The witch and Dystopia

I am sitting on a field at night.
The second lockdown has already lasted many months and spring is arriving. This time, I am not alone with my witch. A real other person is there with me. I am having a friend with me.
We are hiding after curfew far away from the street. „If we walk on opposite sides of the road, no one can proof that we belong together“, she says and I giggle into my glass of wine. We both have not seen someone privately in ages, have been poking the inside of our nose before meeting, and now felt ready to exlpore how far this night would let us go after months of silence.
Later on, throwing our shared bottle of sparkling wine into the bushes and run from a car we assumed to be the police definitely made this night a lot of fun and one of the last fun memories my youth would ever provide, but what I really want to write is about is something this friend told me that night.
„I read that the pandemic can only destroy things that have been broken before anyway“, she would comment the end of her almost ten year lasting relationhsip. While I agreed with her, I had a thought I knew I could only ever put into one of my witching tales.

I was thinking that this was the tragedy of any Dystopia. You might have never known who was simply hanging by a thread, until this last hold was lost.

Of course it is not better to stay in a broken relationship, or to never question yourself at all – but the brutaliy this comes along with once a world is breaking down can be huge.
Things suddenly look very different. This is an important aspect of the witching novel I am drafting at the moment. There are countless little things that my witch had done throughout her life which suddenly seemed suspicious, once the world was looking for a witch.
Dystopia points out things. It finally convinces things to give in that have been fragile for a while. It puts minor incidents in perspective, and I think it is worth questioning if it is always the better one.
For a long time I thought that this was destroying me. I felt as if all my humanity had been taking away from me. Any way to feel myself. Any purpose I ever had in this world.
I am stil having these thoughts from time to time, which is why my blog will go on.
I searched this strange new world for a way to feel myself in it again, and at some point began to write my witching novel. Researching the history of the myth around witches meant to research dark moments when people had been desperately lost in Dystopia. This shaped my view and showed me escapes from as well as possible ways to deal with my Dystopia.

I like to call this my witching view.

Sometimes, it were the fields. A beautiful sunset could make me cry, since I had lost any outside input to help me filter any emotions I had.
An old house could in my thoughts suddenly become an important place for my witching novel to take place. I collected potential witching houses in my long walks!

I love that I took that picture.

When I kept my witching view with me, everyday life became easier.

My witching view turned my pandemic dystopian daily life into a tale that I was finally able to tell.

At least to me, being a witch means to always find an escape route. Even if it is just for one breath, or a few words to whisper into the dark.

I even began to include my own appearance, at some point.

Since this was a lot about the pandemic again, I also like to collect some good news in this Dystopia diary I started a year ago. Just today I managed to get an appointment to get vaccinated. This really feels like a step forward and I realize that only months ago this moment seemed to be so much more far into the future.

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