#witchywriter

🐸 Tadpole’s Tavern Edition

Tonight the world is loud in the way it doesn’t ask permission to be.

The sky outside keeps cracking open in bright little rebellions—colorful, sharp, too sudden. The kind of sound that doesn’t feel like celebration when you’re the kind of person who feels everything at once. 🎆

So I did what I always end up doing on nights like this…

I went inward.

Not away. Not gone. Just… inward.

Like slipping into a familiar booth in a quiet tavern where the lights are low, the air is warm, and nobody expects anything from you except that you exist. 🕯️

🖤 𝑪𝒖𝒓𝒓𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝑴𝒐𝒐𝒅:

☑ a little overstimulated ☑ a little soft around the edges ☑ a lot more grounded than I used to be ☑ still here ☑ still breathing ☑ still choosing not to fall apart just because the sky is loud

There’s something strange about nights like this.

They make your inside voice louder than usual.

Memories get closer. Feelings don’t stay in their lanes. Everything starts trying to mean something.

And if you’re not careful, you start thinking you have to solve your entire life before midnight.

But tonight isn’t for solving.

Tonight is for holding steady. 🌿

🍷 𝑻𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒏 𝑻𝒂𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝑴𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕

There’s a drink on the table.

There’s music somewhere in the background.

There’s that strange in-between feeling where you’re alone, but not lonely in a dangerous way—just in a human way.

And the world outside keeps doing its fireworks thing like it forgot some of us are sensitive souls and not confetti cannons.

But inside?

Inside is quieter.

Inside is controlled.

Inside is mine.

🐾 𝑭𝒂𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒂𝒓 𝑾𝒂𝒕𝒄𝒉

Somewhere nearby, a one-eyed grey cat is pretending she isn’t supervising me.

She absolutely is. Judgment: minimal. Support: conditional. Snack expectations: high. 🐈‍⬛

🌙 𝑻𝒐𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕’𝒔 𝑴𝒂𝒈𝒊𝒄 (𝒊𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒊𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕)

Not spells.

Not transformation.

Just this:

staying in my body instead of escaping it

letting feelings move through without steering the whole ship

noticing what I miss without letting it drive

choosing calm even when calm feels slightly unreal

That last one is the hardest part.

🖤 𝑪𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒆

I used to think being overwhelmed meant something was wrong.

Now I think it just means I’m alive in a world that sometimes hits too loud.

And I don’t need to fix that tonight.

I just need to sit here.

In the tavern.

With the lights low.

With my thoughts allowed to exist without taking over the room.