a witch's childhood is akin to that of an acid trip |
| Stand in the open meadow before the fence and the padlock and the signs - you might hear a gypsy wind and the baby's breath will dance to its tune waltzing between your ankles. Look up and if your eyes are wide enough and brown enough and innocent enough you might catch spirits conversing in the clouds inspecting you from above. Let the elementals guide you do not resist when they gently take your hand and lead you up the mountain to the field of yellow daisies where you can finally sleep in peace because you are guarded by clever wisps. Wake to the sound of friendly goblins chasing each other down the path over the forgotten obstacle course under the great and powerful pine trees that stand tall unconditionally. Drink tea with the faeries around the stump that looks like a mushroom and eat incarnadine berries off viridescent leaves in hopes that maybe one day they'll let you fly with them. Enjoy their company while you can because one day you'll blink and it will all be gone. |