ADULTHOOD IS A S#!%SHOW
Stealing is bad in general, but nothing is worse than taking from a powerful being. Be it Goddess or witch, you’ll have more than you can afford taken from you in return, multiplied. No matter how small the item, there’s an energetic exchange that isn’t worth what you’ll lose. Careful who you cross, you never know what it will cost you. Via: HumAlien
Updated: 11/9/2025 12:19am
Embrace the season. I love October, like any witch. I also feel fortunate to live somewhere where the seasons are ever changing. To each their purpose. It’s the weekend, try one of these gentle healing practices before the months over. Via: BlackWomensYogaCo
Here are some guidelines for daily witchy activities to get you in the mood of spooky season. Herbs, crystals, meditation, it’s all about revering nature, directing energy, and tuning into the soul. Magic doesn’t come from the Devil, a tenuous cretin who owes everything to the Divines. It comes from us, specifically me (read Declined: The Illuminati’s Rituals & Magic). Satan perverts all things sacred, he’s nothing more than an abuser of it, a wannabe. As are his devotees. Being a witch is a gift from me to the chosen. Via: My.Personal.Moon
Another reason witchcraft is demonized in the Bible, is because women are better at it (read Satan And Lilith Need Black People). Hello, it’s my domain, and what am I? A woman, a black one at that. Ergo, black people are the most magical. Black witches being the crème de la crème of the game.
Distorting the parables gives the cunning men who wrote them the advantage of power (read PSA: Stop The Religious Misinformation). Keeping everyone in the dark, while using the tools they generalized as wicked to control the masses. They’re outnumber, it benefits them.
Nobody abuses magic more than the Devil. Mick Jagger aka Satan, now has restricted access to it. He’s merely the head demon. Meaning if we Divines allow it, anyone could kill him. Angels are powerful enough to work alone, demons need a legion. A negative of being cast out of heaven. At this point the Rolling Stones frontman is hanging on to power by the thread of blackmail (read Kanye Confirms Mick Jagger’s A Pedophile). All he has over the elites is incriminating evidence of their depravity. Plus, he’s still allowed magic to kill certain people at my discretion. Go put your clown makeup on Michael, your family too. Death is just around the corner for all of you, and those aligned, Kali & Shiva. Via: PauvreOison
Here Kitty, Kitty. Cats often get a bad wrap as cold and uncaring creatures. That couldn’t be further from the truth, they’re highly intelligent, extremely loving (once you’ve earned their trust), have unique personalities and rightfully associated with divinity. I mean hello, they domesticated themselves. My theory: they saw babies living the good life and wanted in. Explaining why they mimic their cries and like to be spoken to baby talk style, they’re called copycats for a reason. Ingenuous.
They’re also utter and complete assholes, pushing you to the brink, literally living for drama and will speak their mind, especially when wrong. Be it witch or goddess, cats are spiritually sacred and should be treated as such. Which queen holding a cat is your favorite? Via: Harpers Bazaar, DeionPage & TrustMeIKnowBetter
No matter what I am: Goddess, Queen witch, Rolling Stones album, Mischa Barton will always be mother. Working her ass off since childhood, she paved the way for East Side Middle School to become iconic (read The Kardashian Jenner West’s Troll Account).
Walking so we could run (read East Side Middle School Alumni). The O.C put bodies in front of televisions for real time viewing, and was all anybody talked about the next day. Marissa Cooper forever! Just another ESMS is Gossip Girl confirmation. Hang her picture up at Blue Stone Manor, behind Dorinda Medley, put her in the Louvre. Via: Mischa Barton Insta & British Vogue
Stop the witch slander! We aren’t all satanic. Making blanket statements, denying our existence all together, has aided in tilting the scale to evil. People called me a witch before I even knew what I was. It’s hereditary. In my blood, thank you very much. Which definition resonates with you good witches most? Via: JustAMountainWitch & WitchesOfEden
Some practical self-help guidance, for those in need of a mid-week push. Which cover resonates with you the most? Artist: Phaedra Peer
As a Pisces I got the witch from Halloweentown. I fucked with that movie heavy growing up. Disney was so legit for those films I’ll allow it, but I’m obvi Hermione Granger. I even have my own Ron Weasley to argue with, smh. P.S, looking at this chart it goes without saying, diversify witches. Via: LunVWitch
Missing as a concept has given me the heebie jeebies since I was a little girl. Distinct memories of Unsolved Mysteries, reports of children disappearing on the news, the novel turned movie The Face On The Milk Carton. How does one just vanish into the ether, without a trace? The thought alone makes my skin goose up and crawl. An experience I ardently wished never to have. That all changed in January 2018. Mindlessly scrolling through instagram, I came across my childhood friend Robbie on a missing poster; as if all those moments were preparing me for this. I hadn’t spoken to him in a few years, we were close until he moved away in 10th grade. Then we kept in touch via Facebook until he deactivated his account for an extensive period of time. None of that mattered. Attending a specialized middle school where 8/123 students in our year were black, with only 3.5 of us being cool (Robbie, Wesley, Me and sometimes Malcolm) creates an eternal bond. We were outliers who shared a unique and rare experience, we empathized. He was my brother, even when he used his good-looks and charm to be a jerk. I’d always knock him down to size, especially when it came to his playboy proclivities.
Beyond race our grade was close knit. Everyone was freaking out, messaging one another for updates and sharing his information. I called my mom sobbing (she knew him) and then my friends who tried to remain positive. Bereaved, I knew from one look at his face that he was gone. Telling them I think he hurt himself, he looks depressed, he went to the water. My witch senses told me, I could feel it in my bones. However, they remained optimistic saying he could have just needed to clear his head, get away. Yeah, I said. Wanting to believe it so bad.
Robbie was: handsome, well-off, educated, talented, well-traveled, material wise he needed not. He was funny, witty and dry. He was so kind. Well dressed. One of the coolest kids to ever exist. Women brazenly threw themselves at him. I watched Lauren knock over a large coke at Burger King due to his mere presence. Straight out of a movie, that scene where the girl does something mortifying in front of her crush. She babbled aloud. “Oh my god, oh my god, this is so embarrassing, I can’t believe I’m doing this in front of Robbie, I can’t believe this is happening…” As we watched napkins dissolve into brown mush, liquid dripping to the already sticky floor.
In death there is closure, whereas when someone ups and disappears the mind spirals. He left his house at 8pm on January 3rd. Anything could’ve happened: What if he saw something and was the only witness, so he was handled? What if he was getting something from the store and was shot during a robbery? Maybe he was kidnapped? He could be held hostage for being at the wrong place, at the wrong time! I cried endlessly. Praying to god that if he brought Robbie back I would do anything, forgive anyone. As time went on I ignored my intuition opting for optimism. My friends were right, he’s in Africa deciding his next move, starting over.
That March he was found deceased. I was angry with myself for a multitude of reasons. For starters buying into the delusion that he’d begun anew somewhere. Robbie suffered from depression and took his own life, the only thing I haven’t confirmed is how. Second, as someone whose battled this disease I wish I connected earlier, to tell him that he’s not alone, this isn’t his fault; he deserves better, more. Had I taken one second to see if he was back online, looked at his captions, I could have prevented it. I know he probably told others, but when your life looks perfect people write it off as ephemeral sadness, especially in the black community.
And that’s the other side of the coin, knowing bad things when you don’t wanna. Helping strangers, but not being able to save my friend. As unreasonable as the burden is to bear, as a witch it weighs heavy all the same. For what it’s worth Robbie, I’m sorry I couldn’t get to you in time. I’m sorry you believed this was the only way out, I wish you could see the things happening now. The world has changed since you’ve left. Black lives matter, black mental health matters. You mattered, you always will. Via: Max From Tax