What Witch, Where?

There was a time when I would have chosen writing over sleeping. I was hyped up on Marlboro Reds and six cups of coffee everyday, but at the crack of dawn, my palpitating heart would haul my over-active imagination downstairs to the computer and I wouldn’t mind. I had death and magic and green eyes in my brain. Every morning, 5 o’clock sharp, then writing til my brother woke up at 5 o’clock in the afternoon and forced me off.

That computer never rested. And that poor chair, dealing with butt shifts every twelve hours. At least office chairs get an hour of rest in between shifts.

But I digress.

Even before a computer, writing still had me. I have three or four yellow-colored writing pads (the long ones), covered back to back because I had five stories going at one time and my hands couldn’t keep up with how fast the bunnies jumped from one plotline to the next. Still hyped up on coffee, no cigarettes, so many words. Some of my best work, just fading away on yellow-colored paper, waiting for me to type them up and share them but seriously, who even reads Naruto fanfiction anymore?

The point is I loved to write, and it didn’t matter when I did it or how I did it or how much coffee was sacrificed at my altar. I wrote everything that crossed my mind. It was crazy. And I loved it.

So where the hell did it go? I stopped writing three years ago. I can;t blame that on parenthood, no matter how much I want to. Time and exhaustion were nothing to me back then. There was always time to write, and write well. Now I can barely keep up with my posts.

Maybe because I’m not inspired? That’s sounds like bullshit even as I type it out. I should seek to be inspired, shouldn’t I, and not let myself fall into this humdrum state. So what does pique my interest?

Beauty does, for one, but I don’t feel comfortable writing about it. Every time I read a beauty blog, I feel the word ‘n00b’ emboss itself on my forehead. All these new terms like ‘my lips but better’, ‘HG’, ‘nc30’, ‘Guerlain’ o.0 I can’t even.

Young Adult fiction is a draw as well. A good author can really fire up the imagination, and that’s what I want for my daughter (and for me as well). There are some awesome ones out there hidden amongst the formulaic fodder. Standing in the bookstore though, I just get overwhelmed by all the glossy, colorful everything.

And then there’s witchcraft. It might make other people feel better if it’s termed as neo-paganism or nature spirituality, but it is what it is. It’s what I self-identify as, a witch, have done for a long time. Look at my favorite movie characters. Yes, I know most are evil, but that’s just stereotyping. Magic just always made sense to me, and I loved reading all the deity pantheon stories.

Not only is it lonely, coming from a predominantly monotheistic family, but it gets pretty confusing as well, because I’m Asian, and celebrating four seasons just doesn’t match with what I know my ancestors must have done. It’s all very well to talk about the beauty of fall, but here, it’s either rain or shine, humid or more humid.

So my question is: where are all the Asian pagan (Is there a term for us? I don’t even know, ugh) bloggers out there? I can’t be the only one. If you know one, or are one, comment below. Let me know I’m not the only octopus in the sea (Ursula, geddit?lame)

Thanks for journeying with my feels. Now back to (un)regular programming!

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