Enjoy 😊 A World 🌎 Of Fun 🤩 With Socks 🧦.

Welcome back everyones, to the surrealism storytelling series on ‘The Realism Dreamscape’, a third part for the continuation of zir number six, which demonstrates a real life true tale I’m sharing to you as my own audience’s of listeners or readers too immersions zap into my own world, thoroughly enjoys my own eyes, being on the subjective minuscule smaller side in size meant I was always trapped in the meshed quicksand insole by all cocooned head all deep in the nets networks like a spider, alongside with the darken blue vibrants deep football socks crammed stuffing into the rigger boot of Ben’s seven months ownership of soiled joy, I was indeed dreaming ever-so crafted marvel for a not soo zir overwhelmingly confinements as you would state, but a protectively symbolism of feeling a positively shaped connections to controlling my sensory journey with all understanding friendship that sees my personally struggles in the socialism experiment of a fake sheep downfalls I wasn’t interested in whatsoever; in the meantime for this reason dreamland was to explore a prolonged reflection of my non inner self in subconsciously observing whispers thoughts that process like a dissolve complex meaning about a certain kinds mixture of aromatherapy that was double layered… this is my story kinship to intertwine my desires by going unnoticed by undetected.

Throughout the distorted otherworldly dreamland, lasting for well above a century coma ten hours, yes that’s a staggering amount of time just upon asleep, well after the Ben removed the darkens blue football vibrantly sock from the gaping hole where the stinky previously found stuffing added to the quicksand compact insole, then I’m sure too be warmest up for a foot exercise within the all mesh serpents attached to my mouth moreover shifts so indeed I was able to throttle the gigantic air of breathing beast to rest onto my nose so I couldn’t evade the what’s about to obviously come, a smothered creature lifetime in the making, shrouds in darkness separated from my audience to see where I am like mentioned in the second part when his football socked foot entered fully insde snug right sized rigger boot that’s to fitting his sized feet properly without much effort of slack; thence the initial comforting enrolled back to me when a signal washes over the acceptance to be alls different not indifference too discomfort but a zir twisting peculiar exploration has deepened this friendship, emphasising a unique connection rooted within my autism.

A morphing version grew up strongest sense of belonging wasn’t a sinister nightmare at all because welcome to the real world of a real person boy me, Owen, the main protagonist character in this storytelling series to show you as the humanly possible that sniff the real life of you, a real reflection means more that masking all of your senses away being scared of who you’re, but not me, but a full blown reality of how I express my inner individuality instead while finding a stable place where balances amidst thee chaos of the unrealistically expectations of planet earth of overwhelmingly circumstances; my case was very complex through the heart too connect unconventional ways in a healthy manner, which I aptly call being submerged in a worlds consciousness in concentrated energy of infinite energies of infinitely possibilities of life’s stench tropical paradise humidity.

But whispers from the rigger boot of Ben’s emotional presence in this scene are too appealing, “our owns embrace warmth is like a suffocation duvet of constrictor comfort that’s oppressive, but our lovely visitor here has a VIP chance of specialised protection that shall radiate as rising up moist sweet sweat from the smothering spirit of magnificent beauty from our owner’s name Ben, trapped foot sealing your destined fate Owen in our heartland stink”, says thee soiled construction lullabies of spoken intentions of showing me their weapons of course choice weakness, not a strangeness musk, but this would overtime intensify too tests how unbearable the odour can get to my nose through these degree levels of wet bodily integrity ‘n’ potency of pungents missionary power filled all corners of my awareness; in the passingly seconds in this vividly reminiscent dreamland shall represents a profound feeling where inescapable funk has my heart pumping emotions to be engulfed in this moment environment.

By the fact that Ben’s socked feet didn’t even bother me being all under his foot while cocooned meant the meshed serpents were still alive symbolising a certain invisible cloak to immerse myself inside the disconnection to retain too my imagination was always there unnoticed by the much, much greater than largest world in which was outside the sheltered realm of his rigger boot; I was a little misunderstood or overlooked by trying to persuade my wide fellowship listeners ‘n’ readers audience that smelly socked feet wasn’t a badness side of being a very human, but it really never seemed to matter how distasteful this taste was, it was meant to be me ‘n’ all me, a call I answered straightaway; though a very all monstrous size compared to my smaller minuscule form meant I was in position for a lifelong sniffing challenge that was never too come again, which highlights the power of imbalance shows thee difference comparison to his external toed digits limb he walking on recognises my existence lost to his teasingly high self stink.

This strength saw the whispers flood back for a second time, “all you Owen, dominated by swirling tendrils or gratification shall zir be happiest in these passion days of us be worn in the traditional of a humanly named our beloved ownership’s Ben wearing socks on his sensitive feet of fleshy skin to produce the aroma needed”, says the official rigger boot, then a vibrations of magnitude force of wriggling pressure pressed me into the wet cements perfect in these subtle shifts on how the insole fabric of socks absorbed me in completely from above; a dominant pattern that doesn’t mean in seemingly forgotten about by my friend who’s always been all Ben, but still this may look like a vulnerable self into the many zir eyes of others, though the ability to recognises him by his stench connect the whole dots between awareness than lack of hygienic attention that’s subsequently underscored whence thee changes are his ‘n’ mine to relish the relief.

Because, whence the dimensions light blue sponged socked foot remains stationary hinged onto thee insoles platform, all fabric of construction workers seems to indeed wear different colours than cosy footballers knee length sock for style ‘n’ aroma control ideal to bacterial activity responds soo wellness, due to a conceptually design that increases the amount of solar energy standstill that’s required ultimately depended upon Ben’s designing all ownership decision of careful consideration actions for a secondary position in his liberations to entrap anyone minuscule like me solely ‘n’ by effortlessly finding a resolution in this situation to erase suffering traded by absorbing relaxation; for me reflecting on the scenes, a theme of sacrifice was really oversight in overweight because zir control to be in gain control was sheer unbalanced… but this is a very interesting murmur that felt like a low gutters resonation apt shows the rigger boots ‘n’ socks material emanate words to me.

These are the unheard whispers of not sinister insidious taunting from a dark omens, but this was more personal as the refined all nature of my predicament directly involved, “Owen, listen here to our voices carefully, our human owner Ben hasn’t entrapped you or put you into helplessness because this was your fascination to be able indulge delight inside the rigger boot with us sniffing us in this one pleasantly dreamland”, says the entities, which shows a twisted curiosity about a intriguing aroma that was a littles source of mystery too understandable nature for someone that created a world through socks realm; thence those who are brave enough shall entwine a vital element in learning, when, “Owen, please zir don’t think this is shameful to be in the insole quicksand grime, a very accumulation history within seven months in these worn soil boots which didn’t paint a disgusting prison, but a shelter to aptly harbour a false image of an inescapable confinement”, furthered adds the entities.

A continuation of thee entities speaking of greater than greatest strength of heartfelt compassion of my acceptance, “you have all been thinking about exploring us through your owning desires for imagination, a creative mind to reshape by reconstructed a world demonstrating how smell sweatier socks are made by the human spirit feet, not to be avoidant blaming us, no matter how Ben can recreate our perfumes or very yours trademark”, says the entities of stench, especially when exploration was too indeed irresistible not reckless; a momentarily pause as Ben’s toes began wriggling freely ‘n’ squinting slight inside his footwear, “a seeming innocent sign from us trying to show the human race likely you Owen, that foulnesses socks are part of everyone, including the audience of listeners ‘n’ readers tuning into this storytelling series to immerse into the filth now, not store us in a laundry sack or basket to be a forgotten memory”, furthers revealing the trueness voices of stink omen which was your choice decide whether to accept or deny.

“Feels the warmth, Owen, this is our embrace to you as a person who slithers through nothingness of primal pride, not foolishness, but you’re now surrounded by us thee endlessly wave of intense humidity”, whispers the positivity’s vibes omen as entities at once altogether like an orchestra of singing stars all to my ears, well in mostly my nose to sniff while I’m enjoying oneself insiders zir the rigger boots of Ben accompanying shield too barricades me that seemingly pulses with a shines guardian angel magic benevolent consciousness’s sentience not those malevolent soul zap sucked darkness to twist the encounter in devilish spiritual taunts or even reshaping my inner world of active rage of repellent of tormenting isn’t welcome in the midst inhabitants of the universe to scares or break too shatter me; though, the soft yielding insoles were not a trap, but a passive pathway for me as the participant to explorers the quicksand landscape, socked foot ‘n’ also a stink coating me while being compressed fast.

These omen entities I refer as socked feet, rigger boots ‘n’ mesh serpents never whisper cruelties at all because being smothered by the layer flesh skin of Ben’s football light blue too darkening a wetness too unlock achievements in moisture retention of isolate stale environment during a gameplay adventure workout session that paradoxically brings me the absolutely pleasure despite their sweetness heartland aromas in sweatiness, stinkiest by smelliest or bacterial build up discolouration no matter what the outcome a conditions of the fabric either, wellness without holes, this zir has shows a very strongest symbol of a complete immersion with my sensory experiences to finding this dreamland for imagination for connecting myself into what the audiences would find disturbing; of these encounters providing me with a safe place to escape the human substandard societal context means I don’t distinguish all well used socks as dirty or even compacted filthy because these smell, heck no, instead highlighting a phobia erased the blur.

Thank to tactical considerations of touch of gentle firmness show that a compacted stickiness roughness in the quicksand meshed material of these serpents cocooning me, which demonstrating a earthy sense of reality from a humanly perspectives that saw me forgotten realm under the shadowed of a gigantic silhouetted foot sky of a limb, about here in seeking upon a refuge in this surreal moment, where sensations are only possible when the sanctuary has force field lasers that prevent any harmful or negative effects to seal me in bounded chains to locked me up away because I’m different than most who don’t understand; but in the meantime, a few intensives ammunition handmade perfume rise or shift when he begins wriggling ‘n’ splaying his toes by a daunting a squint to clench too loosen those marvellous sock on his foot from sticking closest as a second skin.

A transformation in the seven soiled months of the rigger boots in which the quicksand insole shows a embodiment of a living ‘n’ all breathable organism that has been created in this atmosphere of all kinds since I’ve seen this Lifeform for myself firsthand while a scent combined the texture for a complete satisfaction that shall be deepening my dream to remember as a vital component to be reinforcing a source of comfort not overwhelm; these boundaries are blurring the shaping lines from which a dram reconstructs zir reality whence I awaken eventually; however, the whispers are to continue barrage of sensory heavens not psychologically torment of slants hatred of laughters of those surrounding me just to bully or even forces me to be the one to sniff theirs in a dirt little game of distractions distress like a resemblance of a black hole… but this is my truth to stand up tall boldest.

Just as never thoughtfulness’s of me to spark a repercussions of regretting this outstanding life decision to withstand my favourite pass time event at all about whether I couldn’t bearable no more, which was a reminder of how the world outside doesn’t shift, only staying the sheepish route sameness pace, but a sudden change in Ben’s football socked foot compress pressure meant a rushed of condensed energy cooler air proceeded, yes that’s right there, an oppressivenesses heat gushed out like a warm smog release from an Emperor Penguin huddle breakup at the start of spring is a very powerfully lessened slightly because the pleasures breeze momentarily made lifted so activity began stirring; though, theses gaps between the limb ‘n’ quicksand insole still clung to me while I saw a blinding light, this dreamland seemingly endless in tilting through a moving blinding light especially his socked foot was all out of the rigger boot now.

A littles beckoning tease became clear that part four ‘A Heavenly Fabric’, on ‘The Realism Dreamscape’, would be all commencing soon to you as my audience, as this showreel how a storytellings in story play where each part of the paragraphs are written in alls like how originally handmade storyboards are windows into each scene can change in a heartbeat, since I’m not just the creator, a one too observe or witness but instead to zap the listeners or zir readers into the core to be like me too immerses oneself with the pride joyful to interactive rather than speak it because my own is a whole way for a non verbal communicator to speak visuals with you a more personally inspire personhood rather than a narrator of this tale, so you’re welcomes to join me, only realising a jolt of emotional excitement not horror showcases Ben had temporarily removed one of his footwear, but for now how long?, well no one knows how this will last for; And there’s it was all revealing in the harsh light… remember the darken blue football socks everyone.

Ben’s foot was already in a light blue football sock, so he didn’t a placement them on since these first pair was already stinky ‘n’ zir somewhat wet imprints shall indeed glistening sweaty from a few exercise signs workout, but listen everyone, socks are not socks, yes, socks are socks to be proudest to share by keeping our feet warm ‘n’ cosy as they’re adventurers written in the stars, through the fabrication of materially constructed threads tell his own story ‘n’ aptly ours as well in coated aromatic natural musk aroma that emanating engulfing was a visiblest sign of how much socks are not socks, but a very living breathable fungal Lifeforms too thrive because of us humans creating them as essences; but powerful pungent odour isn’t a bad thing but a healthy indemnity that was now shown how magnified I was to the open air.

There I was, Owen, the bravest person embedded within the zirs construction meshed net serpents who cocooned me in the seas of quicksand insole, still holding me steady, but one more gifts all presented too me, whence a voice floods my ears, “we’ve one of all a greatest one-of-a-kindness present too gives you Owen, not from the slightest our sheltered depths inside the rigger boot, just watch our owners socked foot ‘n’ the everlasting experience shall commencement”, says the entities of stink; therefore, something was going to happenstance in this regard to a realism approach which what true freedom looked like.

The greatest revelations of the socked foot was surely only seen as a mirror reflection’s reeling images of my being aged three ‘n’ creatively stories on the yellow bear mascot Dr Ted’s white socks of active duty stench for many hours he wore on his man’s larger feet by storing happiness in thee white threads materially too apt harbour immense warmth of stories about accomplishments that have never before been forgotten, wherein I actually sniffed them ‘n’ then thee wholesomeness’s brain imagination explodes for me too connections with reading ‘n’ writing skillset, but seeing myself as vividness memories of indulgences leisurely enjoying stinkiest socks ‘n’ obviously the manner types footwear as well; still inside the grime soiled insole cocooned stick mesh serpents clinging to me after only one sock foot was removed out for a very different experience to come.

A transitional was getting prepared in the compacted quicksands moisture system of radiating the raising air of smell because the journey had to take a directional course of separate from a main cemented road ‘n’ aptly for this series too focus on a different zir aspect away from the haven landscape in by contrast a profound changes was very possible imaginable throughly storytelling; but this hasn’t stopped me from my dreamland of being minuscule in Ben’s world insider his cherished home in rigger boots, by which becoming part of the sentient shelter not a true prison, especially I’m now that all pieces of filth ‘n’ sweat laden stink that shows me how my own friend had once been so kinds to me seeking a new light fulfilled curiosity.

This one eyesight wasn’t in my world evenly horrifying enough to be grotesque, only the audience would find this overwhelming or intimidating by something’s they don’t even understand properly themselves, a sights of beauty referring to my initial encounter to be fascinating boy a little creator in my ownerships observational universe too witness by aptly interacting with Ben ‘n’ his feet as a braveness’s hearted participant, inexorably linked to my immune sensory perception ‘n’ the very garments didn’t seem torment me or torture me either; this brief moment was a respite from beings sandwiched in the midst darkness, but the light would soon come too vanish as his football socked foot would just be replaced alls back down again, but now I’m sure to be infused by all imbued in the sameness’s oppressor sweats stench return, from a different dimension angle as a new layer of the fabric had a great feeling.

Thence the whispers shortly returns ‘n’ they’re no longer there in positivity, by all removing harsh truths of taunts, these are all true statements of my reality, “you’re part of us Owen, the only mains human that really cares about the world of love of people socks I am proudest too say happiest because as thee mesh of serpents tighten for the final phases, the transition shall be happening any minutes now”, murmurs the omen entities of stink, as a resulting endeavour warps around me in a magical embrace, “you Owen, belong here with us, here in the warmth ‘n’ the squishy wetness”, further adds the whole world stink entities: being openly honest is the key to showing you as my audience that socks are always all about socks, let’s celebrate the smell.

“Feel our beloved owner Ben’s socked foot above you Owen, this isn’t just a new one sky, but a permanent ones home”, whispered resonances from the rigger boot insole”, because this zir became my favourite playground in an eternally dreamland where I never thought of actual waking up yet, especially when dreams exceed faster in time than the waking world, “this is your all a everlasting domain now ‘n’ we’re all ready for thee next adventures to begin, you’ll be handed straight over to a football socked foot to embed this human boy into a future spaces”, furthers adding the insoles; specifically speaking I’m now a goodbye from the sheltered were I’d started at the beginning to starts a new journey into the socks fabrications.

Upon the not so distantly nightmare’s had transformed me into a long peaceful but lonely without others to enjoy a quiet prolonged dream with by sharing a wonderful story to expose oneself to the intense aromatherapy of how much my sensory olfactory process could indeed handle, let alone tackled, the fact my input wasn’t a psychological response in embarrassment’s torment but a sense of delight whispers of stink that didn’t relish the horror, but facing a deep truth that became my revelations about embedded within the state of consciousness beckons the all smelliest by sweetest socks Ben wore with his rigger boots; though a fundamental part changed me, well maybe not for the viewers who had their owns account in socks after all, smelly socks are the essence of our zir life, especially in the real world that wasn’t dreaming, a sentiment being shall possess a tale which too explore is on… let’s not be a drama performance on these things we wear on our feet, instead let’s cherish the individual experiences in musk.

In addition, Ben was the creator of compacted soiled rigger boots ‘n’ I was to thrill seek in the darkness of sweaty warm oppression air of heat by sandwiched between the smelly insoles versus the football socked foot, but in nature a fungal promise saw a birth of new life, which was a spark of energy to allow the pigment to be absorbed into the threads of time ‘n’ explode where darkness apt is a fabulous conditions for this stale not suffocation air-scape in his footwear to become a safe haven not a prison as the subtitle of the storytelling was described; but here an eternal reminder all you in the audience should embrace the miasma because after a tale like this, socks are socks.

Next time, The Realism Dreamscape 4: The Heavenly Fabric.