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 brokeContinue reading “Haunting Humor of a failed witch”
Category Archives: The historical horror of being alive
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 IContinue reading “Travelling to Edinburgh slow and green!”
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 gotContinue reading “Finding and keeping my voice”
I’ll try again tomorrow.
Just handed in a 30 pages long thing that separated me from finally writing my master thesis. Inspiration for this specific thing never quite hit, and now I feel awfully drained. What are feelings? What is writing? I feel fucking empty. Feeling okay and not feeling a thing feels too similar for comfort. At leastContinue reading “I’ll try again tomorrow.”
What writing in first-person means to me (and my witch)
My nightdress is too short, rain and thunder have scared my cats away, and once again it’s just me and my witch making it through the night together. This is exactly what my radical first-person-rewrite has felt like. Since it has gotten some surprised responses when I shared this sudden change of writing-mind of mine,Continue reading “What writing in first-person means to me (and my witch)”
Dystopia being
Dystopia doesn’t change who we are, but this is nothing to find comfort in. When war calls you as a soldier, you’re still a son or a daughter. A mother, father, lover, friend. At least inside, while on the outside, you die a gray face feared and forgotten. When plague locks you away, you’re stillContinue reading “Dystopia being”
Busy thoughts of a tired witch
I am so tired that I forgot what it feels like.Slowly I remember that feeling dizzy, thirsty for sweet drinks while craving super salty snacks combined with crying over rude people on the train is my tired. I was almost 30 when I understood this. Before, I always wondered why sleep deprivation did not seemContinue reading “Busy thoughts of a tired witch”
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 seeContinue reading “I wish I’d told you all my stories.”
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,Continue reading “Dealing with darkness in writing”
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 witchContinue reading “Radical witching novel rewrites at 4 AM!”
Why my empathy has limits
“All my life, I have fought for my right to be soft”, I tell my witch as we sit in the garden and watch our strawberries grow. “But now, I’ve found out that my empathy has limits.”And recently, these limits were reached. I recently had to work with a difficult colleague. I assisted a womanContinue reading “Why my empathy has limits”
Visiting a witching place! – The museum for magic, fortune-telling, and witchcraft in Edinburgh!
Let me take you to another witching place!I have found a museum where my witch felt at home, and I want to share this with you. I have recently been to Edinburgh, and of course I had to visit the museum of magic, fortune-telling and witchcraft! To be honest, I did not know what toContinue reading “Visiting a witching place! – The museum for magic, fortune-telling, and witchcraft in Edinburgh!”
Confessions of a messy witch
I’ve lost control over my writing again, so here’s a confession of a sleep deprived witch that recently had too much fast food after midnight! I’m a fucking mess! After relocating from Dresden in the far east of Germany back to Mönchengladbach in the far West, I’ve had this motivation to finish the novel! AndContinue reading “Confessions of a messy witch”
Unloved tale
OnceWhen someone had herShe was almost lovedBut then this someone thought:“I can’t be allShe’d ever known”And he let her go. And She ranShe ran too fastWhen she ranShe ran too far ThenShe was found againBy another strange manWho loved her recklesslyLove turned to painAnd carved his sinInto her skin And she fledShe fled too fastWhenContinue reading “Unloved tale”
Just a haunted girl scaring her friends – Writing update!
Intrigued. And quite as bit terrified.Those were the exact same words I got as feedback from my friends whom I’d recently handed the first pages of the witching novel to. Seems like I’ve accomplished my task, right? I’m the haunted girl scaring all her friends!No, but really. It felt as if I was understood throughContinue reading “Just a haunted girl scaring her friends – Writing update!”
Tale about the softest secret
This tale is about a girl I once knew. This girl could not go anywhere without her lovely white shoes. Made of cotton, their rim did not reach her ankles, giving away how thin they were. Their soles were so slim, she felt the earth with every step. Those shoes she needed so dearly wereContinue reading “Tale about the softest secret”
Witching novel progress – and the thrill of being read
It happened. I am experiencing a moment I have been yearning for while at the same time feeling terribly scared of it: The witching novel is being read. Or, at least the beginning. I rewrote the first third a third time, and have now handed out a part of that to some of my friends.Continue reading “Witching novel progress – and the thrill of being read”
Human spell
Feel the world,And fight back when beatenHave eyes openTo mourn when there’s lossDare to cry tears most honestAnd be loud when unwantedBe thereAnd never forgetTo be human. My witch sighs. “Being human sounds exhausting. How kind of them to expell me from it.” And she has a desperate giggle.
The ongoing struggle of being human
… in the flavour of 2026 so far. A part of me wants to make dark January jokes, but I recently don’t wish for easy escape routes anymore, so let’s get real. This new year has made me reflect on a notion about history that in the past I have sometimes struggled with. Born andContinue reading “The ongoing struggle of being human”
Tale about the nice man. Beware!
Beware the nice manhe wears shiny shoeshis suit fits him wellAs it grew on his skin Beware the polite manFor he musn’t knowHe owns the streetAs he watches you fall Beware the nice manHe gambles you outHis promises areFrom another worldThe water is risingTo swallow you wholeThe nice man tells youAbout flying cars Beware theContinue reading “Tale about the nice man. Beware!”
Witching review – “A body made of glass” by Caroline Crampton
If you belong to those constantly caught between wonder and worry about the fragility and persistence of the human body, I may have the perfect book for you! This witching review is on a rather personal piece of non-fiction: “A Body made of glass – A History of Hypochondria” by Caroline Crampton When I foundContinue reading “Witching review – “A body made of glass” by Caroline Crampton”
Winter Witching Writing Novel update!
Just in case anyone had doubts in me: I’m still writing the witching novel! I admit that this project grew a bit over my head. At first, all I wanted was to somehow survive the pandemic emotionally. Then I began to draft the novel, and found out so many morbid and interesting things that IContinue reading “Winter Witching Writing Novel update!”
No time for fairytales
As a girl, I was scared of rejection. I was so scared of never being loved back while all the nice girls found their early happy ending just like all the fairytales.I always feared to become a 30-year-old virgin, especially because my mother had taught me that men were evil but dating girls was sadContinue reading “No time for fairytales”
Why I am not a nice girl
I am not your nice, Christian girl next door, as you might have noticed. And this is not a role I play for this blogging project, or to promote my writing and music. This is me, and I stick to it, even when it gets complicated, and believe me: It becomes an issue more oftenContinue reading “Why I am not a nice girl”
Intimate tale
I yearn for those moments,When I existedsolelyin your eyes.When I wasnothingBut an image causingCuriosity.I lived in those momentsWhen you knewNothingAbout the scarsBetween myThighs.Moments that werePure and softAnd kept mySecretWithout anyFalsity.In those momentsI felt loveFor all the thingsYou mustn’tKnow.All the thingsWent looseWithin myHeadAnd found their wayOnto myTongue.I still amThese momentsWhen I hadYouAnd you deniedThe thingsI wantedContinue reading “Intimate tale”
The tale of mental health in a burning world
“Wanna feel better?”, my witch asks me as she presents tonight’s options. Do we want to get drunk and risk a headache? Do we want to try out yoga again although we’ve never managed to take it seriously? Do we want to escape the last traces of reality by watching a sitcom and ignoring theContinue reading “The tale of mental health in a burning world”
World ache tale
This darkness is not mineA rainy cloudIs ready to burstWe’re sobbing too loudIt’s not personalAt all. This sadness is not mineMy dead motherIs dangling from the ceilingHanging in the kitchenI think she might be leaking. This pain is not mineThe world has gone lostFlames are soaringIt’s spilling bloodAnd I still have skin. Is this bodyContinue reading “World ache tale”
Secret of tonight
“You’re sure you’re gonna survive this?”, my witch giggles over my shoulder. No, but I’m undead since age 5.“Really?”YeaDaddy killed meWhen I was 5It was the kind a murderWhere nobody dies.I forgotHow to survive.That’s Enough secrets spilledFor tonight.
We, the fallen daughters
“Isn’t it comforting to know that you can’t fall deeper than that?”, my witch giggles over my shoulder.“Deeper than what?”“Than right into the hand of god?” And her wine laughter bursts. I am a fallen daughter.And as it is with this kind of falling, there hardly ever seems to be a bottom to reach.I amContinue reading “We, the fallen daughters”
My historical experience of living in Dresden
Some places carry so much history, they feel haunted. They are full of melancholia, sometimes even a bit of questionable nostalgia, and can be tough to bare from time to time. At the moment, I am lucky enough to live in such a place. For the past months, I have been living in Dresden, theContinue reading “My historical experience of living in Dresden”
Mistress witch writes 