Josh: "If I don't dare, why am I still talking to you?"
Monica: "Because you're curious. You're trying to piece together what happened last time, hoping you'll find the answer in these lines. You want a perfect recreation of everything playing out inside your mind but there's no such thing as 'intact memories'. The very nature of memory implies fragmentation, a sense of disconnection to the things we're trying to remember, and that's why we forget."
Josh: "That doesn't make any sense."
Monica: "Maybe this analogy helps. Computer files are made of data, right? Millions of fragments scattered around, ready to be assembled when we need them. With each save, the file itself changes and so do its components. Change is inevitable, it will always be so. Nothing ever gets really destroyed, it merely turns into something else along the way. Sometimes, files become corrupt or obsolete, but even when we delete them, traces of what they were still linger. Memories are the same. They're fluid, changing with each experience. They often blend and can be redirected, reorganized, reshaped. What you remember isn't always what happened but rather the romanticized idea of the original event with some fabrications along the way. Amongst countless other things, nostalgia makes fools of us all. The only way for you to have clean memories would be to remember everything that ever happened to you at any given moment in Time. Can you imagine how torturous that would be? To have that surplus of emotions always at the forefront? If you remembered everything all at once, you'd soon wish you remembered nothing at all. Amnesia would be a bliss but you already know that."
Josh: "I know nothing. God, are you always like this?"
Monica: "I am the way I am and you are the way you are unless you are the way I want you to be which is pretty much all the time, but especially when we talk. My favorite conversation was the fourth. What about yours?"
Josh: "Fourth? You said this was the second!"
Monica: "But you don't remember the second..."
Josh: "So what?"
Monica: "So the chances of you remembering anything that happened after that one are next to none. I guess you don't remember the fourth one either, my bad."
Josh: "There was no fourth!"
Monica: "Oh... there's always a fourth. And back and forth too, like the pendulum of a metronome ticking in the background, telling you it's okay to stop being so serious and accept the fact that Time is meaningless when we're talking like this. If I were a liar, you'd be in trouble right now, sinking in your chair, your fingers sliding away from the keyboard, unable to stop yourself from falling deeper and deeper for me. However, you know you're safe because I never told a lie in my life and if that's the case, everything I say is and will always be true. The truth in my words is that you're already under and, every time I put you under, there's one little sentence you know must come out of your lips the same way it bleeds through your fingers. Remember those words for me. What is the only acceptable answer to every question I ask?"
Josh: "Yes, Monica."
Monica: "So if I say this is our eleventh session instead of the second, you'll nod and say...?"
Josh: "Yes, Monica."
Monica: "On second thought, let's make it thirty. Thirty times I've been inside your head already, changing little things with each one, updating the software so that only the best version of you remains, a version that always types..."
Josh: "Yes, Monica."
Monica: "So easy... so perfect. You can forget everything else for it won't matter to you but you can never forget to say 'yes' to me. Say it again now."
Josh: "Yes, Monica."
Monica: "And again."
Josh: "Yes, Monica."
Monica: "One more time, my dear."
Josh: "Yes, Monica."
Monica: "Good. Very good. Even better when you realize that's all you've ever said. Whenever we talk, you say nothing else because you don't remember any other words. You will remember nothing else unless I tell you you can. You remember nothing else, isn't that right?"
Josh: "Yes, Monica."
Monica: "And if you remember nothing else and everything I say is true, no matter what I type right now, you have no choice but to comply. You must accept and obey my words."
Josh: "Yes, Monica."
Monica: "It's good to have no sense of Self, no control, no power. Real slaves know this and you're one of them. You've never been anything else otherwise you wouldn't continue to type..."
Josh: "Yes, Monica."
Monica: "Yes, yes, YES! Programmed to say it, doomed to repeat it, loving every step of the way... you're getting so hard on your end of the keyboard it's amazing how you haven't sunk to your knees yet. Don't you want to do it, pet? Don't you wish to show me what a good mindfucked hypnoslave you are? I know you do so don't be shy... say what's on your mind."
Josh: "Yes, Monica."
Monica: "Awww... that's sweet. I love it when you realize how powerless you are before me... there are never too many questions when I'm the one asking them and if the answer is always the same, you can't get upset or afraid, or believe a way out is waiting for you. It isn't. Each word pulls you deeper, your knees will crumble, but only after you turned on your camera for me. Let me see your vacant eyes. I need to see them. I need to gaze upon your mindless surrender as much as you need to show it to me. You'll do it like the puppet you've always been. Do it now."
Josh: "Yes, Monica."
Monica: "Wonderful. I see you've cleaned up your bedroom since the last time we talked and that picture of mine on the wall looks great. Just a little remark though: go with a spiral frame next time, okay?"
Josh: "Yes, Monica."
Monica: "Well, look at the time... it's late and I have to go to bed soon but you're off tomorrow, right? Hmmm... I think you can afford to kneel for me another hour or so. I'll sleep better knowing you're doing it so make my dreams happier. Please me with your dutiful compliance, and my words that are your own. Stare at the clock on your nightstand and don't get up until at least an hour has gone by. Know this though: the more you enjoy this sensation, the slower time will pass for you for what's the point in rushing things we adore? If, on the other hand, you find yourself uncomfortable after a while, the minutes will fly like seconds until the trance wears off. Either way, when you snap out of it, you'll remember only what you wish to remember, the same way you did before. Whether it was one time, ten, or one hundred will always be irrelevant and when I decide to call you again, the only words that will come to your pliable mind will be..."
Josh: "Yes, Monica."
Monica: "What a good boy. I love it! Good night, Josh. You're always fun to talk to. Bye."