Witches are born in the moment of total system failure.
Before being reborn as a witch, one might have been a child to someone, or a friend, a spouse.
Words hat certain meanings. Gestures and movements were seen.
To the whole existence of a person, there was a response.
But also, before being reborn as a witch, every part of existence was dedicated a certain purpose.
As a daughter, one was supposed to marry a promising young man.
As a son, one was supposed to marry a girl with a marriage portion worth mentioning.
His seed was supposed to grow a new generation, and her uterus was supposed to carry them.
He was supposed to be hardworking, as she was seen as a breeding potential needing certain protection to deliver better sooner than later.
What happens to a body and soul if all of these aspects of life collapsed?
What does pain even mean, if nothing comes out of it?
What do words even mean, if they are never heard?
Surviving a moment of total system failure might make you a witch,
It certainly made me summon Layla, once I realized that I had to survive, and thus, to figure out how to keep breathing while everything is smothered in silence.
It is also true that there still are a lot of things to do after this system failure.
There are fun things, like staying up all night. Or eating chocolate at 4 AM. Or having ten orgasms in a row while thinking of different sitcom characters.
But I also sometimes see my witch having madness glowing in her eyes while searching her empty house for a feeling to conquer her emptiness. I see her yearning for someone to put her head on their shoulder, for a response to words whispered into the darkness.
And I remember how long it has been ever since I had talked to someone else than the cashier at the grocery store …
Being free of purpose means not having to function anymore, and that can be relieving. I certainly enjoyed not having a real place in this world anymore whenever I realized I could have a glass of wine early in the morning and put my boot-wearing feet on my desk while doing so.
But the need to be heard and seen and touched will never disappear completely.
This is just another heartbreaking problem of witching.
Once you have fallen out of reality, who will pet your head and smile at you?
Unloved tale
OnceWhen someone had herShe was almost lovedBut then this someone thought:”I can’t be allShe’d ever known”And he let her go. And She ranShe ran too fastWhen she ranShe ran too far ThenShe was found againBy another strange manWho loved her recklesslyLove turned to painAnd carved his sinInto her skin And she fledShe fled too fastWhen…
Just a haunted girl scaring her friends – Writing update!
Intrigued. And quite as bit terrified.Those were the exact same words I got as feedback from my friends whom I’d recently handed the first pages of the witching novel to. Seems like I’ve accomplished my task, right? I’m the haunted girl scaring all her friends!No, but really. It felt as if I was understood through…
Tale about the softest secret
This tale is about a girl I once knew. This girl could not go anywhere without her lovely white shoes. Made of cotton, their rim did not reach her ankles, giving away how thin they were. Their soles were so slim, she felt the earth with every step. Those shoes she needed so dearly were…
Mistress witch writes 