One thing I have always needed my witch for were choices.
I had always felt as if I was able to define myself through the choices I made and also had seen my witch as someone without this chance in life. I always thought that she was born into a world that determined it all. That totally determined her experience, her sense of things, and left no second to think which turn to take. And as a modern person, of course my choices determined me. What I ate, how I looked, who I had sex with.
All choices.
All big parts of me.
But tonight, I really wished I could have chosen not to be sad. I really wished I could have taken just one more deep breath and swallowed all of those feelings piling up in my chest, but I could not. Just as well as I sometimes cannot decide to fall asleep from one second to the other, although it‘s already 3 AM again as I‘m typing these words. When I was feeling a bit lonely the other day, a friend reminded me that it was never too late to make new friends, and after hearing those words, I found myself stranded in a flooded train station, surrounded by strangers but no one to talk to, and my favourite choice would have been to find someone with something written on their face that made it easier for me to say a word to them.
This makes me wonder if my witch truly never chose a path? Did she not climb the city wall one fateful night? Did she not choose cushions in the color of a heartfelt memory?
I know that she did. And while I am dreaming of choices I don‘t have this night, I remember hers and try to accept that it will always be the struggle of the complex tapestry of a mind trying to find a place in a weird version of this world.
… and I wonder if I really could have chosen not to eat a chocolate cupcake in the middle of this boring night.
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 
Yup.. Earth is a place of making choices based upon our free will. In the end, it’s just about the experiences and lessons learned, I opine. All the best.🙏🏻💕🙏🏻
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