The (Doomstar) Witch - Revisited (an earlier write)
The witch revisited. When I say the witch, I don't mean a woman in a cloak, and I don't mean a woman necessarily at all. Let's put this plainly.
The witch is not a gender.
The witch is a function.
He may wear polished shoes. She may wear perfume. He may keep a beard well trimmed.
She may greet you with tea and a smile. What matters is not the body the witch inhabits, but what follows them.
Where a witch goes, trouble spreads slowly, like ink through water. Not because they shouted, not because they stabbed, but because they tilted the room by just a single, invisible degree. I, genderless and patient.
This is important to say now in this time, where wounds run deep and history has swung the pendulum violently against one direction or another. The old stories like to make witches into women, outcasts, heretics, mothers without husbands, daughters without masters. And for this mistake, many were burned.
Not because they wielded strange power, but because they refused to kneel to ordinary men. But that's not the witch we speak of here. The witch I speak of is not a victim, not a scapegoat, not a metaphor for misunderstood genius.
No, this one knows exactly what he's doing, or she is doing, or they are doing. Because the witch is a title, a role in the architecture of human interaction, and it is always played by someone who knows the notes of discord and plays them well. Unto, the witch as architect of entropy.
The witch is not merely cruel. Cruelty can be blunt, childish, even stupid. The witch is precise.
This is someone who senses your seams and presses gently, who knows just the word, the look, the moment, to begin the slow split of friendship, family, or faith. He may never raise his voice. She may never lift a hand.
But when the witch leaves, you are never quite whole again. That is their touch.
And again, do not be fooled by appearance. There are witches in boardrooms, in bedrooms, in pulpits, in protest circles, in counseling chairs. Not always doing harm, but always bending the field toward chaos.
They do not bring fire. They bring imbalance. Third, the witch lives in the mouth.
Witchcraft in this modern form, is not about potions or candles or celestial alignments. It lives in the mouth, in the way words are used. In the gentle poison of a well-timed phrase, the witch may say something as simple as, funny how she always talks about herself.
I'm not saying anything, but he seems different lately. I just think people should be honest. And that's enough.
A seed planted.
The kind of seed that grows in silence and flowers in suspicion.
You'll notice something. Witches never finish their sentences. They don't need to.
They speak just enough to let you finish it. To let you do the undoing. A full male witches and the art of control.
The male witch, when he appears, is often mistaken for a leader. He may be charming, calm, even spiritual. But what he truly seeks is differential gravity to bend people's orbit toward himself.
He thrives not on loud command, but on quiet centrality. He wants to be the fixed point others must circle. He will console you while isolating you.
He will call out others for bad behavior while hiding his own. He will play the hero of your trauma and the author of it at the same time. And you won't know which is which, because that's the spell.
V. Female Witches and the Art of Invitation. The female witch, when she appears, is often mistaken for a confidant.
She is warm. She remembers things.
She asks the right questions. But her questions always lean one direction, away from unity. She will tell you that others don't understand you.
She will amplify your fears, not soothe them. She will claim insight when all she has is angle. She doesn't command.
She invites. But the road she invites you down always leads away from others and closer to her. Then one day you realize she doesn't want you healed.
She wants you dependent. V. Witchhood as a Spiritual Pattern.
Let me say this clearly.
Witchhood is not just behavior.
It is a pattern of being. Wherever this pattern appears, regardless of gender, age, culture, or ideology, it does the same thing. It isolates.
It fragments.
It confuses the good.
It elevates the self. And it wears a hundred different masks. Activist, advisor, healer, prophet, friend, lover, victim, genius.
But the pattern remains. They bend things toward themselves, even if it costs you your clarity, even if it costs you your community, even if it costs you your soul. 7.
And yet, they begin as observers. You should know, very few witches are born that way.
Most begin as observers, sensitive to pain, attuned to imbalance, often the first to spot a lie. But somewhere along the way, they made a quiet vow. If I must live in a world like this, I will be the one who shapes it.
And so, they begin to shape, not by healing it, but by reshaping it around themselves. That is when the seer becomes the witch. When the wound becomes a weapon.
And it happens slowly, almost invisibly, until one day, they are no longer questioning the system. They are the system. One person at a time.
Fate. The signs you're near.
One, how do you know? You begin to second guess what used to feel clear. You feel drawn in and repelled at the same time.
You isolate from others, but it feels justified. You speak less from conviction and more from defense. And somehow, you feel both seen and owned.
This is not love. This is not friendship.
This is a tether. And tethers that steal your breath are not holy. Say, the escape.
You don't confront a witch with fire.
That's the mistake of ancient times.
You simply name the pattern. Not publicly.
Not dramatically. Just in your own mind. This person thrives in tension.
This person never brings unity.
This person needs me disoriented to feel powerful.
And then, you untangle. Not with anger.
Not with curses. But with silence, distance, and the quiet return of your own internal compass. And when you do, their grip fades.
Because the witch is only powerful in fog. Clarity is your shield. So, one last caution.
Don't go hunting. Not everyone who stumbles is a witch. Not everyone who challenges you is corrupt.
Not every moment of tension is an attack. The witch is not defined by discomfort. They are defined by intention.
So, hold your discernment gently. And remember, sometimes, the person you suspect might be a witch is just you in a season of pain.