If there are no candles scented with all your deepest wishes to ever come true, no dances for the northern star to bring a lover back to stay as fix within your life as its own light points out north, why even do witchcraft? Why carry sheets tainted in blood, or an umbilical cord with you, and risk being burned alive?
Because there are years that have to be lived through, and moments that have to be survived.
Because witching dreams are vivid, and keep alive the sweet melody of things lost and chances missed. They keep the soul vibrating on that one last frequency.
Witching means believing in impossible things, as in being alive to feel good again, while the blood may already clot black in your veins.
And while you are carrying loss and vivid dreams in your heart, and sing through the silence of Dystopia, there might be dark people appearing at your doorstep, and at some point you might feel lost enough to let them in.
And people who seek the lost ones might ask dark things of you. Things that require blood tainted sheets and an umbilical cord, but also make you forget all your loss for a moment.
This is the loneliness of witching.
Haunting Humor of a failed witch
An Iced Latte.A floral dress slipping over the shoulder.“I’m finally at that stage where people congratulate me for keeping my humor”. I tell my witch in horror.“That’s what happens when you survive beyond a certain point”, my witch knows to respond and steals the Iced drink from my hands. Humor has been haunting me.Humor broke…
Travelling to Edinburgh slow and green!
The feeling of being stuck was my main motivation to start this blog and summon my witch, so I love to write blog posts about all of the things that I am once again able to do! Ever since the pandemic does not have a grip around my life anymore, I can do things I…
Finding and keeping my voice
I grew up with depression, but it wasn’t mine. Honestly, I think the main reason why I started talking to my witch on this blog was that I never had people around that could give me a bearable perspective of life in this world, so I needed to rip dimensions apart. My mother never got…
Mistress witch writes 
One thought on “The loneliness of witching”