When I was a kid, I used to secretly watch The Craft—you know, that 90s witch movie that makes you feel like magic could be real if you wanted it bad enough. Back then, I didn’t even realize I was already feeling things... energies, shifts, intuition. I just thought I was weird. I didn’t know there was a name for it. I didn’t know other people could feel that too.

I've always dreamed of having a coven. Like, genuinely. A small group of people who just get it. People I could do rituals with, manifest with, charge our crystals under the full moon, talk about our dreams and signs and energies without judgment or second-guessing myself. People who feel like magic in human form.

But where I live, witchcraft isn’t really a thing. It’s mostly people just going about their lives, being… well, “normal.” You know? Normies. And I’m not saying that in a bad way—it’s just, I haven’t found anyone who shares the same pull toward the metaphysical, the unknown, the energy around us.

Sometimes I walk past strangers and I feel them. Not in a creepy way. Just… there’s this flicker of recognition in my chest, like they know too. Like we’re on the same frequency. And yet, nothing happens. No words exchanged. Just energy. And I get this gut feeling that maybe it’s just not time yet. Maybe we’re not meant to cross paths now. But I feel like those people? They’re my people.

I yearn for a coven. A real one. A chosen family of the spiritually sensitive. The in-betweeners. The people who feel too much and say too little because the world doesn’t always understand us.

Today, it hit me again. In college, I laugh and I talk and I blend in. But deep down, it’s like I’m acting. Like I’m performing “normal.” And I know that’s part of adulthood—fitting in, being functional. But there’s a difference between being functional and feeling like you belong. And lately, I’ve been feeling the weight of not belonging. Not truly. Not soul-deep.

Sometimes I stare into space and just wish—wish there was someone beside me who’d look at the same moon and feel the same kind of magic. Someone who’d say, “Hey, let’s light a candle and talk to the universe tonight.”

I believe they’re out there. Somewhere. Maybe reading this post. Maybe walking past me again tomorrow.

If you're out there… I see you. I feel you. And I hope we find each other soon.

Love a soft lavender

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What a great pain it is to accept your otherness

Which some call sensitivity, empathy, giftedness or indigo-ness

And to still live in the rigid structures

Of this world at this time

And to be finger pointed at

To be more practical

And more street-wise

To be a go-getter

And push for what you want

And must get

How can we explore and view this

Great dilemma of being true to you

And being practical?

First of all we must discern

The different little you’s

Within the great You that you are

Within the great You — the One Vibration

The One Undulating Ocean

Are many little vibrations or waves

That come and go, some are

More apparent as your personality

In this lifetime and some are

Other-dimensional aspects that

Flit in and out of your experience

These little waves all have a point of view

(Is a point of you)

And want their wants and to say their say

And they must be allowed their voice

Within the One

But know yourself as the Vast One—

The ocean or mother parent first

So that the little ones can be understood

And truly heard

And when all the myriad little ones have been truly heard as the waves that they are

Within the great parent or mother ocean

And not confused with the sound of the great parent self

Believing that our skin, our sex organs, or any other physical attribute is "who we are" is entirely false. Sure, it can contribute to our upbringing and becomes a part of what are egos are, but we are also not our egos.

Our egos are a tool for survival.It isn't bad to have an ego. It is what we choose to use that tool for that can make it bad. Like an axe. An axe isnt a weapon until you choose to use it as one. The ego becomes what our experiences are. Ego seeks to divide and separate. Souls seek to connect and become one.

The more we believe we are different from eachother because of biological differences, the more harm we cause to not only ourselves but others. We are all an expression of the same source.

We are putting limitations on ourselves by feeling the need to label ourselves, when in fact, humans are too complex to put into categories, both externally and internally.

We all came here to experience life on earth. And letting small differences like such is causing us to hinder our own personal growth and the growth of the collective.

Our evolution is dependent on our collective concious, our revolution is a conscious revolution. Change requires awareness, becoming aware of ourselves is becoming aware of everything else.

We are the lightworkers, the starseeds, the indigos, the healers. We must know peace to achieve peace. It all comes from within ourselves. Judging, hating, fearing is what's stopping us from all truly living.

Doing the right thing or at least shaming myself for doing the wrong thing. That was the role taken and necessarily so to try to upkeep the structure of what I needed to be in order to validate my life here as a human.

I have tried. I have really tried. But I cannot keep down the voice that has never let me be perfect, the annoying inconvenience that burst and flames at spotanous times and it says the same thing

I DID NOT GO THROUGH THOUSANDS OF YEARS OF EVOLUTION TO BE LIKED

I DID NOT COME HERE TO BE A SEDATED VERSION OF MY SPIRIT

Now I am in chaos. Nothing means much. It is outrage to know to realize…..that everything that is happening does not need to be the case. The outrage to know that the suffering in this world is a result of unspoken truths and unmet pain within each and every person.

The outrage that I have come to understand information but cannot transfer it onto people, into people

I have overidden the program. It is now system error and I can rage. I can rage for myself and for every sexualised part of my body that was not any man’s to possess in image in mind or in body

I rage for the ancestors of female repression and for the witches in my lineage who have been tames and shackled by threat of mortality

Over and over again

Until they became limp and in hatred of their own power

Me

I am their daughter

And I am allowed to rage

And I am allowed to wild

And I am allowed to strip

Me

I am their daughter

And I am free

And I am free

And I am free

The ultimate avoidance is mass and chronic and deeply engrained in the abyss of the psyche

Avoidance of our mortality

Delusion of death

We cannot die

But you must kill the identity who is separate and striving

To know you cannot die

You can only be immortal

If you are the soul incarnate

Full expressive

And to be the soul is the largest inconvenience this human has ever met

And the only channel to freedom

It is time to colour the world in rage

Beautiful gorgeous connected rage

Rage for injustice

Rage for lies

Rage for suppression

Rage for abandonment of ourselves and each other

This has been a traumatic birth.

This human specimen has been a traumatic birth

And the trauma is the only way to call in love

It is the gap of love

It is a hole in the middle of our earth body

And the whole must empty out

In order for water to flow into it and allow life to grow

But that liminal period before water and after the purge

It has no mercy

It is absolute death

And only in accepting that and still surviving

We can finally realise that death

Is absolutely necessary