Have enough of our loved ones been absorbed by plague, war, and the general collapse of things for us to pose as a baroque painting? My witch said yes, so just think of all the pretty things we‘re gonna get now! Just like Emilie Autumn once sang about pretty dresses and hair when expecting to die soon – priorities!
So, for me it looks like I will wear my corset once more and my cheeks will be rose and my lips will be red and I will wear pearls between sculls rolling around. What more can I even ask for?
Oh, yea. Right. There‘s the thing with the loved once that, well, once have been and more and more are not anymore. Those in mass graves, and those otherwise absorbed by the horror of being alive right now, but hey! A few hundred years ago this also lead to people wanting to feel pretty and painting sculls into things to just not completely exclude death from everything. My witch can tell!
It‘s so fucking hard to love someone in a world collapsing. What do I even say? Do I pet their head and lie about things ever being fine, or do I shock them with passion and ask to take me one last time and send these words right into their bleeding heart? Tough choice! And, oh! There‘s also another option.
I could just accept to lose them.
Lose them to death.
Lose them to life.
Because I found them in a world that once was better.
He lives in a world made of waffles and cinnamon, and she lives in a world with sculls rolling around.
You can‘t have both, boy
You can‘t have both.
„So, all of this is about avoiding to lose someone?“, the nice man in the nice blue shirt asked me recently. And I was avoiding eye contact with my therapist through my freshly blow dried, long red hair.
At least I feel pretty.
A witch with no regrets
This night feels cozy.Midnight has passed.No sleep, but another cup of tea in vanilla scented candlelight.“Are you saying you have no regrets?”, my witch giggles. When I was younger, I was often warned that I would regret the things that I did. I remember being 10 years old and finally telling my family that I…
Heavy rain and zombie fire – A small town of resilience part 2
This is a hopeful post, although it might not look like it at first. Recently, the region I am living in is experiencing a historical wildfire, and it was getting terrifyingly close to the city that gave me a lot of inspiration to write my witching novel. The town is called Monschau, and who is…
What the stars can do to us
“Are you really lucky enough to miss out on a few shooting stars?”, my witch asks as I try to fall asleep. Well, who of us ever is? We had seen 6 very bright shooting stars, but I was getting cold and tired. Can I afford to sleep during the peak of the perseids? I…
Mistress witch writes 