Just in case you’ve ever wondered why he owns this world allows for nightmares to never end and its horrors to become true – he just got busy.
The one who could forbid the demons to catch your heart in its weakest moment and lure it into darkness.
The one who could defeat the monster not just hiding underneath your bed, but rumbling in your chest and poisoning your every thought.
The one whom you have ever needed the most, and who could have given the world back its sparkle when it threatened to clot your blood and burn your flesh – the one was never there.
He had the choice to to not give the demon a chance and to never let the monster live, but got distracted and got lost in the swirling abyss of this weird universe.
„That is why we have witchcraft“, my witch cites the manifest that got her burned, her fingers showing off red nail polish while pointing at the exact passage.
Witchcraft to deal with the horrors of being alive – because Daddy got busy.
The latest Dystopia confusion – or what vaccines, glasses, and sunscreen suddenly have in common.
Confusion is one of the most important aspects of Dystopia. It’s this state of the world that keeps burning into the skin like a nervous flickering – and suddenly you’ve bought frog legs from the weirdo at the end of the road, while your neighbour was hanged for a miscarriage 20 years ago. Let’s name…
Keeping the connection – About taking the next step
I remember standing on the same field where I spent most of the past unnerving months. Listening to the same three accords throughout a song reminded me of time passing, of the feeling of spending time with people while doing something special together. Studying for an exam, rehearsing a song, going on a trip -…
Of memories and ashes
Once you were thereTwo minutes afterWith coffee and rainI will rememberThe way that we wereThe world has felt whole. Once we were thereIt was a ThursdayWith tea and a smileI will always rememberIt made me forgetThat the world has got holes. I want this to beThe one thingTo hold on toTo fill up the holesWe…
Mistress witch writes 