortals sleep.   If only he could experience that sweet, temporary release, just once. To simply know what it was like to lose oneself to a third of the day in The Dreaming…  Mortals had no idea of the treasure that they had, the gift that he, himself, usually provided.  A gift that he, himself, could never know… had never known… ________________________________________________

  Chapter 3:

 What Dreams may come:

 Hob Gadling pulled to the side of the road, in the red nineteen seventy-three MGB convertible.  He had owned this particular automobile since the days when it was new.  Today he figured it would be considered a classic. Yeah, a classic, all right… Polished up nice but rusted in all the important areas and a serious petrol guzzler.   The car looked nice but it was about as functional as any old jalopy or puddle jumper.   He only chose it today because it was a car he wouldn’t mind abandoning in a field if he had to.  

             He was parked about a quarter of a mile from Fawny Rig in Wych Cross, Sussex England.  The paperback copy of an occultist’s memoir sat on the passenger seat beside him.   It was some self-published nonsense about The Order of Ancient Mysteries but it was Hob’s first real clue about what happened to his friend.

             For over thirty years he had searched.   And he had found one dead end after another, including a few attempted cons and scams from people who thought they could take advantage of a mad man trying to find a character from a faery tale.  

             The book had been the first major clue.  It had been written by some dead occultist who had claimed that he and the rest of his order had succeeded in invoking and trapping the King of Dreams.  The book had been vague and full of strange claims about archaic powers and curses and nonsensical and far-fetched boasts about demon invocations and boogeymen.

He would not have believed any of it until he had read the description of the creature they had caught. The bone-white flesh, the solid black eyes, the messy dark hair.  It had to be him.  It just had to be.

              The book hadn’t said where they had captured the being (whom Hob angry noticed they kept calling “it” when referencing the capture) but Hob had learned that The Order of Ancient Mysteries was once run by a Magnus Roderick Burgess and this had been his home estate. It now belonged to his son, Alexander Burgess, whom he had fathered very late in life.  Alexander would have been quite old by now, himself.  

If they had him, his friend- if they had Morpheus- what were they going to do to him? Pass him along through the generations like some strange inherited pet?  Who would get him next?  The butler? As far as he knew Alexander Burgess had no children of his own.  Would they seal up whatever dungeon they had him in and leave him to rot?

           This was still a long shot but Hob had to know.  If he was there he couldn’t just leave him at the mercy of these charlatans.  And if Hob got arrested for this- well, breaking-and-entering was not the worst crime he had ever been arrested for.  He could handle it.  

Hob took the old colt revolver out of the glove compartment.  This was also an antique and would have been difficult to smuggle into England today but he had brought it into the country in eighteen ninety-one, so it was long before modern firearm restrictions, and back when smuggling was far easier.

 Hob had lead a very colorful and long life.  At one point he had even been a slave trader, something that Morpheus, himself, had chastised him for.   Hob regretted that now.  He regretted that more than anything. He would spend the rest of eternity making reparations for that if he could.  How could he have ever been so callous to another human life?  

Morpheus had seemed so revolted.  “You take pride in treating your fellow humans as less than animals?” he had him.

Hob had tried to shrug it off with “Like I said, it’s a living.”

But Morpheus would not let it be.  “It is a poor thing, to enslave another.  I would suggest you find yourself a different line of business.”

Morpheus was right.  It was wrong to hold another like that. And if Morpheus was in there he had to get him out now.          

           Hob checked to make certain the colt revolver pistol was still loaded.  Each chamber of the six shooter held an old bullet. He had tested it only the night before to make certain it still fired.  He loathed the idea of having to use it but he knew it would be stupid to go in unarmed, especially since he didn’t practice magick, not really.  All he could do was hope a pistol was enough.

               _____________________________________________

 Chapter 4:  

 Locked within the crystal ball:

              It was early evening.  It was hard to tell from where he sat on the floor of his cage but he knew it was early evening.  One guard was reading a newspaper.  The other had a Stephen King novel.  Though Morpheus knew nothing of the technology, the men knew that their wifi devices would not work down there.  The rural setting combined with the thick stone walls made it impossible to get a good signal in that dungeon of a cellar.  

           There was also the concern of the residual yet powerful magick in the air, which by its very nature, interfered with sensitive electronics and could even cause them to short out.  They had been specifically ordered not to use their mobile devices down there and so they had to kill time through other means.

             Morpheus watched them with cold contempt.  He was measuring how long it took for the one with the novel to turn his page.  The other occasionally fidgeted.  Morpheus could tell by the man’s eye movements that the fidgeting one was not actually reading the newspaper.

The man was just seeking out a long word to play a childhood game of seeing how many smaller words he could make with the letters of the longer word he found. It was some kind of time-killer he had learned from spending too many childhood hours in doctor’s offices before wide-spread cellphone and Internet service.  

             Morpheus understood nothing of Internet, or mobile phones, but he understood the restlessness of a bored mortal.  How often did these restless people eventually drift into his own realm when they got like that?  He almost felt jealous of the bored mortal.

             There was a noise from above.  It was faint as the walls were designed to be soundproof but even in his magick resistant prison Morpheus could hear the scuffle.

           “Hey!  You’re not supposed to be here!  What are you doing!?”  Came one voice.   There was a sound of crashing furniture.

           “Someone get Maguire!”

             The two guards finally realized something was amiss when the door to the hidden room opened with a heavy creaking sound.

           The one set down his paper, the other- almost in unison-set down his novel. They stood up from their folding chairs.

                         At first Morpheus thought he had been psychically touched by his youngest sister, little Delirium, and madness was finally upon him or perhaps his memories were somehow seeping into reality, confusing past for present like psychic imprints and echoes of long ago events.  

He stared in wonder at the familiar yet disheveled appearance of Hob Gadling.

            Hob was wearing a casual suit and open, light colored blazer jacket.  It was slightly rumpled, as if he had been wearing it for more than twenty-four-hours and rather restlessly.

           Morpheus was not aware that the suit was over thirty-years-old and very likely the suit Hob had worn to the pub for their centennial meeting that he was now extremely late for.  

Whether consciously or subconsciously, Hob had (on some level) chosen to wear this suit on purpose now.  

 Morpheus hadn’t even noticed that he, himself, had risen to his feet.  The guards rushed toward the man who seemed both frightened yet determined.

 _____________________

  Chapter 5: The Rescue:

 As Hob had raced down the stone staircase, hoping his gut instincts were right, he nearly couldn’t breathe once he entered the dimly lit room.  He was panting for breath but then the shock of what he saw caused what air was there to get caught in his throat.

There were two men rising from folding chairs to meet and / or attack him- more likely the latter.  And behind them, just barely in view… There he was!  Naked and locked inside what looked like a ridiculously over-sized, novelty, snow globe paperweight.

 Hob couldn’t hold back a gasp when he saw him.  “Gadsbudikins!”  He was glad no one was there to comment on the archaic exclamation that had worked its way into his, proudly modern, vocabulary.  

He had never seen Morpheus in such a state.  He knew his friend was skinny and pale but to see him like this was something all-together different.  

Morpheus was emaciated.  The ribs protruding so that he could see each one incased in milk-white skin.  He was entirely naked.   He knew his friend’s pride.  He could only guess at the humiliation that, alone, must have brought to him.  How long had he been in there?  Whether a day or a century, ether was too damn long.        

            He was distracted briefly by the pitiful sight so he was caught off guard by the punch from the first guard. The other guard was trying to grab his arm.  

           Morpheus was barely aware he had placed a hand to the cold, crystalline, glass. When was the last time he had actually touched the wall of his cage?  He didn’t leave any fingerprints as he did this.  

             In the struggle the first man, the one who had thrown the punch, pulled a knife.   Morpheus’ own expression had shifted to one of genuine fear for Hob.

             He watched helplessly as the knife pierced the belly of his friend.

           There was a clanking sound as the bloodied weapon fell to the floor.  

Hob doubled over in pain.  For a brief moment Morpheus thought he was witnessing his friend’s corporeal end from this extended life- but no.  His older sister, Death, had seen to this long ago.  

           Hob was in considerable pain but he struggled his way free and staggered back into the mouth of the entrance into the hidden chamber.  One of his hands held his wounded belly, the shirt slowly becoming saturated in his red blood.  

           A well dressed, older looking, man was coming down the stairs, following the same path Hob had taken.  The two guards were readying the next assault when Hob turned, and fumbling, he drew out his pistol.  His hands were shaking but he managed to steady himself.    

             Paul Maguire (husband to Alexander Burgess, Morpheus’ owner…) raised his hands slightly and took a step back. “Sir, I don’t know what you want but the police have been called.” Paul bluffed.

           “With what you’ve got down here?   Yeah, right.  Tell me another one.   I’m taking him out of here.  If anyone tries to make a move…”

Hob was improvising.  He grabbed Paul and drew him close, holding the pistol to the side of Paul’s head, maneuvering to separate himself from the guards by using Paul as a shield.  Hob had lived many lives, not all of them honorably, and this was not his first unfair fight.

           “You’re going to open that…  Whatever the Hell that is.   And let my friend out.”

           “Your friend…?” Paul asked in confusion.

           “Did I stutter?!?”  Hob had always wanted to deliver that line, or at least he had ever since he had seen it written on a meme on Facebook.  “YOU HEARD ME!  Now!”

                Paul carefully, slowly, drew out an antique looking key from his pocket, moving very slowly to show he was not armed, and with trembling hand passed the key to the second guard.  The one that had not punched or stabbed Hob.

           Morpheus took a step back.

The guard walked to the crystalline cage and put the key into the discrete lock in the base.   The crystalline glass slid away at a near invisible seam, creating an opening.  Hob shoved Paul, forcibly, back against the first guard.   He walked to the cage’s opening.  He saw Morpheus just standing there.  He took off his own jacket for modesty’s sake.  “It’s all right.  I’m getting you out of here.  Come on.”

           Hob’s foot lightly brushed over the binding circle.  It was hard to tell if it was deliberate or not but the deed was done, the circle was breached.

           Morpheus stepped toward him.  And for the first time in over a century he spoke out loud.  His voice partly psychic, heard in the mind and audible at the same time, seemed feeble and weak from lack of use.  “Hob…?  Hob Gadling?” he asked as if not entirely certain he was really there.

           “Yeah.  It’s gonna be all right.   Come on.”

             The two guards and Paul seemed uncertain of what to do next.  They hadn’t exactly fully prepared for anything like this despite the years of meticulous care to make sure the prisoner did not escape.

           As soon as Morpheus was out of the cage and past the edge of the binding circle, Hob draped his jacket over his narrow shoulders.  

“Cheese and crust!  What did they do to you?”

           Morpheus opted against answering but he held the offered jacket tightly over himself.

Hob, holding the pistol in one hand, placed his other arm around Morpheus, escorting him up the stairs and outside the house, no one tried to stop them. Morpheus stumbled weakly but he steadied himself each time this happened.

             As soon as they were off the Fawny Rig grounds, just past the old iron gate, Morpheus stopped in his tracks, barefoot and mostly naked, but oblivious to any chill.  

He was staring up at the stars.  He hadn’t seen them in over a century.  Hob simply let him look.  They certainly were beautiful.   The stars gave the illusion of permanence.   But for all the change that might happen there were still stars in the darkness, even if one burnt out and another was born, there they were- always and forever.  Maybe that’s what immortality really was, the willingness to be ever-changing and yet ever constant, like the universe itself.      

           After some time Morpheus spoke, his voice still weak.  “I have to…   I have to return to…”

            Hob looked down at the weak, semi-skeletal figure that he was supporting.  “Return to where you originally came from?”

           He nodded.

           “Okay.  How do we do that?”  

           “You must sleep.”  He said simply, clutching the jacket around himself.

  _____________________________________________

 Chapter 6:             Rest:          

             They walked for some distance. Every so often Morpheus lost his footing and almost toppled but each time he stumbled Hob caught him.

           At one point he was certain Morpheus was looking at the blood on his shirt in concern at the stab wound.

           “It’s nothing.” Hob assured him.  “I’ve had worse.  I don’t think they’re chasing us but we really need to keep moving. ”

             When they finally reached the convertible, Morpheus stared at the automobile blankly.

“Oh, that’s just a horseless carriage.  We call them cars now.”

“I see…”

Hob opened the passenger door for him and pushed the book off the seat.  Morpheus understood to climb inside onto the seat. After he got in, Hob shut the door behind him.

Hob went to the driver’s side and climbed in, seating himself.  After shutting his own door he started the engine (which took several tries, as the car looked pretty but lacked functionality) but soon they were on the road away from Fawny Rig.  

Hob didn’t bother to tell his companion to put on a seat belt.  Any sort of restraint seemed like a bad idea right now, as if it was something that could potentially trigger post traumatic stress.  He already half-imagined that Morpheus would develop some kind of permanent claustrophobia after that long captivity and that seemed perfectly reasonable to him right now.  So he didn’t ask him to put on a seat belt.   And it was not likely either of them were about to die from a car crash.  

 After a quick stop at small convenience store they continued on the road for some distance and finally they reached the hotel parking field.

             Hob looked at his friend, trying not to show the pity he felt.   Instead he reached into the glove compartment and took out the small bag with the new bottle of extra strength Unisom sleeping pills he had just purchased at the convenience store.  

           He aligned the arrows on the child safety cap, removing the cap easily, and then punctured the seal with his thumb, taking out several small capsules into his hand.

He then removed the cap from the small bottled caffeine-free Coca-Cola he had also purchased and had been in the bag as well, with the bottle of Unisom sleeping pills.

“Well, bottom’s up.”  He raised his bottle as if it was a wine glass and then gulped down the five or so pills he had in his fist with a healthy swig of the soda.  

 Hob wasn’t certain if the amount of sleep aid capsules he had just swallowed was enough to potentially harm an ordinary man, but he knew he was not an ordinary man.  And his adrenaline was too high right now.  There was no way in Hell he was going to sleep without chemical assistance.  

 “Hob?” Morpheus looked as if he wanted to say something.

“Not now.” Hob said. “I’ll never get to sleep if you start chatting.  Save it for when we get you home.”  He said this as if Morpheus had ever been the talkative one. He knew he wasn’t.  

 There was a trace of a smile on Morpheus’ face.  “Thank you…”

“No problem.  What are friends for?”  He half expected the old tantrum to flare up but there was not the slightest hint of that now.  Morpheus leaned back in his own seat to wait.

 “I’ll… Turn on the radio while I wait for this stuff to kick in…” Hob said this to break the awkward silence that was threatening his drug-aided nap.

  By some twisted irony the song Mr. Sandman by The Chordettes was playing.  Hob gave an uneasy laugh. “Bet you hate that song, don’t you?”

The sudden music with vocal accompaniment seemed to startle Morpheus at first but his tension faded with Hob’s own nonchalantness about it. “Actually… I have never heard it before…”

“It’s about you… I think…”

“Is it really?”

 _________________________________

 Chapter 7:

 Home:

   The song wasn’t even over yet when Hob found himself standing in a dimly lit pub in the fourteenth century.  And there was his friend, quite naked, and seemingly indifferent to his own nakedness. Hob figured Morpheus must have left the jacket in the car.

 His friend was crouched in front of the fire place, tearing into a leg of mutton from someone else’s plate.  Curiously the tavern was empty except for the two of them, and yet several tables were loaded with untouched drinks and dishes of food.    

Some of the food didn’t really belong in this time period as they had not been invented yet- like chimichangas, New York style pizza, Kentucky fried chicken, and Twinkies.   These anachronistic snacks and meals were the first give-away that he was dreaming.

 Morpheus helped himself to the diverse array of strange foods.  A little of this, a little of that, he was gobbling as much of it up as he could. He seemed famished, eating as much as he could, as fast as he could.

 “Hey… Maybe you should take it easy?” Hob said in concern.  “You know when humans are starved for a long stretch of time they have to slowly reintroduce their body to solid foods.   Maybe start with some soup?  …Or you could just eat the entire bucket of KFC… Sure.  Why not?”                  

 After he had his fill Morpheus stood and seemed to be concentrating.  Slowly something swirled up around him like dust… or sand.  Yeah, it was glittering, golden sand.  

From that sand dark robes were taking form on his body.   Seamless and not quite stylized in any particular way.   Hob felt that at the moment the feebly conjured clothes vaguely resembled a black Snuggie.  

 With some cold determination Morpheus walked out the door of the pub and into a surprisingly beautiful night, with a sprawling nebula smeared overhead like oil paint.  

Hob hastily gave chase “Hey!  Hey, where you going?!”

 Outside the pub there was a beach.  Funny.   There was never a beach so close to the pub before but then Hob remembered this was a dream.   Morpheus was kneeling in the sand, gathering some of it.

“Hey, what are you doing?”  He caught Morpheus’ wrist.

Morpheus did not shrug him off.  “I have to get my revenge.”

“Revenge on who?  Roderick Burgess and his crew are dead!”

“His son yet lives.”

“His son?  You’re going to go after his son?!”

“You disapprove?  His son could have freed me.  I would have shown him mercy if he had let me go.  Instead he kept me as his father had, threatened, insulted, and tormented me. He must pay.”

“He didn’t know!   He didn’t know what to do and you probably scared him.  I’m not justifying it but I’ve lived long enough to know revenge isn’t going to make you feel any better.”

“But I… I waited so long…” He sounded uncertain.

“You’re sick.   You could barely stand.   You’re still recovering.  I’m pretty sure you don’t want to be wandering around in a half-finished Snuggie. You’re going to waste what little strength you have getting revenge on someone whose biggest crime was apathy and being a jerk?”

“What is a Snuggie?”

“Never mind that.” Hob said with a shake of his head.  “Revenge isn’t worth it.  You’ve got to forgive him.  You know as well as I do revenge isn’t going to bring you any real satisfaction.”

“Who are you to tell me what will satisfy me or not?”  Morpheus said angrily.

“The man who just saved your life!  That’s who! You can listen to me or not, that’s up to you.”  Hob let go of Morpheus’ wrist. “But the way I see it...  You need rest.  You need to recover.  And you need to learn to forgive.  Going after Burgess’ kid, who inherited you like a pet parrot, isn’t going to make you feel better.  You’re weak and you need rest.  Is there any where I can take you where you’ll be able to do that?”

“You’ll be waking up soon…”

“So hurry up then and tell me.”

 Hob walked beside his friend, down the twisting. dark path, surrounded by gnarled old trees.  Up ahead was an old house, probably eighteenth century or early Victorian.   And next to that house was a graveyard beside a similar, somewhat larger house.  “You sure this is where you want to go?”  Hob asked.  

Morpheus nodded.

“It looks like The Crypt Keeper lives here.”

“Something like that…”

 It was the pudgy one, Abel, who opened the door to the house of Mystery.  The thinner one in the pince-nez spectacles, Cain stood behind Abel.  Both looked stunned at who was at the door.

 Hob stood with the weakened Dream King leaning on him.   Behind them was the dopey eyed, dog-like, big, green, gargoyle that had followed them as soon as they entered the gate.

“Can you two look after my friend?  I think I’m starting to wake up….”

 Before Hob could get an answer he found himself back in the driver’s seat of the parked car.  He looked to the seat next to him. It was empty except for some glittering dust and his jacket.

He noticed something else too.  The pain in his stomach, where he had been stabbed, was entirely gone.  He would have healed on his own, mind you.  A wound like that couldn’t kill him, but it took hours, if not days to recover from such an injury.  Now it was as if the wound had never happened at all.  

Morpheus had heeded him about not wasting his energy on futile and cruel revenge. Instead he had spent his energy on something far more important.  He had used what little strength he had to heal his friend…

 ______________________________________

 Chapter 8:

 You’ll meet friends in the Dark:

  The funny thing about having a friend who is the King of Dreams is it’s hard to tell when something really is just a dream.  He worried that the part about delivering Morpheus to that old Haunted House to be tended to was just in his own mind, a fevered and addled dream from injury and over-the-counter sleeping pills.  

             Hob sat nervously at the pub.  The meeting was now some decades late.  He sincerely hoped the part of his recent adventure that took place in dreams was real.   That sounded silly to him upon reflection:  “the part that was in dreams was real...”

 Nervously he sat, worried his friend was not coming.  And then he saw him as if he had been there the whole time.  Morpheus stood in a modern, long, leather jacket. His messy dark hair slightly more stylized.  His skin still bone-white, his look still improbably slight, features still gaunt, and thin. The eyes were black but the tiny star-like pupils in the middle of that blackness seemed more alert, twinkling with old power.

“I- I wasn’t sure you’d be coming.”  Hob said.

“Really?”  Morpheus was smiling.  It was a small smile but it was there just the same.  “I have always heard it was impolite to keep one’s friends waiting. Would you like a drink?”

    The End

[jflashandclash]

Tales From Mount Othrys

Axel: Say “No” to Cruise Ships II

           “Everyone has to do something to prove their commitment to the cause,” Chris Rodriguez said. His Spanish accent was raspy, almost nasally, pronouncing every “s” like mispronunciation meant a whipping. Axel guessed his family was from Northern Mexico. The neutrality of Chris’ English made Axel also guess that Chris had lived in the States for most of his life.

         Axel was relieved that Chris didn’t ask about his or Ajax’s accent.

Chris towered over Ajax and was about level with Axel’s height. His dark eyes looked nervous. Sweat shined his brow in the backstage’s dim lighting. His hands shook as he sorted through a weapons rack.

         The roar of a distant crowd made Chris flinch.

This was their “techie.” Other monsters and humans that they had passed referred to Chris as the “backstage guard.”

         Axel wasn’t sure exactly what Chris’ job description was, but one thing was clear: Chris wanted to be here as little as the Pax brothers.

         They had passed too many people and were too deep in the ship to make a successful break. From what Axel could tell, this backstage was for one of the ship’s biggest stages. The audience’s engaged screams made it sound like there were at least a hundred people—creatures?—out there.

         “It used to be easier. I got grandfathered in back when all you needed to do was recruit another person,” as Chris spoke, he sifted through a pile of miscellaneous armor. Most of it looked like something from Ancient Europe—like from that Xena show. “Then, they would send new campers on quests, but most of the quests available now are on permanent hard mode and they can’t afford to send newbies out.”

         Axel turned down a bronze breastplate that Chris tried to hand him and opted for a leather one. The armor and weapons weren’t props. A sickening twist in Axel’s stomach hinted at what was about to happen.

         “I didn��t realize we had to prove ourselves to be safe here,” Ajax said, his voice trembling. When Axel refused to take Ajax’s hand during the walk with Morpheus, Ajax had hugged himself.  He perked up upon seeing the backstage, somewhere that felt familiar to both of them.

         Axel had to remind himself this wasn’t going to be a fun experience. There were so many happy memories associated with the stage. Normally, the giddiness of being backstage would make Axel squirm with anticipation. He remembered how Uncle Frasco would poke Axel to mess up whatever paint or costume he wore while Nilley, his mother, tried to fix them. She would shot Frasco death glares and he’d wink at her. The nostalgia made Axel’s nausea worse.

Those days were gone, forever.

         “Safe…” Chris echoed Ajax’s word. “Yea. Well, you came in just in time for the new experiment: fighting.”

         Ajax puffed up his cheeks and popped them.

         Axel resisted the urge to do the same. The entire Pax family tended to do that when nervous.

         This could be good news. Their dad had been forcing them to train for the last few months. Axel and his little sister, Lapis, had particularly excelled. “What kind of fighting?” he asked. Axel picked up a sword, testing its balance.

         His father didn’t like swords. It made Axel like them even more and think of them as a hero’s weapon.

         “Uh, to the death,” Chris said.

         Axel knew it was coming, but he still puffed up his cheeks and popped them at the same time as Ajax.

         His little brother’s breath became tight. “Mom didn’t mention that,” he squeaked.

         “They just implemented it. This is kind of an experimental round to see what kind of ratings it gets,” Chris explained. He handed Ajax a javelin that was several feet taller than him.

         Axel did not like the word “ratings.”

         Chris paused, frowning. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Had you come in earlier, it might not have been so bad. Just a centaur or something. But…” He swallowed. “You might want to say your goodbyes now. You’re going to die.”

         The regret on Chris’ face told Axel something very useful. There was some hope. Chris didn’t want to be here. He didn’t want Axel and Ajax to die. Maybe, Chris could help them get out.

         “And if we refuse to get on the stage?” Axel asked. He pulled his shoulders back to stand as tall as he could.

         “Then I will eat you.”

         Axel would never admit that he jumped, but the bear man startled him. Agrius stepped out from the stage’s back entrance, where Morpheus had left them with Chris and where Chris confiscated Axel’s gun.

“You’re either with the cause, or you’re monster feed.” Agrius seemed to be reconsidering his opinions on jalapeños. There was a line of drool sliding out of his snout.

         “How generous,” Axel said, trying to keep his expression neutral. His little brother might get hysterical if he thought Axel was afraid.

         Chris took a step away from Agrius, eyeing him. When his gaze returned to Axel, he shrugged apologetically. “Normally, it isn’t this bad. You just got really unlucky. Like, mother-load unlucky. We were running out of expendable monsters to throw at this guy.”

         Someone poked their head around a burgundy curtain hanging against the wall. Even in the dim, backstage lighting, Axel could tell the older boy had brilliant red hair that dangled a little too long against the boy’s long, pale nose and freckles. He flashed them a charming smile. From the dart of his eyes and the quiver of his hand on the curtain, he looked nervous.

         “Are you up next?” the boy asked.

         Chris answered for them. “Yea, they’re up next—”

         “No,” Axel cut him off. He hefted up his sword, hoping the stage props he’d handled in the past would give him some familiarity with the real thing. “Ajax stays here. I’m going out on my own.”

         “Uh…” Chris said skeptically.

         At the same time, the redhead hopped once. “Oh! You must be good. What’s your name?”

         Axel glanced down to where Ajax had burrowed against Axel’s back again. His little brother peeked curiously around to see the newcomer.

Agrius stepped uncomfortably close, licking the drool off his teeth.

         Axel didn’t know if he was or wasn’t good. All he knew was that he had to be good to get Ajax out of here. There wasn’t an option. “Axel. Axel Pax,” he said, puffing up his chest to look confident.

         “No, like, your stage name,” the boy said.

         Ajax leaned further around Axel’s elbow to ask, “What’s the scariest and biggest cat they have in Greece?”

         The redhead, Chris, and Agrius all glanced at each other.

         “Uh, a lion, I think?” the redhead said.

         The temptation to elbow Ajax in the head was fierce. When Axel glanced down at Ajax, he saw his little brother’s desperation. If Axel was going to be the big hero, he needed to do everything right, including have a cool moniker. Just like their old performances, he would have to go out with a bang.

         Axel swallowed. “So, this guy, the one I’m fighting, is a big deal,” he said, gesturing towards the curtain containing the stage. “When I defeat him, my brother will not need to prove his worth. When I beat him, it will be admittance for both of us.”

         If Axel kept saying “beat him,” he might start to believe it.          

         The redhead’s smile widened, turning goofy. “Yep. I can do that. I hope you win.”

         The older boy examined Axel and his little brother for a moment too long.

         Then he disappeared behind the curtain.

         Roaring erupted outside.

         Agrius shoved Axel forward, towards a different section of curtain.

         There was no time to prepare. Axel had meant to give Ajax a hug, or tell Ajax the best route to run if… if something… if he—

         Stage lights blinded him.

         The typical rush of going in front of a crowd made Axel’s heartbeat increase. Heat washed over him.

         One thing solidified: he wasn’t going to let Ajax lose another family member without getting to say goodbye. One more reason that Axel had to live.

         When Axel’s eyes adjusted to the brilliance of lighting, he jammed his feet into the floorboards. His breath became short.

         There was a massive, doomed cage encasing the center of the stage. It was igloo-shaped. The only tunneled entrance was the one Agrius shoved Axel through. The bars were spaced far enough that Ajax might be able to squeeze between them, but Axel couldn’t, even if he’d practiced more contortionism. The space was maybe thirty feet in diameter with the highest part of the cage ten feet off the ground. Ropes dangled from the rusted bars with swords, spears, and axes, if Axel wanted to reach up and change weapons.

         Axel hated cages.

         He tried to keep a rhythmic count in his head, to ease his breath and mimic the count. That was what his Uncle Frasco told him to do whenever something scared Axel.

         The cage is a backdrop, he thought. Focus on the main event. Focus on the main event or you’ll never make it through the show.

         He would have frozen up in fear if someone hadn’t moved in the center of the cage.

         The first thing Axel noticed was the armor. His opponent’s breastplate gleamed with pure gold. There were medals of honor decorating his chest. When the man rose to his feet, a tattered, reddish-purple cloak fluttered around his ankles. If Axel had to guess, the man was at least eighteen and six foot three. His chestnut skin glistened with sweat and blood. His dark eyes bore into Axel with the patience of someone who knew they had already won the fight.

         “What’s this?!” came a voice outside the cage. The stage extended a few more feet, allowing the redhead to walk along the edge like a show host. “Jak-Jak back here to say: we have a surprise last minute entry against Praetor Julian, son of Mars! Meet Axel the Lion!”

         The audience screamed.

         It almost drowned out the sound of a cage door slamming shut behind Axel and the way Ajax shrieked in panic, “B-but that guy is huge!”

         As Axel staggered forward, struggling with claustrophobia more than the fear of fighting this guy, all he could think was, That is a stupid stage name to die with.

 ***

Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed :D

[allenmendezsr]

The Consistency Code Mental Game Coaching System

New Post has been published on https://autotraffixpro.app/allenmendezsr/the-consistency-code-mental-game-coaching-system/

The Consistency Code Mental Game Coaching System

 Buy Now

    “Yesterday we played a match play tournament and I applied some of your methods and it made a huge difference in my game. [… it made me feel so confident. Long story short, I eagled 9 so we took the team match. I was down 1 with 2 to go in individual match play and won 17 and 18 with clutch 5 foot par putts and won. Oh, and feel free to use these comments any way you want, this is by far the best money I’ve ever spent on my golf game. I look forward to doing some private sessions with you in the future.”

Regards, Rob Bartos Southwick, MA

Imagine harnessing the power of a method that makes you actually crave pressure, hit the quality shots when it matters most, feel no nerves over must make putts and play with an unstoppable inner confidence no matter what your handicap…

“I wonder if I’ll be able to hit the ball the way I need to. Geez, I hope people don’t think my game sucks. Will they be thinking “what is this guy doing in this tournament anyways, he’s got no game.” I won’t be able to handle it if I can’t play well tomorrow. Maybe I can call and drop out of the tournament.”

This was from Brett, a client of mine. His inner demons were crushing him. He’d lost before he started. You can see he had almost no chance of playing to his potential or enjoying the game. He’s not alone. How many of these are ruining your game?

Uncontrollable nerves

Inability to focus

Increased sense of pressure over important shots

Negative self talk

Performance anxiety

Mentally giving up

Not being able to pull of the shots needed when it matters most

And the list goes on…

Stop trying to wrestle with your inner demons, it’s a fight you can’t win

What you resist persists…

What demons do you try and wrestle into submission? How successful have your inner battles been? If you’re like many golfers I work with you continue to leave the golf course frustrated and perhaps even wonder if it’s worth playing the game at all.

The sad truth is it will stay like this unless you make some changes in how you use your mind.

It’s kind of like being trapped in a room and the building is on fire. There are two doors and a window but there are flames on the other side of the window and smoke is billowing under the cracks of the doors. You desperately need to get out but you can’t find a way.

One thing’s for sure, no one wants to be stuck in a burning building with no way out. Sadly, that’s exactly what’s happening to most golfers every round they play. They’re suffocating on the mental fumes of their own uncontrollable mind.

Remember, what you resist persists. The more you struggle the worse things get.

The Discovery that Changed the Game, Forever…

You see, I have a background in the Psychology of Human Excellence. I’m an NLP Trainer with Ericksonian Hypnosis training and a host of other skillsets. My life, before golf, was focused on helping others achieve real, dramatic improvements in mental and physical performance. Then, just like you, I got infected with the golf bug and was obsessed with playing as well as I could.

In a minute you’ll find out that I taught myself how to golf, without taking lessons, but wanted more than just a good swing. I wanted to win and play well all the time! But, like you, I experienced frustration at not being able to duplicate my great rounds and play as well in tournaments and competitive situations.

That was until I discovered something, almost by accident, that changed my game and the games (now numbering in the thousands) of my private clients and students from all over the world. It is so powerful and effective at dissolving virtually every single mental issue a golfer faces. The endless issues that prevent you from playing the way you are capable of.

Yet what you’re about to learn is it has NOTHING to do with the swing and EVERYTHING to do with how you use your mind…

The Golf Whisperer Method Was Born

While teaching myself how to golf through applying my knowledge of advanced peak performance strategies and accelerated learning techniques I got down to a 3 handicap, without taking lessons. Not bad, huh.

Other golfers began hearing about my results and begged me to work with them. I said “I’m not a golf teacher or a pro.” That didn’t stop them. They just wanted results. I told them again, “I’m not a golf instructor or a sports psychologist.” They just smiled, ignored my comments and conitnued to pursue me.

One client said it best, “you may not have a Phd but you clearly have a masters in results and I want the results you’re getting!” A few of them admiringly nicknamed me the Golf Whisperer. That name stuck and became my brand.

So I started working with golfers of all skill levels, men, women and children. Something incredible happened. Almost be accident. This discovery has become like a Viagra for your mind. Real, predictable, measurable mental potency. You’re about to see why this analogy fits so well…

“It’s The Best Inner Game Training I’ve Ever Seen”

The Golf Whisperer’s material is the best mental game instructional training I have ever seen in over 30 years as a golf professional at the highest level and I am personal friends with several of the well known mental game gurus on the PGA Tour.

There has never been a champion that didn’t have a strong mind and the ability to control their thoughts and their focus. These methods are comprehensive and reveal the fundamentals of the inner game more succinctly than anything I have ever seen.”

Bobby McIver, PGA Tour Coach & Author of The Heart of the Game

What do Viagra, covert mental game training & lower scores have in common?

Did you know that Viagra was an accident? The Pfizer company was working on a drug for a completely different purpose and were doing clinical trials. Then from participant feedback they found a peculiar side effect: men were staying erect for hours! This had nothing to do with what they were developing the drug for.

The side-effect became more powerful (and with some stimulating benefits…) than the original purpose of the drug! It was an accident. So here I was working away on golfers’ games from all over the world using covert mental techniques I’d developed during these personal client “trials.”

(what I was doing began to spread very quickly by word of mouth alone. I didn’t promote myself at all yet I was getting swamped with requests)

We worked with visualization techniques, cool mental imagery exercises and some insanely potent mental drills. Yet my focus when working with players was just to improve their game and make them learn it faster.

And then something incredible happened. The game changing event slapped me in the face! I don’t know why I didn’t see it earlier.

The “AHA” moment struck me when dozens of students began sending feedback and testimonials on how calm and confident they were while playing the game. They told me they stopped feeling nervous over shots. Their focus improved. A laundry list of mental game issues as long as your arm were melting away, one after another.

I’m going to show you how this side effect has become the biggest breakthrough in game improvement in the past 50 years. It will save you more strokes than a big headed driver or a new set of irons EVER will!

It’s like taking a magic pill that unlocks the full potential of your mind & body

Imagine having a simple system, a method so potent at supercharging your mind it’s like taking a magic pill that instantly cures EVERY conceivable inner game problem you experience??? This is exactly what the Golf Whisperer method does. It will take your mind places you’ve never been on the golf course, I guarantee it.

Are you ready to enter a whole new world in golf? Do you want the red pill or the blue one? Yes, just like Morpheus in the Matrix he asks you to choose a pill: the red one or the blue one.

The red pill is what you’re already taking, by default. Not doing anything IS taking the red pill. It’s the toughest pill to swallow and easy to choke on yet golfers will mindlessly continue to take it. Your experiences will continue to stay the same, game after game after game.

The Red Pill Golfer’s World

Negative self talk – you beat yourself up after almost every shot – if you talked to others the way you talk to yourself you’d probably have no friends and for sure few playing partners…

Missed pressure putts – contantly missing that putt to win or shoot a personal best score

Bad swings at the wrong time – just when you need it least “that” swing shows up

Play worse in compeition – it’s easy to play well with no-one watching or nothing on the line but how well do you play when competing?

Uncontrollable nerves – first tee jitters and even score crushing nervousness while you play

Lack of focus – a scattered mind that can’t focus will never allow you to shoot your lowest scores.

Poor decision making – not thinking clearly and being certain your shot selection and club selection are the BEST for the sutuation

Easily distracted – someone walking or talking near you, coughing, birds chirping or whatever else, scatters your brain and you lose focus on your shot

Mentally giving up when things aren’t going good – this is a killer of ever being a great player.

And this is just a short list!

It’s hard to calculate how many strokes a round you’re losing every time you play

Blue Pill Golfer’s World with Golf Whisperer Training

Laser focus – you don’t even notice distractions because you’re so dialed in

Calm under pressure – this will stun your playing partners at how casually you make clutch shots and putts

Mental toughness – you’ll have a “never quit” attitude, regardless of your score and when the going gets tough you dig even deeper

Clear decision making – this will save you a minimum of 4 strokes a round Excitement and anticipation for competitive matches and tournaments

Mastery over your nerves – quick and lasting methods for staying calm, centered and relaxed from the first tee to the last putt

Play better in competition than in casual rounds – yes, BETTER Enter the zone at will – No-one else is teaching this. Know why? They don’t know how. There’s a path that leads to the zone and I’ll give you the GPS

It’s time to take control of your mind and your game and play to the level you KNOW you are capable of, isn’t it?

Covert mental techniques used by green beret’s, olympic athletes, martial artists and secretively by a handful of pga pros…

Do you think it’s an accident that when Tiger Woods was at his peak years ago he had the most dominant mind the game has ever seen? His mental toughness and focus were almost legendary. I have yet to see any player even close to his level of mental control, have you?

This wasn’t by accident, fluke, luck or chance. It was by design. Hypnosis training and advanced mental strategies were used throughout his early years. I modelled these strategies, built on them and created an entirely new system that has taken things to a new level never before seen in golf. Bold statement? Sure. Can I prove it? Absolutely.

Better yet I’ll let my customers do it. After all, they’re the reason this method exists.

“I racked up 5 birdies & won the competition by a mile!”

[ramajmedia]

MBTI® Of The Matrix Characters | ScreenRant

The Matrix was the 1999 film that broke everyone’s brain. It has become a pop culture touchstone, as well as a conspiracy theory touchstone—just check the annals of Reddit. The movie follows programmer Thomas Anderson, also known as Neo, as he discovers the truth about our reality and the formidable artificial intelligence that controls it.

RELATED: 10 Matrix Memes That Will Have You Laughing Your Way to the Real World

Using what we know from this sci-fi classic, we’ve put together how we think the characters would score on the Myers‑Briggs® Type Indicator test. Some of the characters die too early for viewers to get to know them very well, but we think we’ve got the main characters down pat.

10 Dozer — ISFJ, The Defender

Viewers don’t get to spend much time with Dozer, which is unfortunate because he’s a pretty interesting guy. He and his brother Tank are the only two completely human people we meet—they were born in Zion, the last human town.

From what we know about him, Dozer seems like a classic ISFJ. He acts as pilot and medic onboard the Nebuchadnezzar, both roles which flex his Observing and Judging traits. Though he keeps to himself, a classic Introvert trait, he is caring and dedicated. He is expressive and kind, especially when Neo first joins the crew, which are clear Feeling traits.

9 Tank — ESFP, The Entertainer

The cheerful and gregarious Tank is a relief compared to all the strong silent types that this movie is populated with. He is all Extraverted outgoing and welcoming traits, excited to get to know Neo. We know he has strong Prospecting traits because when he loads up the training for Neo, he skips the “boring” stuff, showing a classic non-conformist preference for improvisation. Tank’s Feeling traits make him hopeful that Neo is The One, but his Observing traits also means he needs to see it to believe it.

It’s too bad that Tank doesn’t survive into the other Matrix movies because the rest of the crew is really balanced out by someone like him.

8 Mouse — ENTP, The Debater

Mouse’s enthusiastic expounding on ideas and encouragement of hedonistic pleasure makes him seem young and naïve compared to the rest of the Neb crew (his t-shirts under blazers don’t help either). But had he lived into old age, he probably would have kept his philosophizing and wonder as he grew because they’re such classic Intuitive and Thinking traits.

He is excited about Neo and knows he’s going to do well from the beginning—more proof of his Intuitive traits. Mouse also has strong Prospecting traits, which we see when he offers Neo a private venue with the woman in the red dress at the first opportunity.

7 Apoc — ISTP, The Virtuouso

Though he’s pretty pivotal, Apoc barely speaks during this movie. In that way, he’s Introverted in the extreme. But what he lacks in conversational fortitude he makes up for in his absolute skill in almost everything technical aboard the Nebuchadnezzar. He is highly oriented toward Thinking and Observing traits—he explores with his hands and is good at taking things apart and putting them back together.

Apoc doesn’t seem impulsive, which rules out Judging traits for him; he likes to know how things work before he does something. By watching, Apoc knows when Neo is ready to handle a weapon and take up the fight.

6 Cypher — ESFP, The Entertainer

In many ways, Cypher is sort of Tank-gone-wrong. He’s a non-conformist, but it’s the rebellious Resistance characters aboard the Nebuchadnezzar that he’s not conforming to. He is one of the few people in the world who knows of the Matrix and wants it.

Cypher is so stuck in his Feeling and Observing ways that he wants the nice comfort of the simulation—he wants to have fun, not struggle for truth. He’s got an ESFP’s biggest weaknesses: He’s terrible at long-term planning; he’s extremely sensitive; and he hates conflict so much he’d rather live a lie.

5 Agent Smith — ISTJ, The Logistician

One of the most fun easter eggs in The Matrix is Agent Smith’s license plate. It reads “IS 5416,” a reference to the Biblical passage Isaiah 54:16, which talks about the blessings for Zion. Smith is either “the craftsman who fans the coals into flames” or “the destroyer” that wreaks havoc, depending on your perspective.

RELATED: 5 Best Action Scenes in The Matrix (and the 5 Worst)

That verse is actually a good summary of his personality: Smith is basically a police officer. He wants conformity, he wants everyone to follow the rules—both classic Judging traits. Thinking and Observing are big for him, and he’s always able to figure out what his opponents are going to do next because of that. He works within a group, but he’s not Extraverted with them, he’s just straightforward and in charge.

4 The Oracle — INFP, The Mediator

The Oracle’s role in the existence of the Matrix and her relationship with the humans is complicated and full of strange reveals. She both wants to help them succeed but also is a founding part of the Matrix herself.

Nevertheless, she’s so well attuned to human psychology that she is able to predict how they’ll behave before they do, which is Intuitive traits taken to the extreme. She is Introverted, likely because she has to be protected, but her strong Feeling traits are what make her want to help them. She’s passionate and flexible, both Prospecting traits, but occasionally impractical because she can’t simply hand Neo the answers.

3 Morpheus — ENFJ, The Protagonist

Even though Neo is the hero of the series, Morpheus is a clear Protagonist personality type. He’s an inspiring leader and genuinely cares about all the members of the Nebuchadnezzar crew, which his Extraverted traits enable. He is extremely Intuitive as well—he believes before anyone else does that Neo is The One.

He has very strong Feeling traits as well, meaning he’s altruistic and firm in his beliefs. That’s what allows him to spend his life searching for Neo. Of course, this can be a fault too—he doesn’t hesitate to sacrifice himself for Neo, even though everyone else will suffer without him.

2 Trinity — ISTJ, The Logistician

Because she plays her cards so close to her chest, Trinity might be one of the hardest character to get to know, even though she’s one of the most present. Obviously, that makes her Introverted. Her Observing traits are why she holds back part of the prophecy the Oracle gave her—she needs to see for herself if it's true before she reveals it to anyone else.

Trinity is dedicated to the cause. She prioritizes getting the job done over her own feelings, and only acts impulsively when she follows Neo to save Morpheus, citing how much Morpheus means to her. Whether she swings more heavily Judging or Prospecting is up for debate—Trinity knows the plan and prefers the plan, which are Judging traits, but she easily improvises when the plan goes wrong. Of course, she’s a non-conformist and flexible, which is how she became a hacker that was saved to begin with. All those are Prospecting traits.

1 Neo — INTJ, The Architect

At first, it seems ironic that the archetype name of INTJs is the Architect, and the Architect is who Neo ultimately needs to battle. But, Neo’s similarities to the Architect program may actually be his strengths.

Neo wants knowledge, he wants to know everything, which is a Thinking trait, but he’s also incredibly focused, which is an Introvert trait. His brain is in non-stop analysis mode, which is how he learns so quickly, but his constant awareness is in the driver’s seat of his Intuition. His Intuition makes him creative, and his Judging traits make him very decisive. Like all INTJs, Neo hates pointless rules, unnecessary restrictions, and pointless traditions. He believes he has the moral high ground, and that’s what allows him to be effective as he fights for humanity.

NEXT: 10 Best Sci-Fi Movies of All Time, According to IMDb

source https://screenrant.com/mbti-matrix-characters/

[hxpeincarnate-a]

☮ & ❤

__φ(．．) >  act.  // accepting.

waking them up after a nightmare && kissing them . 

♞ █      Kaida was ushered to sleep by the tiredness that clung to her very being, unable to sway from the feeling. It was the first time she excused herself from the dinner table to actually go rest. She noticed the look of concern but shrugged it off with a ‘ it’s been a long day ‘ and walked away. 

The rain that knocked against the glass of her bedroom window had made her forgotten that the pendant had been wrapped around her arm, automatically going back to her bad habit of keeping it tightly clutched into her right hand, curling up on her side and letting sleep take her quickly into its arms. 

It had been a few hours in, deep sleep leaving her form with a hushed rise and fall of her lungs. Everything started off so fine, so ... Normal for once that it was a miracle. But that soon changed, the peaceful times she was sharing with friends, memories of good things suddenly turned sour, eyes shifting to her hands were bloodstained, claws formed and she stood among piles upon piles of corpses.   Her breathing struggled for a moment, the scent of death fresh in the air as she walked passed the white snow of the Arctic. Knowing that this was a dream -- that her memories and subconscious were playing with her. 

But, it still stung. 

She walked passed so many of those who she called family -- all dead from a range of things. Bullet wounds, blade marks -- some of them even looked to be just frozen solid. Her stomach twisted, but she continued. Forcing herself forward. 

Within moments the scenery changed from white to black -- halls that stood so tall they towered over her made her feel like an ant. Red eyes only looking forward, only hoping that this would end soon and she could get back to the happy memories she missed. 

But, she saw him. Addolorato -- all in white, blood speckled over his so - called pure jacket. It was already a sickening scene with him there, yet it got worse. Her eyes finally daring to adventure passed the man, her heart sinking and racing all at the same time. 

The timeline previous to the one she lived now. 

A motion, a blur -- Addolorato had taken aim at someone and was stopped, she could feel the spell as if she was there again, her hand reaching towards her back towards the large scar that she watched be created once more. Blood rained into the air, darting right back into her tiny form like daggers as the one who the attack was meant for, her best friend, just watched, eyes wide as she smiled ever so stupidly. 

The pain ignited like a fire with gasoline, a scream finally leaving her as it did the memory, falling to the ground as she watched the blond hero grab onto her, that stupid accent of his calling out her name, telling her to stay awake. She knew this ending though -- or so she thought. 

Within it all, she hadn’t noticed the god of chaos move closer to her form, hadn’t noticed the shadows and ice slowly tangling her, burning her arm with the frost. Then his blade was against her throat -- digging into the scar, making blood begin to drip. 

 >    I t  w i l l  h a p p e n  a g a i n,  k a i d a 

The words made her crumble, feeling as the ice slowly ate away at her form. It brought back too much for her to hold it off, to handle the pain and despair. She shouted and screamed, trying to get her magic to work only for him to sneer -- nothing. 

Nothing would work. 

She gulped, feeling the blade dig into her throat again, playing with her vocal cords as he kept her there, whistling while he danced away -- the murder show beginning. Her screams were cut short by the pain in her neck, her body tense with all that was before suddenly, she was no longer there, the world seems to spin as her eyelids opened wide. 

The ibrida couldn’t even see the other at first, the room a spinning mess that made her heart continue to beat, faster and faster. She heard something -- static -- over the words that were being spoken. She barely could grip if the world she was in at that moment was truthfully reality, her claws digging into her throat, not realizing that she had reopened the wound herself. 

“ Kaida . “ 

 Something clicked, shrunken pupils focusing on that voice, gazing to where it came from with hesitance. Before she could say anything, she felt hands guide her own back down, the stench of blood in the air. She couldn’t breathe, could barely see as everything blurred and refocused, making her nauseous. The only thing she seemed to be able to do was have her claws bared -- a growl deep in her chest to try and scare the other away. 

But it hadn’t happened. She watched as their lips moved again, the static getting louder to fight their voice. Hands that had been placed on her lap suddenly moved again, witnessing the other flinch but not paying any heed to it, digging the claws into her ears hoping to stop that dreaded noise.  

“ Kaida ! “ 

She dazed out again, noticing the other struggle to keep a grip on her arms. Feeling magic being used to pull them away from her head. It confused the ibrida, making her breathing worsen, her heart stinging. She assumed that she had hurt the other somehow -- that the blood that begun to run down her arms was the others and not her own. 

Oh, how false that was.

It felt like an eternity when it had only been a few minutes. Her blood boiling as scales begun to form from the flight or fight response, but that was soon canceled out, or slowed by the sudden action of the goddess. All the beast felt was the other wrap her up in an embrace, holding her close before their lips touched. 

The growl disappeared, a whimper coming into its place as tears finally rolled down her cheeks. The pain no longer blocked by adrenaline, she trembled, whined -- resting her head against the other’s as her heartbeat continued to race. Her vision dimmed for a moment, looking to her arm to see the true reality, no ice marks... 

Nor Morpheus. 

The confusion began to bubble along with the other emotions, her body jerking as she couldn’t find words to speak. Hushed, so gently -- she felt a hand run through her hair but her form still stayed tense. Another whisper. A sweet nothing. 

And then her name rung again. 

“ Ma-mado... “ It could barely form on her lips, throat dried, stinging as she finally begun to piece everything together. The tiny burn marks on the other’s hands, the shine of the pendant tossed into the pile of plush. They had come in on her screaming from a memory twisted by the dark part of her mind. 

How cruel was fate. 

The other hushed her, continuing to run a hand through her hair, almost as if petting the top of her head. A ‘ it’s okay, you’re okay ‘ being one of the many reassurances that the goddess offered the beast. 

But all Kaida could do was cry, hands stained with her own blood going over her eyes to hide the sobbing that finally broke free. The wall she tried so hard to keep steady, the bottle she stuffed with every little problem. 

It all shattered. 

Yet, Madoka drew closer, an aura -- like a warm sunny day -- cloaking them both, the other’s words attempting to get the dragon to focus on her breathing, to focus on herself.  It seemed to have settled her, be it for the moment, her hands being wiped against her own shirt to rid them of the blood, her arms wrapping around the goddess, taking in her scent, a tiny kiss to the cheek being given. 

A few minutes more passed, her form regaining its senses nearly completely, being lulled into the sense of safety by something the other had done. She couldn’t tell, be it the tiredness that still had it’s hold on her mind, or the broken will that left her frowning and nudging into the other. Something, she decided, was being done by the other, and now -- she didn’t argue against it, drawing closer to them instead. 

Closer and closer, until their lips met again. They stayed there for a bit, the warmth contrasting her chill. It was a few moments after that she pulled away, only to be pushed so gently back down into the bed, into the blankets that kept her being warmed. Her eyes, half - lidded, watched as the other moved above her for a moment, pushing hair strands out of the way, making soft comments. 

But then, they were close once again, the goddess’s breath against her cheek, her shoulder being the other’s pillow. Their hands went over to her neck, but she was too tired to stop the other from healing the mistakes she had done, accepting it, thanking them with a kiss on the forehead. 

It took what seemed to be forever, but finally, calmness took over the beast, her claws growing back to nails, the tension relaxing as she felt the other simply breathe beside her. The way their chest rose and fell was hypnotic to the beast, hearing each inhale and exhale and trying to match it. 

She found herself beginning to purr as the other held her close, five words leaving her own lips. 

“ I think I love you. “ 

[stgeorgesmovielover-blog]

John Wick: Chapter 2

For those of you that may have missed John Wick when it released back in April 2015 (nearly 7 months after the US release!), the film signalled the return to true action hero form for Keanu Reeves- and what a surprisingly brilliant film it was! Nearly 2 years on, Reeves is back in John Wick's 'tactical' suit to wreak more havoc on the seedy world of mafia dons, hitmen and gangsters. So, to catch us all up, John Wick: an ex-hitman who had recently lost his wife to a terminal illness, was forced out of retirement to track down the gangsters that killed the puppy she had left him in her memory and who had stolen his precious Mustang. The callous disrespect cannot go unpunished and Wick soon learns these thugs are closely linked to Mob Boss, Viggo Tarasov (Michael Nyqvist). As the film progresses it quickly becomes clear that Wick is a man you do not want to mess with; he is also a man that does not want to get back into the business of being a Hitman, but he must make them pay for what they have done, as he is a grieving man, with nothing left to lose. In this instalment, Wick finally gets his beloved Mustang back and, still reeling from the death of his wife, Helen, is truly ready to fade back into some sense of normalcy. But this state is, of course, shortly lived, when Wick is paid a visit by a former associate, Santino D'Antonio, with nefarious intentions to seize control over a large part of the international assassins' guild. D'Antonio (played by Riccardo Scamarcio), forces Wick's hand by reminding him of the blood oath that he holds over him, the price of which is to assassinate whomever he is instructed to, no questions asked. Little does Wick know, however, that once the oath is honoured and the debt is paid, he is to be targeted by every international assassin in the market for his bounty. But how does John Wick: Chapter 2 fare in comparison to Wick's first cinematic outing? Well, as far as entertainment goes, this one definitely hits the mark in much the same way as the fist! Hugely audacious and certifiably more violent than its predecessor, Chapter 2 takes a much bolder step into the action genre. What is plainly evident, is that John Wick is not great at retiring at all and perhaps, as others have commented along the way, he is addicted to bloody path of vengeance- but really, what else does he have to live for? And what could be more dangerous than a man with nothing left to hold him back? After its opening, the film wastes no time at all plunging us deeper into the particular diegesis of Wick's world, its mythologies, arcane rules and boundaries. This labyrinthine world of assassins is far more rigidly structured, regimented and orderly than we might otherwise think and it's a treat to explore the various layers and inner-workings in such a way. One of the best examples of these appetising details is the introduction of an old-fashioned administrative steno pool of tattooed ladies that handle and process the release of 'hits' and other nasty things that need to get done. There are also several moments of pleasure to be had watching Wick prepare for his various showdowns. Here is a man with incredibly refined flawless tastes and he knows what he wants. The conversation with the weapons Sommelier (Peter Serafinowicz) that is carried out as one, perfectly formed, metaphor for fine dining, is absolutely brilliant! Another highlight is when Wick responds to the question of 'what style?' by his Italian suit tailor, with the one-word response: 'tactical'. Yes, even gorgeous, precisely tailored dinner suits can serve a higher purpose in Wick's world- one of bullet-proof armour! It could be argued that some of the focus of the first film is lost here, with such attention paid to the smaller details of the criminal world, but these details are charming and help to add so much more class to the film, whilst also enabling a natural precursor for moments of humour. All of this lending the story the chance to venture down some fun avenues. Obviously, cinema was created so that we could all marvel at Keanu Reeves' ability to look about two decades younger than his actual age, in the slickest suits and simultaneously slice through people with the same grace as Fred Astaire! Yes, I am clearly a fan of Mr. Reeves, but joking aside, for all its charming craft and flawless style, John Wick: Chapter 2 is undoubtedly, like its predecessor, a showcase for Keanu Reeves: a great actor that has made great films for decades and a man, more importantly, with a sincere love for and skill in the action genre. I don't believe, as great as this series is, that it would be anywhere near as good without Reeves in the titular role. The action truly is second to none and it is obvious that Reeves knows what he's doing when it comes to the martial arts. Over the length of his career, Reeves has trained in such arts as Jiu Jitsu, Wushu, Boxing, Krav Maga, Judo, Karate and many more, so there is no chance of questioning the authenticity of the action in this one. Keanu Reeves was born for action, he was born to play the hero and yes, some have criticised his acting over the years as wooden or stilted, but I find- at least as John Wick, that he plays the grieving, reluctant hitman brilliantly. Having said all of that, Reeves is not the only star that shines brightly in this one. There is the returning cast of Ian McShane as Winston, the Owner of New York City's Continental Hotel, Lance Reddick as the Manager, and the ever-amazing John Leguizamo as Aurelio the mechanic. However the new faces also bring plenty to the table with the likes of Orange is the New Black's, Ruby Rose, as Ares, who manages to be a commanding presence in every scene despite no dialogue whatsoever, the brilliantly talented, Common, as Cassian, who completely nails the silent but deadly assassin mode with such panache that his and Reeves' scenes together light up the film! Finally, there is the superb addition of Laurence Fishburne, as the Bowery King. Indeed, there is no doubt that these two actors have a wonderful rapport between them, I mean, how could they not after their shared history in The Matrix franchise? But Fishburne is powerful in the role with a hint of eccentricity, for good measure, even though his role is a fairly small one, he manages to make quite the impact and I certainly felt those Neo/Morpheus chills! How could I not? It's Neo and Morpheus, people! The only real negative, for me, was how rapid the Ares and Wick fight was. As a Ruby Rose fan, I was anticipating a grander showdown but what I got was one that, sadly, did not last as long as I'd have liked it to, but she definitely has a place in the cinematic action world, no doubt about it! However, I must applaud Director, Chad Stahelski for the superbly choreographed art gallery sequence as that is a sheer work of art in itself! The visual feast that Stahelski and Cinematographer, Dan Laustsen have created is truly sumptuous. Every frame takes advantage of the refined styles of Wick's world, forming a colour palette unique to the action film landscape that gives John Wick: Chapter 2 an artistic quality. These two also know how handsome and physically expressive their leading man is. Often Reeves is the only thing on-screen, his face and body cast in shades of turquoise, jade, and neon pink and the angles of his frame beautifully highlighted in a gorgeous, stylish, yet masculine way. The fight scenes are also quite artful, they are never over-edited and the continuous use of wide shots only serve to further highlight just how much Reeves trained for the physicality of the role. It's safe to say that the violence is never one-dimensional, either, instead frequently oscillating between darkly humorous and even poetic. This chapter is definitely more brutal than the first- but we do get to see Wick's pencil trick- which is a testament to how deadly he really is. Reeves' dialogue may be spare, but his body tells a story of its own, even in the subdued moments and often, he manages to communicate more of a history than some actors do in entire monologues. Indeed, where Ares may be frenetic and Cassian brutal, Wick is elegant and poetic in his violence. Quite frequently it feels like Reeves is creating dance crafted by his skill with the action and violence and I'm hard pressed to think of any other modern action star who manages to be so brutal yet utterly beautiful in equal measure. But, it must be said that Keanu Reeves' talent goes beyond just his undeniable flair as a physical performer in action scenes. John Wick: Chapter 2 highlights the theme that has snaked its way throughout his entire career: loneliness. There is no doubt that Reeves has always been at his best when he has played men that are isolated due to choice and pathology. Wick's struggle to find peace in this dangerous, chaotic and volatile world is actually moving and you desperately want him to succeed in finding it. Here is a man without any real home in the world- emotional or tangible. Yes this is a slick, adrenaline-pumping action flick that will be sure to keep the masses entertained, but John Wick: Chapter 2 is also a moving depiction of how loneliness and grief can warp the best of us. A sharp, ferocious and stylish piece of cinema, John Wick: Chapter 2 is every bit as cool and bloodthirsty as the first. The film oozes sophistication and class and the franchise is probably one of the most artistic and technical we have seen within the Hollywood action genre in recent years- in fact the only other double-hitter that springs to mind is the Indonesian: The Raid (both parts 1 and 2), but John Wick definitely is bridging the gap between the Eastern giants in Martial Arts and the Hollywood mainstream! The door has been left open for a potential Chapter 3, and I know (if it goes ahead), I will definitely be first in line to see it. If it turns out to be anywhere near as good as the first two, then it's bound to be excellent! 4.5/5

[elajyoti-blog]

Neelkanth IVF Centre | IVF Cost in Gurgaon | Elawoman

Neelkanth IVF Centre

Neelkanth IVF Centre is one of the leading Multi Super Specialty Hospitals in NCR. Its Gurgaon branch is situated at Mehrauli Gurgaon Road, Near D.L.F. Corporate Park, Phase-III, Gurugram, Haryana. It was set up in 2003 and since then it has helped numerous infertile couples in completing their family. The point of the clinic is to be practical without neglecting the patient's security. Its prosperity rates are reliably high, which makes it outstanding amongst other IVF medical clinics in Gurgaon. Neelkanth Hospital is focused on providing all the essential administrations under one roof. The administrations gave under infertility medications are In Vitro Fertilization (IVF), Testicular Biopsy Sperm Aspiration (TESA), Laboratory Facilities and Donor Egg Program.

Neelkanth IVF Centre conveyed its first IVF infant in 2003 and since it has been effective in delivering in excess of 5000 children to childless couples. In its 35 years of presence, it has developed into a favored selection of couples in the locale.

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Best IVF Centre in Gurgaon

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IVF Cost in Gurgaon

IVF Cost in Gurgaon (In Vitro Fertilization) varies

Rs. 124,900 - Rs. 167,600

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Morpheus Thakral International IVF Centre

Morpheus Thakral International IVF Centre is a standout among the best concentration with the fundamental focus to giving advanced yet a sensible IVF treatment to their patients. This hospital is all around arranged and has capable Fertility Staff to give the best treatment. Scaled down scale Epididymal Sperm Longing and In Vitro Fertilization(IVF) are a few organizations gave by the hospital. Dr. Neeru Thakral and Dr. Alka Goel visit the hospital. It was developed in the year 2000 and starting now and into the foreseeable future, it is helping its patients with productive meds.

Neelkanth Hospital

Neelkanth Hospital stays for quality, viability, and tenacious work. We believe in giving reasonable treatment to our clients and treating ailments utilizing bleeding edge development, and with love and care. We place stock in the way that when industrious work and love meet, shrewd summits are made and consequently we deal with our patients and their issues thoughtfully.

Neelkanth is a pioneer in each sentiment of the world, for it gave Gurgaon its first IVF baby in 2003 and has been powerful in passing on more than 5000 children to childless couples. We are a multi speciality hospital and for us, our patient is our most astounding need. Neelkanth is more than a hospital, it's an undertaking planned to fill in as a guide of light in the life of childless gatekeepers and serve for the flourishing of the overall population with everything taken into account.

NEELKANTH HOSPITAL is a dream works out not surprisingly for the creator Dr. Himanshu Garg and Dr. Bindu Garg. They envisioned the likelihood of a hospital committed to the all-inclusive community of Gurgaon when there were not a lot of hospitals in the locale.

In mid-2000, when Gurgaon city was far behind in restorative workplaces, establishment, movement and moderateness, Neelkanth Hospital began with some other time of helpful present for Gurgaon and NCR. We have 37 pros recorded in Neelkanth Hospitals with broad information about the expert including capacity, experience, guideline, procedures and conditions treated, authority and then a few.

Neelkanth Hospital has helped various unproductive couples in completing their family. Their point is to be fiscally insightful without disregarding their patients' prosperity. Their flourishing rates are dependably high and this reason makes them unprecedented contrasted with other IVF hospitals in Gurgaon. Neelkanth Hospital is centered around giving all the fundamental organizations under one housetop. This hospital was built up by Dr. Bindu Garg and Dr. Himanshu Garg.

Dr. Shalini Jain Nawal is a depended on IVF Master in Segment 10 A, Gurgaon. She has more than twenty years of appreciating as an IVF Master. She is an MBBS Single man of Medicine and Lone ranger of Medical procedure, DGO. You can meet Dr. Shalini Jain Nawal actually at Sunrise Hospital in Division 10 A, Gurgaon. She has gotten 11 phenomenal inputs from cheerful patients. If you need to comprehend more noteworthy about Gynecologists in Gurgaon get in touch with us at Elawoman.Com.

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[ookamikasumi-writer]

Characters Tailor-made For the Plot

Let us begin with:

There are Three Essential Characters in Every Story --

The PROPONENT

The one trying to keep things the way they are.

Traditionally the Hero, the Protagonist with character traits designed specifically to work against the plot.

The ALLY

(Middle-man) – The close companion of one or the other.

The Companion, the Lover, or Best Friend that adds complications and makes matters worse. Also, traditionally the viewpoint character!  

The ADVERSARY

The one causing all the trouble.

The traditional Villain, the Antagonist that the Hero absolutely Cannot beat when the hero first enters the fray. You can tell any story with ONLY these Three Characters; perhaps not with any real detail, but you could still do the entire basic plot-line.

CHARACTER verses PLOT

You never want characters that could handle everything with ease - that's BORING. It should be a struggle every step of the way, especially for the Hero & the Villain, but avoid tossing in too much angst. No reader can handle whiny characters.

For the best results:

ALL your characters should have traits designed to work AGAINST the plot - and against each other. One physical trait (a handicap) and one mental trait (a fear) should be working against each character at all times.

Example:

A Vampire's physical Handicap is normally Sunlight.

His Fear is normally Discovery.

What about:

Predictability? Repetition? Standardization? Should we worry about the characters and plot being so - Structured?

Actually no. Hollywood uses this formula for characters in every single movie they make.

Lets look at three very different movies:

Miss Congeniality - Romantic Comedy

A Hero with character traits that work AGAINST the plot.

Gracie Hart is a wisecracking, serious-minded and somewhat clumsy FBI agent with a serious soft spot for helping those in need. She's never worn dresses or silly girl stuff. The FBI wants her to not only enter, but Win a beauty pageant.

A Companion to add complications and make matters worse.

A love interest that follows orders and never argues with his superiors.

A personal beauty trainer that will make her shine - in spite of herself.

A Villain that the Hero absolutely Cannot beat when they first enter the fray.

The intimidating and influential owner of the pageant.

The Matrix - Urban Fantasy

A Hero with character traits that work AGAINST the plot.

Neo is a quiet computer hacker. He deals in facts, not fantasy. He's not an action kind of guy but everyone thinks he's supposed to save the world. He thinks they're wrong.

A Companion to add complications and make matters worse.

Both Morpheus and Trinity believe in him - to the point that they keep risking their lives so he has to keep saving them.

A Villain that the Hero absolutely Cannot beat when they first enter the fray.

The matrix is a sentient mega-verse. Mr. Smith is a replicating Virus. It takes 3 whole movies to deal with these monstrous threats.

The Lost Boys – Vampire Classic

A Hero with character traits that work AGAINST the plot.

Michael desperately wants to fit in with a motorcycle gang that rules the entire town because he likes the girl that hangs with them. Michael does not believe in Vampires.

A Companion to add complications and make matters worse.

Michael has a nosy younger brother who is terrified of vampires.

A Villain that the hero absolutely Cannot beat when they first enter the fray.

Michael absolutely positively cannot defeat an entire gang of Vampires.

~ MAKING CHARACTERS ~

The Beginning Writer’s Pitfall MARY SUE / Gary Stue

Your memories allow you to sympathize with your Characters and write convincingly about what they are experiencing – but the character should not be a glorified model of the author.

A writer who identifies too closely with their character -- has committed the heinous crime of Mary Sue’ism.

A Mary Sue (or Harry Stu, if you're a guy,) is a character that you refuse to let come to harm. They are so perfect in every way, that they know exactly how to deal with every situation – which makes the story fall flat on it’s face.

How do you bring excitement back into your story?

Take YOU Out of your character.

By putting yourself into your characters, you end up having too much sympathy for them to ever allow them to suffer enough to make the plot really fly.

For most writers the Mary Sue adventure is their first story. Think of all the times as a child you pretended to be a character in your favorite cartoon? That was a Mary Sue / Harry Stu adventure. This was your first exercise in figuring out the motivations, goal and drives of the cartoon characters you are Making Pretend with. "So, why does the vampire want to get me anyway?"

Mary Sue is a good way to practice – but a bad way to get published.

Detaching the Writer from their Characters.

Goodness gracious, you have this great idea, but now you need people to play it out. If you can’t use yourself as a character--whom can you use?

Answer: Everybody else.

Exercise:

Pick an actor or fictional character from another story and use THEM as your character. The trick is to change their names and appearance enough to disguise them while leaving their base character - and dialogue - intact!

Every single one of my characters (in all 30+ titles published) comes from somewhere else.

Favorite characters I like to use:

Trinity from the Matrix

Keiffer Sutherland as David from the Lost Boys

Robert Carlyle from both Ravenous and Plunkett & McLean

Wolverine from the X-Men

Sandra Bullock no matter what movie she's in.

Johnny Depp as Icabod Crane from Sleepy Hollow

When building characters always remember: The End Justifies the Means.

Exercising your experience without becoming your characters.

Story is nothing without Good Strong Characters. And that means PAIN. But how do you write about the feelings of someone you don’t know? You Empathize – but you don’t fall in.

The Lost Boys:

Michael invites the girl of his dreams to go for a ride on his motorcycle. She agrees, but this other guy, on a bigger fancier bike comes out of nowhere and asks what she's doing. She ends up climbing onto another guy's motorcycle. She doesn't look happy about it, but she does it anyway. The other guy turns to Michael and invites him to get on his bike and come along. Michael knows a set-up when he hears one. He rolls his eyes and smiles sourly. "I can't beat your bike." The guy grins. "You don't have to beat me. You just have to keep up."

What is Michael feeling through all this?

The Matrix:

Neo has just received a Fed Ex package with a cell phone in it. He's holding the phone in his hand when it starts to ring. He answers it. "Neo, this is Morpheus. You have to get out of there. Now."

What is Neo feeling through all this?

Underworld:

Michael has had one hell of a day. First there was the shooting at the train station then the crap at his hospital job. He comes home to find a really beautiful and incredibly strong girl in his apartment and then he's running for his life from things galloping on the walls and ceiling. He escapes into an elevator and the door closes. The elevator door opens. A guy he's never seen before in his life smiles and says: "Hello Michael." Suddenly, bullets rip into the guy right in front of him. The guy falls forward onto Michel and bites him. Out of nowhere the strong girl comes and drags the weird guy off of him. Only the weird guy is laughing.

What is Michael feeling through all this?

No one needs to know whom you modeled your characters from; if you have enough differences in description and background they never will. They haven't guessed any of my characters yet and I have a stock set! Most characters change as you write them anyway, becoming their own entity.

The trick is to Start with something familiar and then, go with the flow, letting your characters progress and develop as they like, becoming their own individual selves.

Once you have a good Idea for a Character, you need to make that character YOURS. Begin by asking Three Questions. (Shamelessly stolen from Paperback Writer's blog.)

Three Questions

Who am I, and what do I do?

What do I want?

What's the absolute worst possible thing that could happen to me?

You need to know all three of these answers with EVERY main character you craft for every story you write. (The Hero, the Ally, AND the Villain too!)

The "worst possible thing" gives me EACH characters' Ordeal -- their darkest moment in the story.

Combining all THREE "Worst Possible Things" creates the "Crash and Burn" moment in the story where everything falls apart just before the story's big Climax.

Three Questions -- In Action: Leon - The Professional

Mathilda

I am a kid and my family has just been killed.

I need to destroy my enemy, before he destroys me.

Find me the perfect assassin – but make him too honorable to allow a kid to kill.

Leon

I am a professional assassin. I don’t kill kids or women.

I want to do my jobs and remain hidden from the police.

Have me take pity on a kid and hide her from her family’s killers, but make her determined to exact revenge – against the police. Oh, and make her a loud-mouth too.

The Cop

I am a crooked (and happily insane,) cop.

I need to protect my secrets.

Make person that knows my secrets a child – with a professional assassin for her guardian.

Crash and Burn

Having learned how to handle a gun from Leon, Mathilda trails the cop that murdered her family all the way to the precinct to kill him -- but she’s never actually killed anyone before. Face to face with her enemy, she bails at the last second. The Cop recognizes her as the only witness to his murder of a family, and trails her. Disappointed in her failure to avenge her family, Mathilda doesn't pay attention to the fact that the cop had spotted her, and is following her all the way back -- to Leon.

Sample of a Character Outline:

Who am I? "David and I am a Vampire."

What do I want? “To live.”

The absolute worst thing that could happen to me? “Having to choose between two people I care about.”

Motive: Loneliness & desperation to escape his master’s control.

Negative Trait: Extreme practicality. Embracing his death-dealing inhumanity. “I am a killer.”

Positive Trait: Loyalty and protectiveness toward his small brood.

Inner struggle: His unconscious hatred of his dark nature shows in his attacks on Michael’s assertions of humanity, in spite of his obviously vampiric nature. “You are a killer!”

Secret: Being a vampire is not as wonderful as he tells everyone else it is.

Fatal Flaw: (Their Greatest Strength/Greatest Weakness) He's a Vampire, an unstoppable all-powerful, immortal creature -- but only after sunset.

Greatest Fear: He will become the true monster his master is.

Appearance: Maybe 21, fair and small in stature. His absolute confidence makes him larger than life.

[allenmendezsr]

The Consistency Code Mental Game Coaching System

New Post has been published on https://autotraffixpro.app/allenmendezsr/the-consistency-code-mental-game-coaching-system/

The Consistency Code Mental Game Coaching System

 Buy Now

    “Yesterday we played a match play tournament and I applied some of your methods and it made a huge difference in my game. [… it made me feel so confident. Long story short, I eagled 9 so we took the team match. I was down 1 with 2 to go in individual match play and won 17 and 18 with clutch 5 foot par putts and won. Oh, and feel free to use these comments any way you want, this is by far the best money I’ve ever spent on my golf game. I look forward to doing some private sessions with you in the future.”

Regards, Rob Bartos Southwick, MA

Imagine harnessing the power of a method that makes you actually crave pressure, hit the quality shots when it matters most, feel no nerves over must make putts and play with an unstoppable inner confidence no matter what your handicap…

“I wonder if I’ll be able to hit the ball the way I need to. Geez, I hope people don’t think my game sucks. Will they be thinking “what is this guy doing in this tournament anyways, he’s got no game.” I won’t be able to handle it if I can’t play well tomorrow. Maybe I can call and drop out of the tournament.”

This was from Brett, a client of mine. His inner demons were crushing him. He’d lost before he started. You can see he had almost no chance of playing to his potential or enjoying the game. He’s not alone. How many of these are ruining your game?

Uncontrollable nerves

Inability to focus

Increased sense of pressure over important shots

Negative self talk

Performance anxiety

Mentally giving up

Not being able to pull of the shots needed when it matters most

And the list goes on…

Stop trying to wrestle with your inner demons, it’s a fight you can’t win

What you resist persists…

What demons do you try and wrestle into submission? How successful have your inner battles been? If you’re like many golfers I work with you continue to leave the golf course frustrated and perhaps even wonder if it’s worth playing the game at all.

The sad truth is it will stay like this unless you make some changes in how you use your mind.

It’s kind of like being trapped in a room and the building is on fire. There are two doors and a window but there are flames on the other side of the window and smoke is billowing under the cracks of the doors. You desperately need to get out but you can’t find a way.

One thing’s for sure, no one wants to be stuck in a burning building with no way out. Sadly, that’s exactly what’s happening to most golfers every round they play. They’re suffocating on the mental fumes of their own uncontrollable mind.

Remember, what you resist persists. The more you struggle the worse things get.

The Discovery that Changed the Game, Forever…

You see, I have a background in the Psychology of Human Excellence. I’m an NLP Trainer with Ericksonian Hypnosis training and a host of other skillsets. My life, before golf, was focused on helping others achieve real, dramatic improvements in mental and physical performance. Then, just like you, I got infected with the golf bug and was obsessed with playing as well as I could.

In a minute you’ll find out that I taught myself how to golf, without taking lessons, but wanted more than just a good swing. I wanted to win and play well all the time! But, like you, I experienced frustration at not being able to duplicate my great rounds and play as well in tournaments and competitive situations.

That was until I discovered something, almost by accident, that changed my game and the games (now numbering in the thousands) of my private clients and students from all over the world. It is so powerful and effective at dissolving virtually every single mental issue a golfer faces. The endless issues that prevent you from playing the way you are capable of.

Yet what you’re about to learn is it has NOTHING to do with the swing and EVERYTHING to do with how you use your mind…

The Golf Whisperer Method Was Born

While teaching myself how to golf through applying my knowledge of advanced peak performance strategies and accelerated learning techniques I got down to a 3 handicap, without taking lessons. Not bad, huh.

Other golfers began hearing about my results and begged me to work with them. I said “I’m not a golf teacher or a pro.” That didn’t stop them. They just wanted results. I told them again, “I’m not a golf instructor or a sports psychologist.” They just smiled, ignored my comments and conitnued to pursue me.

One client said it best, “you may not have a Phd but you clearly have a masters in results and I want the results you’re getting!” A few of them admiringly nicknamed me the Golf Whisperer. That name stuck and became my brand.

So I started working with golfers of all skill levels, men, women and children. Something incredible happened. Almost be accident. This discovery has become like a Viagra for your mind. Real, predictable, measurable mental potency. You’re about to see why this analogy fits so well…

“It’s The Best Inner Game Training I’ve Ever Seen”

The Golf Whisperer’s material is the best mental game instructional training I have ever seen in over 30 years as a golf professional at the highest level and I am personal friends with several of the well known mental game gurus on the PGA Tour.

There has never been a champion that didn’t have a strong mind and the ability to control their thoughts and their focus. These methods are comprehensive and reveal the fundamentals of the inner game more succinctly than anything I have ever seen.”

Bobby McIver, PGA Tour Coach & Author of The Heart of the Game

What do Viagra, covert mental game training & lower scores have in common?

Did you know that Viagra was an accident? The Pfizer company was working on a drug for a completely different purpose and were doing clinical trials. Then from participant feedback they found a peculiar side effect: men were staying erect for hours! This had nothing to do with what they were developing the drug for.

The side-effect became more powerful (and with some stimulating benefits…) than the original purpose of the drug! It was an accident. So here I was working away on golfers’ games from all over the world using covert mental techniques I’d developed during these personal client “trials.”

(what I was doing began to spread very quickly by word of mouth alone. I didn’t promote myself at all yet I was getting swamped with requests)

We worked with visualization techniques, cool mental imagery exercises and some insanely potent mental drills. Yet my focus when working with players was just to improve their game and make them learn it faster.

And then something incredible happened. The game changing event slapped me in the face! I don’t know why I didn’t see it earlier.

The “AHA” moment struck me when dozens of students began sending feedback and testimonials on how calm and confident they were while playing the game. They told me they stopped feeling nervous over shots. Their focus improved. A laundry list of mental game issues as long as your arm were melting away, one after another.

I’m going to show you how this side effect has become the biggest breakthrough in game improvement in the past 50 years. It will save you more strokes than a big headed driver or a new set of irons EVER will!

It’s like taking a magic pill that unlocks the full potential of your mind & body

Imagine having a simple system, a method so potent at supercharging your mind it’s like taking a magic pill that instantly cures EVERY conceivable inner game problem you experience??? This is exactly what the Golf Whisperer method does. It will take your mind places you’ve never been on the golf course, I guarantee it.

Are you ready to enter a whole new world in golf? Do you want the red pill or the blue one? Yes, just like Morpheus in the Matrix he asks you to choose a pill: the red one or the blue one.

The red pill is what you’re already taking, by default. Not doing anything IS taking the red pill. It’s the toughest pill to swallow and easy to choke on yet golfers will mindlessly continue to take it. Your experiences will continue to stay the same, game after game after game.

The Red Pill Golfer’s World

Negative self talk – you beat yourself up after almost every shot – if you talked to others the way you talk to yourself you’d probably have no friends and for sure few playing partners…

Missed pressure putts – contantly missing that putt to win or shoot a personal best score

Bad swings at the wrong time – just when you need it least “that” swing shows up

Play worse in compeition – it’s easy to play well with no-one watching or nothing on the line but how well do you play when competing?

Uncontrollable nerves – first tee jitters and even score crushing nervousness while you play

Lack of focus – a scattered mind that can’t focus will never allow you to shoot your lowest scores.

Poor decision making – not thinking clearly and being certain your shot selection and club selection are the BEST for the sutuation

Easily distracted – someone walking or talking near you, coughing, birds chirping or whatever else, scatters your brain and you lose focus on your shot

Mentally giving up when things aren’t going good – this is a killer of ever being a great player.

And this is just a short list!

It’s hard to calculate how many strokes a round you’re losing every time you play

Blue Pill Golfer’s World with Golf Whisperer Training

Laser focus – you don’t even notice distractions because you’re so dialed in

Calm under pressure – this will stun your playing partners at how casually you make clutch shots and putts

Mental toughness – you’ll have a “never quit” attitude, regardless of your score and when the going gets tough you dig even deeper

Clear decision making – this will save you a minimum of 4 strokes a round Excitement and anticipation for competitive matches and tournaments

Mastery over your nerves – quick and lasting methods for staying calm, centered and relaxed from the first tee to the last putt

Play better in competition than in casual rounds – yes, BETTER Enter the zone at will – No-one else is teaching this. Know why? They don’t know how. There’s a path that leads to the zone and I’ll give you the GPS

It’s time to take control of your mind and your game and play to the level you KNOW you are capable of, isn’t it?

Covert mental techniques used by green beret’s, olympic athletes, martial artists and secretively by a handful of pga pros…

Do you think it’s an accident that when Tiger Woods was at his peak years ago he had the most dominant mind the game has ever seen? His mental toughness and focus were almost legendary. I have yet to see any player even close to his level of mental control, have you?

This wasn’t by accident, fluke, luck or chance. It was by design. Hypnosis training and advanced mental strategies were used throughout his early years. I modelled these strategies, built on them and created an entirely new system that has taken things to a new level never before seen in golf. Bold statement? Sure. Can I prove it? Absolutely.

Better yet I’ll let my customers do it. After all, they’re the reason this method exists.

“I racked up 5 birdies & won the competition by a mile!”

[allenmendezsr]

The Consistency Code Mental Game Coaching System

New Post has been published on https://autotraffixpro.app/allenmendezsr/the-consistency-code-mental-game-coaching-system/

The Consistency Code Mental Game Coaching System

 Buy Now

    “Yesterday we played a match play tournament and I applied some of your methods and it made a huge difference in my game. [… it made me feel so confident. Long story short, I eagled 9 so we took the team match. I was down 1 with 2 to go in individual match play and won 17 and 18 with clutch 5 foot par putts and won. Oh, and feel free to use these comments any way you want, this is by far the best money I’ve ever spent on my golf game. I look forward to doing some private sessions with you in the future.”

Regards, Rob Bartos Southwick, MA

Imagine harnessing the power of a method that makes you actually crave pressure, hit the quality shots when it matters most, feel no nerves over must make putts and play with an unstoppable inner confidence no matter what your handicap…

“I wonder if I’ll be able to hit the ball the way I need to. Geez, I hope people don’t think my game sucks. Will they be thinking “what is this guy doing in this tournament anyways, he’s got no game.” I won’t be able to handle it if I can’t play well tomorrow. Maybe I can call and drop out of the tournament.”

This was from Brett, a client of mine. His inner demons were crushing him. He’d lost before he started. You can see he had almost no chance of playing to his potential or enjoying the game. He’s not alone. How many of these are ruining your game?

Uncontrollable nerves

Inability to focus

Increased sense of pressure over important shots

Negative self talk

Performance anxiety

Mentally giving up

Not being able to pull of the shots needed when it matters most

And the list goes on…

Stop trying to wrestle with your inner demons, it’s a fight you can’t win

What you resist persists…

What demons do you try and wrestle into submission? How successful have your inner battles been? If you’re like many golfers I work with you continue to leave the golf course frustrated and perhaps even wonder if it’s worth playing the game at all.

The sad truth is it will stay like this unless you make some changes in how you use your mind.

It’s kind of like being trapped in a room and the building is on fire. There are two doors and a window but there are flames on the other side of the window and smoke is billowing under the cracks of the doors. You desperately need to get out but you can’t find a way.

One thing’s for sure, no one wants to be stuck in a burning building with no way out. Sadly, that’s exactly what’s happening to most golfers every round they play. They’re suffocating on the mental fumes of their own uncontrollable mind.

Remember, what you resist persists. The more you struggle the worse things get.

The Discovery that Changed the Game, Forever…

You see, I have a background in the Psychology of Human Excellence. I’m an NLP Trainer with Ericksonian Hypnosis training and a host of other skillsets. My life, before golf, was focused on helping others achieve real, dramatic improvements in mental and physical performance. Then, just like you, I got infected with the golf bug and was obsessed with playing as well as I could.

In a minute you’ll find out that I taught myself how to golf, without taking lessons, but wanted more than just a good swing. I wanted to win and play well all the time! But, like you, I experienced frustration at not being able to duplicate my great rounds and play as well in tournaments and competitive situations.

That was until I discovered something, almost by accident, that changed my game and the games (now numbering in the thousands) of my private clients and students from all over the world. It is so powerful and effective at dissolving virtually every single mental issue a golfer faces. The endless issues that prevent you from playing the way you are capable of.

Yet what you’re about to learn is it has NOTHING to do with the swing and EVERYTHING to do with how you use your mind…

The Golf Whisperer Method Was Born

While teaching myself how to golf through applying my knowledge of advanced peak performance strategies and accelerated learning techniques I got down to a 3 handicap, without taking lessons. Not bad, huh.

Other golfers began hearing about my results and begged me to work with them. I said “I’m not a golf teacher or a pro.” That didn’t stop them. They just wanted results. I told them again, “I’m not a golf instructor or a sports psychologist.” They just smiled, ignored my comments and conitnued to pursue me.

One client said it best, “you may not have a Phd but you clearly have a masters in results and I want the results you’re getting!” A few of them admiringly nicknamed me the Golf Whisperer. That name stuck and became my brand.

So I started working with golfers of all skill levels, men, women and children. Something incredible happened. Almost be accident. This discovery has become like a Viagra for your mind. Real, predictable, measurable mental potency. You’re about to see why this analogy fits so well…

“It’s The Best Inner Game Training I’ve Ever Seen”

The Golf Whisperer’s material is the best mental game instructional training I have ever seen in over 30 years as a golf professional at the highest level and I am personal friends with several of the well known mental game gurus on the PGA Tour.

There has never been a champion that didn’t have a strong mind and the ability to control their thoughts and their focus. These methods are comprehensive and reveal the fundamentals of the inner game more succinctly than anything I have ever seen.”

Bobby McIver, PGA Tour Coach & Author of The Heart of the Game

What do Viagra, covert mental game training & lower scores have in common?

Did you know that Viagra was an accident? The Pfizer company was working on a drug for a completely different purpose and were doing clinical trials. Then from participant feedback they found a peculiar side effect: men were staying erect for hours! This had nothing to do with what they were developing the drug for.

The side-effect became more powerful (and with some stimulating benefits…) than the original purpose of the drug! It was an accident. So here I was working away on golfers’ games from all over the world using covert mental techniques I’d developed during these personal client “trials.”

(what I was doing began to spread very quickly by word of mouth alone. I didn’t promote myself at all yet I was getting swamped with requests)

We worked with visualization techniques, cool mental imagery exercises and some insanely potent mental drills. Yet my focus when working with players was just to improve their game and make them learn it faster.

And then something incredible happened. The game changing event slapped me in the face! I don’t know why I didn’t see it earlier.

The “AHA” moment struck me when dozens of students began sending feedback and testimonials on how calm and confident they were while playing the game. They told me they stopped feeling nervous over shots. Their focus improved. A laundry list of mental game issues as long as your arm were melting away, one after another.

I’m going to show you how this side effect has become the biggest breakthrough in game improvement in the past 50 years. It will save you more strokes than a big headed driver or a new set of irons EVER will!

It’s like taking a magic pill that unlocks the full potential of your mind & body

Imagine having a simple system, a method so potent at supercharging your mind it’s like taking a magic pill that instantly cures EVERY conceivable inner game problem you experience??? This is exactly what the Golf Whisperer method does. It will take your mind places you’ve never been on the golf course, I guarantee it.

Are you ready to enter a whole new world in golf? Do you want the red pill or the blue one? Yes, just like Morpheus in the Matrix he asks you to choose a pill: the red one or the blue one.

The red pill is what you’re already taking, by default. Not doing anything IS taking the red pill. It’s the toughest pill to swallow and easy to choke on yet golfers will mindlessly continue to take it. Your experiences will continue to stay the same, game after game after game.

The Red Pill Golfer’s World

Negative self talk – you beat yourself up after almost every shot – if you talked to others the way you talk to yourself you’d probably have no friends and for sure few playing partners…

Missed pressure putts – contantly missing that putt to win or shoot a personal best score

Bad swings at the wrong time – just when you need it least “that” swing shows up

Play worse in compeition – it’s easy to play well with no-one watching or nothing on the line but how well do you play when competing?

Uncontrollable nerves – first tee jitters and even score crushing nervousness while you play

Lack of focus – a scattered mind that can’t focus will never allow you to shoot your lowest scores.

Poor decision making – not thinking clearly and being certain your shot selection and club selection are the BEST for the sutuation

Easily distracted – someone walking or talking near you, coughing, birds chirping or whatever else, scatters your brain and you lose focus on your shot

Mentally giving up when things aren’t going good – this is a killer of ever being a great player.

And this is just a short list!

It’s hard to calculate how many strokes a round you’re losing every time you play

Blue Pill Golfer’s World with Golf Whisperer Training

Laser focus – you don’t even notice distractions because you’re so dialed in

Calm under pressure – this will stun your playing partners at how casually you make clutch shots and putts

Mental toughness – you’ll have a “never quit” attitude, regardless of your score and when the going gets tough you dig even deeper

Clear decision making – this will save you a minimum of 4 strokes a round Excitement and anticipation for competitive matches and tournaments

Mastery over your nerves – quick and lasting methods for staying calm, centered and relaxed from the first tee to the last putt

Play better in competition than in casual rounds – yes, BETTER Enter the zone at will – No-one else is teaching this. Know why? They don’t know how. There’s a path that leads to the zone and I’ll give you the GPS

It’s time to take control of your mind and your game and play to the level you KNOW you are capable of, isn’t it?

Covert mental techniques used by green beret’s, olympic athletes, martial artists and secretively by a handful of pga pros…

Do you think it’s an accident that when Tiger Woods was at his peak years ago he had the most dominant mind the game has ever seen? His mental toughness and focus were almost legendary. I have yet to see any player even close to his level of mental control, have you?

This wasn’t by accident, fluke, luck or chance. It was by design. Hypnosis training and advanced mental strategies were used throughout his early years. I modelled these strategies, built on them and created an entirely new system that has taken things to a new level never before seen in golf. Bold statement? Sure. Can I prove it? Absolutely.

Better yet I’ll let my customers do it. After all, they’re the reason this method exists.

“I racked up 5 birdies & won the competition by a mile!”

[allenmendezsr]

The Consistency Code Mental Game Coaching System

New Post has been published on https://autotraffixpro.app/allenmendezsr/the-consistency-code-mental-game-coaching-system/

The Consistency Code Mental Game Coaching System

 Buy Now

    “Yesterday we played a match play tournament and I applied some of your methods and it made a huge difference in my game. [… it made me feel so confident. Long story short, I eagled 9 so we took the team match. I was down 1 with 2 to go in individual match play and won 17 and 18 with clutch 5 foot par putts and won. Oh, and feel free to use these comments any way you want, this is by far the best money I’ve ever spent on my golf game. I look forward to doing some private sessions with you in the future.”

Regards, Rob Bartos Southwick, MA

Imagine harnessing the power of a method that makes you actually crave pressure, hit the quality shots when it matters most, feel no nerves over must make putts and play with an unstoppable inner confidence no matter what your handicap…

“I wonder if I’ll be able to hit the ball the way I need to. Geez, I hope people don’t think my game sucks. Will they be thinking “what is this guy doing in this tournament anyways, he’s got no game.” I won’t be able to handle it if I can’t play well tomorrow. Maybe I can call and drop out of the tournament.”

This was from Brett, a client of mine. His inner demons were crushing him. He’d lost before he started. You can see he had almost no chance of playing to his potential or enjoying the game. He’s not alone. How many of these are ruining your game?

Uncontrollable nerves

Inability to focus

Increased sense of pressure over important shots

Negative self talk

Performance anxiety

Mentally giving up

Not being able to pull of the shots needed when it matters most

And the list goes on…

Stop trying to wrestle with your inner demons, it’s a fight you can’t win

What you resist persists…

What demons do you try and wrestle into submission? How successful have your inner battles been? If you’re like many golfers I work with you continue to leave the golf course frustrated and perhaps even wonder if it’s worth playing the game at all.

The sad truth is it will stay like this unless you make some changes in how you use your mind.

It’s kind of like being trapped in a room and the building is on fire. There are two doors and a window but there are flames on the other side of the window and smoke is billowing under the cracks of the doors. You desperately need to get out but you can’t find a way.

One thing’s for sure, no one wants to be stuck in a burning building with no way out. Sadly, that’s exactly what’s happening to most golfers every round they play. They’re suffocating on the mental fumes of their own uncontrollable mind.

Remember, what you resist persists. The more you struggle the worse things get.

The Discovery that Changed the Game, Forever…

You see, I have a background in the Psychology of Human Excellence. I’m an NLP Trainer with Ericksonian Hypnosis training and a host of other skillsets. My life, before golf, was focused on helping others achieve real, dramatic improvements in mental and physical performance. Then, just like you, I got infected with the golf bug and was obsessed with playing as well as I could.

In a minute you’ll find out that I taught myself how to golf, without taking lessons, but wanted more than just a good swing. I wanted to win and play well all the time! But, like you, I experienced frustration at not being able to duplicate my great rounds and play as well in tournaments and competitive situations.

That was until I discovered something, almost by accident, that changed my game and the games (now numbering in the thousands) of my private clients and students from all over the world. It is so powerful and effective at dissolving virtually every single mental issue a golfer faces. The endless issues that prevent you from playing the way you are capable of.

Yet what you’re about to learn is it has NOTHING to do with the swing and EVERYTHING to do with how you use your mind…

The Golf Whisperer Method Was Born

While teaching myself how to golf through applying my knowledge of advanced peak performance strategies and accelerated learning techniques I got down to a 3 handicap, without taking lessons. Not bad, huh.

Other golfers began hearing about my results and begged me to work with them. I said “I’m not a golf teacher or a pro.” That didn’t stop them. They just wanted results. I told them again, “I’m not a golf instructor or a sports psychologist.” They just smiled, ignored my comments and conitnued to pursue me.

One client said it best, “you may not have a Phd but you clearly have a masters in results and I want the results you’re getting!” A few of them admiringly nicknamed me the Golf Whisperer. That name stuck and became my brand.

So I started working with golfers of all skill levels, men, women and children. Something incredible happened. Almost be accident. This discovery has become like a Viagra for your mind. Real, predictable, measurable mental potency. You’re about to see why this analogy fits so well…

“It’s The Best Inner Game Training I’ve Ever Seen”

The Golf Whisperer’s material is the best mental game instructional training I have ever seen in over 30 years as a golf professional at the highest level and I am personal friends with several of the well known mental game gurus on the PGA Tour.

There has never been a champion that didn’t have a strong mind and the ability to control their thoughts and their focus. These methods are comprehensive and reveal the fundamentals of the inner game more succinctly than anything I have ever seen.”

Bobby McIver, PGA Tour Coach & Author of The Heart of the Game

What do Viagra, covert mental game training & lower scores have in common?

Did you know that Viagra was an accident? The Pfizer company was working on a drug for a completely different purpose and were doing clinical trials. Then from participant feedback they found a peculiar side effect: men were staying erect for hours! This had nothing to do with what they were developing the drug for.

The side-effect became more powerful (and with some stimulating benefits…) than the original purpose of the drug! It was an accident. So here I was working away on golfers’ games from all over the world using covert mental techniques I’d developed during these personal client “trials.”

(what I was doing began to spread very quickly by word of mouth alone. I didn’t promote myself at all yet I was getting swamped with requests)

We worked with visualization techniques, cool mental imagery exercises and some insanely potent mental drills. Yet my focus when working with players was just to improve their game and make them learn it faster.

And then something incredible happened. The game changing event slapped me in the face! I don’t know why I didn’t see it earlier.

The “AHA” moment struck me when dozens of students began sending feedback and testimonials on how calm and confident they were while playing the game. They told me they stopped feeling nervous over shots. Their focus improved. A laundry list of mental game issues as long as your arm were melting away, one after another.

I’m going to show you how this side effect has become the biggest breakthrough in game improvement in the past 50 years. It will save you more strokes than a big headed driver or a new set of irons EVER will!

It’s like taking a magic pill that unlocks the full potential of your mind & body

Imagine having a simple system, a method so potent at supercharging your mind it’s like taking a magic pill that instantly cures EVERY conceivable inner game problem you experience??? This is exactly what the Golf Whisperer method does. It will take your mind places you’ve never been on the golf course, I guarantee it.

Are you ready to enter a whole new world in golf? Do you want the red pill or the blue one? Yes, just like Morpheus in the Matrix he asks you to choose a pill: the red one or the blue one.

The red pill is what you’re already taking, by default. Not doing anything IS taking the red pill. It’s the toughest pill to swallow and easy to choke on yet golfers will mindlessly continue to take it. Your experiences will continue to stay the same, game after game after game.

The Red Pill Golfer’s World

Negative self talk – you beat yourself up after almost every shot – if you talked to others the way you talk to yourself you’d probably have no friends and for sure few playing partners…

Missed pressure putts – contantly missing that putt to win or shoot a personal best score

Bad swings at the wrong time – just when you need it least “that” swing shows up

Play worse in compeition – it’s easy to play well with no-one watching or nothing on the line but how well do you play when competing?

Uncontrollable nerves – first tee jitters and even score crushing nervousness while you play

Lack of focus – a scattered mind that can’t focus will never allow you to shoot your lowest scores.

Poor decision making – not thinking clearly and being certain your shot selection and club selection are the BEST for the sutuation

Easily distracted – someone walking or talking near you, coughing, birds chirping or whatever else, scatters your brain and you lose focus on your shot

Mentally giving up when things aren’t going good – this is a killer of ever being a great player.

And this is just a short list!

It’s hard to calculate how many strokes a round you’re losing every time you play

Blue Pill Golfer’s World with Golf Whisperer Training

Laser focus – you don’t even notice distractions because you’re so dialed in

Calm under pressure – this will stun your playing partners at how casually you make clutch shots and putts

Mental toughness – you’ll have a “never quit” attitude, regardless of your score and when the going gets tough you dig even deeper

Clear decision making – this will save you a minimum of 4 strokes a round Excitement and anticipation for competitive matches and tournaments

Mastery over your nerves – quick and lasting methods for staying calm, centered and relaxed from the first tee to the last putt

Play better in competition than in casual rounds – yes, BETTER Enter the zone at will – No-one else is teaching this. Know why? They don’t know how. There’s a path that leads to the zone and I’ll give you the GPS

It’s time to take control of your mind and your game and play to the level you KNOW you are capable of, isn’t it?

Covert mental techniques used by green beret’s, olympic athletes, martial artists and secretively by a handful of pga pros…

Do you think it’s an accident that when Tiger Woods was at his peak years ago he had the most dominant mind the game has ever seen? His mental toughness and focus were almost legendary. I have yet to see any player even close to his level of mental control, have you?

This wasn’t by accident, fluke, luck or chance. It was by design. Hypnosis training and advanced mental strategies were used throughout his early years. I modelled these strategies, built on them and created an entirely new system that has taken things to a new level never before seen in golf. Bold statement? Sure. Can I prove it? Absolutely.

Better yet I’ll let my customers do it. After all, they’re the reason this method exists.

“I racked up 5 birdies & won the competition by a mile!”

[allenmendezsr]

The Consistency Code Mental Game Coaching System

New Post has been published on https://autotraffixpro.app/allenmendezsr/the-consistency-code-mental-game-coaching-system/

The Consistency Code Mental Game Coaching System

 Buy Now

    “Yesterday we played a match play tournament and I applied some of your methods and it made a huge difference in my game. [… it made me feel so confident. Long story short, I eagled 9 so we took the team match. I was down 1 with 2 to go in individual match play and won 17 and 18 with clutch 5 foot par putts and won. Oh, and feel free to use these comments any way you want, this is by far the best money I’ve ever spent on my golf game. I look forward to doing some private sessions with you in the future.”

Regards, Rob Bartos Southwick, MA

Imagine harnessing the power of a method that makes you actually crave pressure, hit the quality shots when it matters most, feel no nerves over must make putts and play with an unstoppable inner confidence no matter what your handicap…

“I wonder if I’ll be able to hit the ball the way I need to. Geez, I hope people don’t think my game sucks. Will they be thinking “what is this guy doing in this tournament anyways, he’s got no game.” I won’t be able to handle it if I can’t play well tomorrow. Maybe I can call and drop out of the tournament.”

This was from Brett, a client of mine. His inner demons were crushing him. He’d lost before he started. You can see he had almost no chance of playing to his potential or enjoying the game. He’s not alone. How many of these are ruining your game?

Uncontrollable nerves

Inability to focus

Increased sense of pressure over important shots

Negative self talk

Performance anxiety

Mentally giving up

Not being able to pull of the shots needed when it matters most

And the list goes on…

Stop trying to wrestle with your inner demons, it’s a fight you can’t win

What you resist persists…

What demons do you try and wrestle into submission? How successful have your inner battles been? If you’re like many golfers I work with you continue to leave the golf course frustrated and perhaps even wonder if it’s worth playing the game at all.

The sad truth is it will stay like this unless you make some changes in how you use your mind.

It’s kind of like being trapped in a room and the building is on fire. There are two doors and a window but there are flames on the other side of the window and smoke is billowing under the cracks of the doors. You desperately need to get out but you can’t find a way.

One thing’s for sure, no one wants to be stuck in a burning building with no way out. Sadly, that’s exactly what’s happening to most golfers every round they play. They’re suffocating on the mental fumes of their own uncontrollable mind.

Remember, what you resist persists. The more you struggle the worse things get.

The Discovery that Changed the Game, Forever…

You see, I have a background in the Psychology of Human Excellence. I’m an NLP Trainer with Ericksonian Hypnosis training and a host of other skillsets. My life, before golf, was focused on helping others achieve real, dramatic improvements in mental and physical performance. Then, just like you, I got infected with the golf bug and was obsessed with playing as well as I could.

In a minute you’ll find out that I taught myself how to golf, without taking lessons, but wanted more than just a good swing. I wanted to win and play well all the time! But, like you, I experienced frustration at not being able to duplicate my great rounds and play as well in tournaments and competitive situations.

That was until I discovered something, almost by accident, that changed my game and the games (now numbering in the thousands) of my private clients and students from all over the world. It is so powerful and effective at dissolving virtually every single mental issue a golfer faces. The endless issues that prevent you from playing the way you are capable of.

Yet what you’re about to learn is it has NOTHING to do with the swing and EVERYTHING to do with how you use your mind…

The Golf Whisperer Method Was Born

While teaching myself how to golf through applying my knowledge of advanced peak performance strategies and accelerated learning techniques I got down to a 3 handicap, without taking lessons. Not bad, huh.

Other golfers began hearing about my results and begged me to work with them. I said “I’m not a golf teacher or a pro.” That didn’t stop them. They just wanted results. I told them again, “I’m not a golf instructor or a sports psychologist.” They just smiled, ignored my comments and conitnued to pursue me.

One client said it best, “you may not have a Phd but you clearly have a masters in results and I want the results you’re getting!” A few of them admiringly nicknamed me the Golf Whisperer. That name stuck and became my brand.

So I started working with golfers of all skill levels, men, women and children. Something incredible happened. Almost be accident. This discovery has become like a Viagra for your mind. Real, predictable, measurable mental potency. You’re about to see why this analogy fits so well…

“It’s The Best Inner Game Training I’ve Ever Seen”

The Golf Whisperer’s material is the best mental game instructional training I have ever seen in over 30 years as a golf professional at the highest level and I am personal friends with several of the well known mental game gurus on the PGA Tour.

There has never been a champion that didn’t have a strong mind and the ability to control their thoughts and their focus. These methods are comprehensive and reveal the fundamentals of the inner game more succinctly than anything I have ever seen.”

Bobby McIver, PGA Tour Coach & Author of The Heart of the Game

What do Viagra, covert mental game training & lower scores have in common?

Did you know that Viagra was an accident? The Pfizer company was working on a drug for a completely different purpose and were doing clinical trials. Then from participant feedback they found a peculiar side effect: men were staying erect for hours! This had nothing to do with what they were developing the drug for.

The side-effect became more powerful (and with some stimulating benefits…) than the original purpose of the drug! It was an accident. So here I was working away on golfers’ games from all over the world using covert mental techniques I’d developed during these personal client “trials.”

(what I was doing began to spread very quickly by word of mouth alone. I didn’t promote myself at all yet I was getting swamped with requests)

We worked with visualization techniques, cool mental imagery exercises and some insanely potent mental drills. Yet my focus when working with players was just to improve their game and make them learn it faster.

And then something incredible happened. The game changing event slapped me in the face! I don’t know why I didn’t see it earlier.

The “AHA” moment struck me when dozens of students began sending feedback and testimonials on how calm and confident they were while playing the game. They told me they stopped feeling nervous over shots. Their focus improved. A laundry list of mental game issues as long as your arm were melting away, one after another.

I’m going to show you how this side effect has become the biggest breakthrough in game improvement in the past 50 years. It will save you more strokes than a big headed driver or a new set of irons EVER will!

It’s like taking a magic pill that unlocks the full potential of your mind & body

Imagine having a simple system, a method so potent at supercharging your mind it’s like taking a magic pill that instantly cures EVERY conceivable inner game problem you experience??? This is exactly what the Golf Whisperer method does. It will take your mind places you’ve never been on the golf course, I guarantee it.

Are you ready to enter a whole new world in golf? Do you want the red pill or the blue one? Yes, just like Morpheus in the Matrix he asks you to choose a pill: the red one or the blue one.

The red pill is what you’re already taking, by default. Not doing anything IS taking the red pill. It’s the toughest pill to swallow and easy to choke on yet golfers will mindlessly continue to take it. Your experiences will continue to stay the same, game after game after game.

The Red Pill Golfer’s World

Negative self talk – you beat yourself up after almost every shot – if you talked to others the way you talk to yourself you’d probably have no friends and for sure few playing partners…

Missed pressure putts – contantly missing that putt to win or shoot a personal best score

Bad swings at the wrong time – just when you need it least “that” swing shows up

Play worse in compeition – it’s easy to play well with no-one watching or nothing on the line but how well do you play when competing?

Uncontrollable nerves – first tee jitters and even score crushing nervousness while you play

Lack of focus – a scattered mind that can’t focus will never allow you to shoot your lowest scores.

Poor decision making – not thinking clearly and being certain your shot selection and club selection are the BEST for the sutuation

Easily distracted – someone walking or talking near you, coughing, birds chirping or whatever else, scatters your brain and you lose focus on your shot

Mentally giving up when things aren’t going good – this is a killer of ever being a great player.

And this is just a short list!

It’s hard to calculate how many strokes a round you’re losing every time you play

Blue Pill Golfer’s World with Golf Whisperer Training

Laser focus – you don’t even notice distractions because you’re so dialed in

Calm under pressure – this will stun your playing partners at how casually you make clutch shots and putts

Mental toughness – you’ll have a “never quit” attitude, regardless of your score and when the going gets tough you dig even deeper

Clear decision making – this will save you a minimum of 4 strokes a round Excitement and anticipation for competitive matches and tournaments

Mastery over your nerves – quick and lasting methods for staying calm, centered and relaxed from the first tee to the last putt

Play better in competition than in casual rounds – yes, BETTER Enter the zone at will – No-one else is teaching this. Know why? They don’t know how. There’s a path that leads to the zone and I’ll give you the GPS

It’s time to take control of your mind and your game and play to the level you KNOW you are capable of, isn’t it?

Covert mental techniques used by green beret’s, olympic athletes, martial artists and secretively by a handful of pga pros…

Do you think it’s an accident that when Tiger Woods was at his peak years ago he had the most dominant mind the game has ever seen? His mental toughness and focus were almost legendary. I have yet to see any player even close to his level of mental control, have you?

This wasn’t by accident, fluke, luck or chance. It was by design. Hypnosis training and advanced mental strategies were used throughout his early years. I modelled these strategies, built on them and created an entirely new system that has taken things to a new level never before seen in golf. Bold statement? Sure. Can I prove it? Absolutely.

Better yet I’ll let my customers do it. After all, they’re the reason this method exists.

“I racked up 5 birdies & won the competition by a mile!”

[allenmendezsr]

The Consistency Code Mental Game Coaching System

New Post has been published on https://autotraffixpro.app/allenmendezsr/the-consistency-code-mental-game-coaching-system/

The Consistency Code Mental Game Coaching System

 Buy Now

    “Yesterday we played a match play tournament and I applied some of your methods and it made a huge difference in my game. [… it made me feel so confident. Long story short, I eagled 9 so we took the team match. I was down 1 with 2 to go in individual match play and won 17 and 18 with clutch 5 foot par putts and won. Oh, and feel free to use these comments any way you want, this is by far the best money I’ve ever spent on my golf game. I look forward to doing some private sessions with you in the future.”

Regards, Rob Bartos Southwick, MA

Imagine harnessing the power of a method that makes you actually crave pressure, hit the quality shots when it matters most, feel no nerves over must make putts and play with an unstoppable inner confidence no matter what your handicap…

“I wonder if I’ll be able to hit the ball the way I need to. Geez, I hope people don’t think my game sucks. Will they be thinking “what is this guy doing in this tournament anyways, he’s got no game.” I won’t be able to handle it if I can’t play well tomorrow. Maybe I can call and drop out of the tournament.”

This was from Brett, a client of mine. His inner demons were crushing him. He’d lost before he started. You can see he had almost no chance of playing to his potential or enjoying the game. He’s not alone. How many of these are ruining your game?

Uncontrollable nerves

Inability to focus

Increased sense of pressure over important shots

Negative self talk

Performance anxiety

Mentally giving up

Not being able to pull of the shots needed when it matters most

And the list goes on…

Stop trying to wrestle with your inner demons, it’s a fight you can’t win

What you resist persists…

What demons do you try and wrestle into submission? How successful have your inner battles been? If you’re like many golfers I work with you continue to leave the golf course frustrated and perhaps even wonder if it’s worth playing the game at all.

The sad truth is it will stay like this unless you make some changes in how you use your mind.

It’s kind of like being trapped in a room and the building is on fire. There are two doors and a window but there are flames on the other side of the window and smoke is billowing under the cracks of the doors. You desperately need to get out but you can’t find a way.

One thing’s for sure, no one wants to be stuck in a burning building with no way out. Sadly, that’s exactly what’s happening to most golfers every round they play. They’re suffocating on the mental fumes of their own uncontrollable mind.

Remember, what you resist persists. The more you struggle the worse things get.

The Discovery that Changed the Game, Forever…

You see, I have a background in the Psychology of Human Excellence. I’m an NLP Trainer with Ericksonian Hypnosis training and a host of other skillsets. My life, before golf, was focused on helping others achieve real, dramatic improvements in mental and physical performance. Then, just like you, I got infected with the golf bug and was obsessed with playing as well as I could.

In a minute you’ll find out that I taught myself how to golf, without taking lessons, but wanted more than just a good swing. I wanted to win and play well all the time! But, like you, I experienced frustration at not being able to duplicate my great rounds and play as well in tournaments and competitive situations.

That was until I discovered something, almost by accident, that changed my game and the games (now numbering in the thousands) of my private clients and students from all over the world. It is so powerful and effective at dissolving virtually every single mental issue a golfer faces. The endless issues that prevent you from playing the way you are capable of.

Yet what you’re about to learn is it has NOTHING to do with the swing and EVERYTHING to do with how you use your mind…

The Golf Whisperer Method Was Born

While teaching myself how to golf through applying my knowledge of advanced peak performance strategies and accelerated learning techniques I got down to a 3 handicap, without taking lessons. Not bad, huh.

Other golfers began hearing about my results and begged me to work with them. I said “I’m not a golf teacher or a pro.” That didn’t stop them. They just wanted results. I told them again, “I’m not a golf instructor or a sports psychologist.” They just smiled, ignored my comments and conitnued to pursue me.

One client said it best, “you may not have a Phd but you clearly have a masters in results and I want the results you’re getting!” A few of them admiringly nicknamed me the Golf Whisperer. That name stuck and became my brand.

So I started working with golfers of all skill levels, men, women and children. Something incredible happened. Almost be accident. This discovery has become like a Viagra for your mind. Real, predictable, measurable mental potency. You’re about to see why this analogy fits so well…

“It’s The Best Inner Game Training I’ve Ever Seen”

The Golf Whisperer’s material is the best mental game instructional training I have ever seen in over 30 years as a golf professional at the highest level and I am personal friends with several of the well known mental game gurus on the PGA Tour.

There has never been a champion that didn’t have a strong mind and the ability to control their thoughts and their focus. These methods are comprehensive and reveal the fundamentals of the inner game more succinctly than anything I have ever seen.”

Bobby McIver, PGA Tour Coach & Author of The Heart of the Game

What do Viagra, covert mental game training & lower scores have in common?

Did you know that Viagra was an accident? The Pfizer company was working on a drug for a completely different purpose and were doing clinical trials. Then from participant feedback they found a peculiar side effect: men were staying erect for hours! This had nothing to do with what they were developing the drug for.

The side-effect became more powerful (and with some stimulating benefits…) than the original purpose of the drug! It was an accident. So here I was working away on golfers’ games from all over the world using covert mental techniques I’d developed during these personal client “trials.”

(what I was doing began to spread very quickly by word of mouth alone. I didn’t promote myself at all yet I was getting swamped with requests)

We worked with visualization techniques, cool mental imagery exercises and some insanely potent mental drills. Yet my focus when working with players was just to improve their game and make them learn it faster.

And then something incredible happened. The game changing event slapped me in the face! I don’t know why I didn’t see it earlier.

The “AHA” moment struck me when dozens of students began sending feedback and testimonials on how calm and confident they were while playing the game. They told me they stopped feeling nervous over shots. Their focus improved. A laundry list of mental game issues as long as your arm were melting away, one after another.

I’m going to show you how this side effect has become the biggest breakthrough in game improvement in the past 50 years. It will save you more strokes than a big headed driver or a new set of irons EVER will!

It’s like taking a magic pill that unlocks the full potential of your mind & body

Imagine having a simple system, a method so potent at supercharging your mind it’s like taking a magic pill that instantly cures EVERY conceivable inner game problem you experience??? This is exactly what the Golf Whisperer method does. It will take your mind places you’ve never been on the golf course, I guarantee it.

Are you ready to enter a whole new world in golf? Do you want the red pill or the blue one? Yes, just like Morpheus in the Matrix he asks you to choose a pill: the red one or the blue one.

The red pill is what you’re already taking, by default. Not doing anything IS taking the red pill. It’s the toughest pill to swallow and easy to choke on yet golfers will mindlessly continue to take it. Your experiences will continue to stay the same, game after game after game.

The Red Pill Golfer’s World

Negative self talk – you beat yourself up after almost every shot – if you talked to others the way you talk to yourself you’d probably have no friends and for sure few playing partners…

Missed pressure putts – contantly missing that putt to win or shoot a personal best score

Bad swings at the wrong time – just when you need it least “that” swing shows up

Play worse in compeition – it’s easy to play well with no-one watching or nothing on the line but how well do you play when competing?

Uncontrollable nerves – first tee jitters and even score crushing nervousness while you play

Lack of focus – a scattered mind that can’t focus will never allow you to shoot your lowest scores.

Poor decision making – not thinking clearly and being certain your shot selection and club selection are the BEST for the sutuation

Easily distracted – someone walking or talking near you, coughing, birds chirping or whatever else, scatters your brain and you lose focus on your shot

Mentally giving up when things aren’t going good – this is a killer of ever being a great player.

And this is just a short list!

It’s hard to calculate how many strokes a round you’re losing every time you play

Blue Pill Golfer’s World with Golf Whisperer Training

Laser focus – you don’t even notice distractions because you’re so dialed in

Calm under pressure – this will stun your playing partners at how casually you make clutch shots and putts

Mental toughness – you’ll have a “never quit” attitude, regardless of your score and when the going gets tough you dig even deeper

Clear decision making – this will save you a minimum of 4 strokes a round Excitement and anticipation for competitive matches and tournaments

Mastery over your nerves – quick and lasting methods for staying calm, centered and relaxed from the first tee to the last putt

Play better in competition than in casual rounds – yes, BETTER Enter the zone at will – No-one else is teaching this. Know why? They don’t know how. There’s a path that leads to the zone and I’ll give you the GPS

It’s time to take control of your mind and your game and play to the level you KNOW you are capable of, isn’t it?

Covert mental techniques used by green beret’s, olympic athletes, martial artists and secretively by a handful of pga pros…

Do you think it’s an accident that when Tiger Woods was at his peak years ago he had the most dominant mind the game has ever seen? His mental toughness and focus were almost legendary. I have yet to see any player even close to his level of mental control, have you?

This wasn’t by accident, fluke, luck or chance. It was by design. Hypnosis training and advanced mental strategies were used throughout his early years. I modelled these strategies, built on them and created an entirely new system that has taken things to a new level never before seen in golf. Bold statement? Sure. Can I prove it? Absolutely.

Better yet I’ll let my customers do it. After all, they’re the reason this method exists.

“I racked up 5 birdies & won the competition by a mile!”