pagan made

Emoji curse for an abusive parent


You, father, are the target for chaos and being stabbed in the back.


You, mother, are the target for chaos and being stabbed in the back.

to cast these, repost them yourselves.

I was having a hard time, and now i’m not.

For as long as I’ve identified as a witch, I thought I had trouble with ‘real’ magic. Spells didn’t come easy to me, I felt like my offerings and altars were wrong, that I was making some mistake that no one ever spoke about because every one else knew what not to do. And I suppose I was, but not exactly how I thought I was.

I was already doing magic, but not how I thought I wanted to.

My magic isn’t always mason jars filled with herbs, crystal points polished like mirrors, or billowing skirts and capes.

My magic is standing in my back yard looking for acorns in jeans and a tee shirt. Baking cookies from boxed mix for Loki. Potions from tea, emojis sent to myself over kik for spells, drawing sigils with my tablet. The comfort of silent spirits while I go about my daily life.

My spells are song lyrics from the radio, a playlist altar for my deities, wearing stone jewelry to job interviews.

Home made tarot cards that I ask about birthday gifts, a Supernatural ouija board with a glow in the dark planchette, sigils inspired by my favorite shows.

I was never doing it wrong, I just didn’t know I was doing it right.

Some days I still wish I was able to work deep in the woods, twigs in my long hair, black taffeta trailing behind me like smoke, a raven familiar by my side as I brew my potions in a real cauldron.

But then my black cat with a deformed leg will hobble inside, rubbing his head on me, and I’ll draw a sigil on my arm in gel pen, listening to a song that inspires my intent. That’s where my magic is.

Dionysos Maenoles, raging wine-dark God,
all I can ask is your love and your fury.
When I am broken, I do not have to be remade;
remind me each crack in my being
has a reason to be; remind me my anger
is righteous in its own way. Teach me moderation
even as you teach me release. 

Like Ariadne love me, take me
for your own;
like Pentheus tear me apart.

—  Dionysos prayer, for winedarkrage // r.s.b.
Some More Stuff About Gender and Paganism

My post on gender and Paganism made TERFs mad.

Here are some more things that will make them mad:

Nonbinary people exist.

There are people who exist outside the gender binary.

Gender is a social construct.

Sex is also a social construct.

And before you say “But if they’re social constructs does that mean they aren’t important?” Here is another social construct: time.

Sex is a spectrum. Gender is also a spectrum.

Stop trying to get others to conform to your binarist notion of “masculine” and “feminine” energy.

If your tradition actively excludes people who fall outside the gender binary (or says that gender noncomforming people have “too much masculine/feminine energy”) it is harmful.