Sometimes a world is beginning.
Sometimes only within thoughts, built of images a soul is vibrating on.
Images, melodies, and scents and tastes which made a soul sing and felt as if they were meant to sustain the night and still be there tomorrow.
Then, there are also moments in which a whole world is falling apart.
A melody becomes silent, images lay scattered, and nothing makes sense anymore, although it once did in such a wonderful way.
The silhouette of what had once been a real person with a beating heart and thoughts and dreams may still be putting up candles scented as old times had been while trying to keep a song on her lips which she by now has trouble remembering. She may cook the same meal as before, although no one is asking for it anymore. She wears the same dress, although no one likes to see it on her anymore.
This person may be doing all of this because there is the slightest chance for things to be back.
For a certain sparkle to give life meaning, again.
For joy to fill her chest, again.
For someone to knock on her door and be back after all.
A part of that person may know that the universe will never be aware of her trying to cook a happy memory over her lonesome fireplace.
But why not give it a try?
„…so, you are aware that E-Mails won‘t turn evil if you only check them 19 times a day?“, the nice man in a blue shirt is asking me and I am blushing.
„Yes.“
But why not give it a try?
I wish I’d told you all my stories.
I want to tell you all my storiesIt’s not that they would changeIt’s just that I would likeTo see themFormA new expressionOn your face I need to tell you all my storiesI am not sureIf they makeSenseThe way I thoughtThey do. I will tell you all my storiesThey frighten meI’m sure you won’t endureI see…
Dealing with darkness in writing
This spring afternoon is glowing pink and tastes like strong tea. It feels much too familiar, and I begin to open up.I feel far away from myself as I start to talk, to babble on about my novel. About all the things I’ve been reading about in the past 5 years. About the 17th century,…
Radical witching novel rewrites at 4 AM!
I wore the same night dress my witch used to wear to get drunk on my windowsill, when I suddenly had an idea at 4 AM. Great ideas always happen at 4 AM, remember? This one however, kept me awake for at least a week, debating it back and forth. At some point my witch…
Mistress witch writes 