Author: candlelightmagick

Made this because of yet another Tumblr fiasco! Im a queer witch trying to find a new home that offers the same quirkyness as tumblr. But without the problems :)

writing-prompt-s:

You’re the worst kind of psychic. Everyone can read YOUR mind. But they don’t always know it’s not their thoughts.

I’m the worst kind of psychic, unfortunately. And I’m pretty evil about it, too, in case you were wondering. Which you were, because I made you.

Now here’s a story. Picture this.

You’re working your graveyard shift at the El Cheapo gas station. It’s dead, as usual, and you’re scrolling through twitter on your phone because it’s not like the boss is there to stop you, or that he would even care.

You really want to open the cash register, you suddenly think. Well, it doesn’t hurt to pass time counting bills, so you open it. Your hand is just reaching for the $20’s when: now you really want to turn off the security cameras.

“No I don’t!” You accidentally shout out loud, but you know, you don’t want to get fired, and there’s no one in the store, anyway.

Yes you do! Your brain tells you. And if you don’t you’ll feel terrible.

“What-“ you start to say out loud, because what is your brain doing, but before you’ve finished the question, your head is suddenly killing you. It’s like someone is vaguely hitting it with a metal pipe.

I’m going, I’m going, you think angrily, for the moment not caring that your brain is being weird as hell, not when something as simple as turning off the security cameras could make the pain stop. You use the sleeve of your jacket to touch the computer, absentmindedly worried about finger prints.

And sure enough, as soon as the cameras go down, so does the pain.

You walk out of the back room, suddenly worried about how you’ve left the cash register open, when you see a shadow in the corner of your vision. A hand comes into view, holding a metal pipe, and then your world disappears.

You wake up to someone shaking your shoulder. It’s the boss’s daughter.

“Are you alright?” She asks, while helping you sit up.

You look at the cash register, which is still open, except that it’s completely cleared of cash. “I think we were robbed.” You say in a daze.

(And before you ask, yes, I had to hit myself with a metal pipe. No, it wasn’t fun. Yes, I have to do it if the mark isn’t cooperating. But you don’t care about that anymore. You just really want to send a picture of your credit card to the number that just texted you. You reeeeaaalllly want to. Trust me, I’m your brain.)

candlelight-magick:

Here’s a lovely trashy idea: put a sigil on your trash can for cursing that is charged by the trash that’s in it. If you’re a secret witch, it can be written in a sharpie the same color as the can, invisible ink, or hell even lemon juice.

The main point, however, is that it can be used permanently because we are dirty humans who always have trash. Perfect for people who are straight up irredeemable and are trash themselves (*cough* 45) or even bigger organizations/people that will require a lot of built up energy to fight (*cough* Nazis). Just (rotten) food for thought.

This was too punny for y’all, wasn’t it

nightshadeandroses:

I view witchcraft in the same way that I do vitamin supplements. Vitamins can help boost you up if you’re deficient in certain things, but if you ate nothing but vitamins, you’d still be very unhealthy. Witchcraft is the same way. If you need help finding a job, a job spell can help increase your chances after you submit a job application. However, if you ignore mundane means and only ever use witchcraft, you’ll never reach your full potential.

kirin-riki:

autumnhobbit:

blackoutcatharsis:

lxzyfangirl:

seductrce:

Concept: I finish school. The job I work isn’t my dream job but I enjoy doing it greatly still. It pays enough to cover everything I might need. My bills are never overdue. Money is not a thought in my head. I have a place to live. So do my dogs. It is nice and warm, I have some plants, my bookshelves are full, my sheets are always clean. There is time to read at the end of a day. I read a lot. Thinking is a good thing. I meet up with friends regularly, old and new. They love me. We make memories. I have nothing to be ashamed of. I travel a few times a year, always different places. The places I see steal my breath away. The people I meet teach me of life. They are good. There is no war. The sea calls to me and pay visit. I am independent. I am content.

we are such a sad generation. the dream is a modest and decent life.

And still, it feels unattainable.

You know? I actually prefer to think of it as regaining sanity after all the delusions of grandeur older generations had. There is absolutely nothing wrong with a normal, decent life with just enough, and tbh it’s their fault we think there IS something wrong with it.

I wasn’t going to add this but fuck it, it might help someone.

Backstory: I remember seeing this list and dreaming of all these things when it first came on my dash a long time back. It looked daunting and unnachievable. I was a single, depressed student with severe social anxiety, barely making enough money to pay for rent on a shared apartment and feed my cat. I had no car and no prospects for a future. I was up to my eyeballs in debt. I contemplated suicide more than once.

Flash forward to today:

This post came back on my dash and as I was reading it I realized I’m checking off almost 90% of this list and I wanted to cry. I am properly medicated, sitting in a nice warm bath in a house I rent with my boyfriend. He and my 6 month old whippet, the dog of my dreams, are curled up playing video games together. My cats are asleep on the bed in my sewing room where a family of succulent plants have recently taken up residence beside my book shelves. I have just started as manager of the tiny department in my old university where I worked part time during the lowest point in my life. It’s not my chosen field and it doesn’t pay an exceptionally huge salary or anything, but it’s relaxed, I don’t stress about it at home and the hours allow me the freedom to craft and draw and do the things I love. I have rose bushes to trim and a vehicle that I worked hard to pay for outright. My debts are now only shoulder level and falling slowly with each paycheck. I sleep easy in a bed I now share with the person I love most in this world. I look forward to board game nights on weekends with new friends I’ve made through my partner along with old friends who stood by me through life’s worst. I look forward to the future. And yes, I read long and often.

Span of time between my lowest and highest points? One year six months.

That’s it.

It is achievable. You can do this. Life can and does change for the better right before your eyes even when it seems like it’s forgotten you. You just have to keep them open.

Tarot Asks Update!

thequeenofsunflowers:

I am now accepting: 

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Hope you’re having a lovely morning/afternoon/evening/night, whatever time it is where you are.

❤