What I miss most about my old life are the little rituals I had.
I know that my second life as a witch the pandemic brought upon me appears to have a lot of those. Witches have their potions, right? You can just knock on their door with the most secret and desperate desires of your heart, right?
I certainly summoned my witch for this. Because I needed a spell. And I have learned a few things since then. Love, for me, tastes like cinnamon. And apples. And if you cook red cabbage with apples, even more!
„Eating that is more effective than cooking the bloody sheets from your first period in the tea of your future lover for them to never leave!“, my witch giggled.
Yes, in my witching research I also came across those recipes. Love potions were a common issue in the big witching trials in Europe. They had to be treated with caution. If witchcraft could actually cloud your judgment and influence your decision then how could God ever punish you for anything?
I actually enjoy clouding my judgment for a while. Vanilla scented candles make me forget how much I hate being alive right now, for example.
In my old life, I have often also felt very lost, but at some point, I had built up things around me that made me understand who I was. For example. Working with my mother in a music project for children together with my old music teacher. Coming back there always felt like coming home. I also visited my grandmother regularly, which is remarkable, because my family is a mine field and I have lost touch with all of them a few times already.
Doing these things gave me the strength to pursue my goals. To become a teacher. To face stress at work. And to look up exam results.
I kind of went home, although I don‘t really have a childhood home anywhere. I saw people that had known me for a while, and I listened to the right music while walking those streets.
Ever since I cannot do these things anymore, I have struggle finding that strength anywhere. The project I worked in with my mother is canceled for good, for a lot of sad reasons. We never said goodbye to anyone involved, because it happened within the pandemic. It had been a thing for 50 years. I cannot imagine a world without it. My grandmother also died after I had not seen her for a year. So have other people close to me as well.
Without doing these things, I struggle to check my E-Mails, to look up the results from my very last exams, and I even blacked out in my final oral exam in chemistry. I even forgot the structure of a water molecule. That level of black out!
All I can do is taste things that make me feel hugged, and that is nice! I mean, a real hug would be better, but this Dystopia is still there, so ..
My problem is still there.
I have to find the right spell.
To put on a face.
To know where I’m going.
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…