In every witching life, there will be a moment to kick you over the edge and make you look for your demon.
Maybe, you ran into a glass door, or let fall a box that had made to several people safely before it reached you – in this moment, when any measures of safety click off and the little witch inside takes over thoughts and makes the knees give in, you‘ll find yourself on the floor yearning for the shadows.
„Makes sense, doesn‘t it?“, my witch giggled into the cup of tea supposed to warm our soar throat. „Just think of all the darkness you have to make through for a demon to even be wanting to seduce you.“
If a demon seduced you, back in the days of my witch, it could have been seen as not your fault, since he played a trick on your tormented heart, but why was your heart so tormented in the first place? What upset your inner ocean? Back in the days of my witch, everyone knew that only those equipped with enough fantasy could even fall for those demons‘ sorcery, revealing their flaws.
Better stay away from daydreams and any kind thought about a better world.
Sounds crazy?
I thought so too, but then I had to remember my uncle raging about those „climate change believers“ while curling his mustache, or of my parents joking about me not finishing my first attempt of novel writing at the age of 12.
Having fantastic thoughts, or daydreams, or even an agenda for the world makes vulnerable. It causes waves within the inner ocean. Waves that scream: „This pain is not right!“ And it makes the heart ache even more, and makes it ache so badly, that you take the hand reaching out from the shadows, and their touch makes sense of you.
My throat hurts for the first time in two years, and I have just taken the second test myself today to determine what kind of problem I was about to have. A friend agrees with me via text message that a vaccinated person with two negative tests would most likely only have a normal cold, but I feel overwhelmed and sink down to the floor, curling around my cup of tea.
„Your demon has to be someone you can spend hours thinking about while curling up in the kitchen floor“, my witch giggles and I am thinking of someone I would like to share my soar throat with but am yet too shy to do so.
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 