A demon needs all the functions of a witching body. They need it more than anything else in the universe. They need its flesh to drown in fluid, and its fluids to be the sea, ready to rise in a storm.
A demon needs the witch to follow their demands for simple things, such as picking up a cookie with those bodily hands, putting it onto lips colored by the blood pulsating through them, and into the witch‘s playful mouth. The demon needs the witch to swallow, and for the bodily fluids and forces to work with the input and present a result in rose cheeks, smooth skin and other vital products.
A demon needs the witch to give in to their demand and do it, so that they can observe and witness and be a part of things they themselves are not granted to have.
Because, the demons their angelic bodies fallen out of grace have no bodily ability to live life as full as their darkness would ever demand.
That is why they need their witches and their bodies able to swallow, and bleed, and spill.
„This blog post is dedicated to my favourite part of 14th century sources on witchcraft that tried to prove that Jesus never had to take a shit ever“, I try to sing in the sweet voice of my witch and she giggles.
„You‘re getting better“, she admits and steals another early Christmas cookie from me. „And better write down that we both have real bodies with real metabolism, or people 2000 years from will disprove that!“
Haunting Humor of a failed witch
An Iced Latte.A floral dress slipping over the shoulder.“I’m finally at that stage where people congratulate me for keeping my humor”. I tell my witch in horror.“That’s what happens when you survive beyond a certain point”, my witch knows to respond and steals the Iced drink from my hands. Humor has been haunting me.Humor broke…
Travelling to Edinburgh slow and green!
The feeling of being stuck was my main motivation to start this blog and summon my witch, so I love to write blog posts about all of the things that I am once again able to do! Ever since the pandemic does not have a grip around my life anymore, I can do things I…
Finding and keeping my voice
I grew up with depression, but it wasn’t mine. Honestly, I think the main reason why I started talking to my witch on this blog was that I never had people around that could give me a bearable perspective of life in this world, so I needed to rip dimensions apart. My mother never got…
Mistress witch writes 