☾ What did it feel like? ☾

Walking Through Smoke: Two Weeks of Chaos Magic and Soft Power May 09, 2025

Song Mood: “Head On (Hold On To Your Heart)” by Man Man

			   ^
		  <   ^  ^   >
		   < ^    ^ >
		--- +  ()  + ---
		   v ^    ^ v
		  <   v  v   >
			   v
    

I’ve been in it. Not dabbling, not just reading, but in it. Something changed these past two weeks—something charged and alive. I feel magically activated, yet vulnerable. Like walking through smoke, catching glimpses of something radiant, but knowing if I grasp too hard, it will vanish.

This energy has brought people to me—drawn in like sparks to a sigil. Trish, for instance. A stunningly bright woman with a soft voice and sharp insights. Over lunch, we talked angel encounters—her kind, not the Christian kind. Mysterious, spiritual, power-laced beings. She has a podcast. She’s sex-positive and serious. Talking with her felt like a message.

I’ve started spending time in a local coffee shop that feels like a coven. These women—kind, witchy, luminous—seem to know. They draw cute things on my cup. I feel seen. Wanted. Healed. That kind of social magic has been missing for a long time.

The pendulum I carry now came from a local magic shop. A beautiful woman touched it before I picked it up—I could feel it pulsing with energy. The shop itself smelled of earth and fire, and when the woman at the counter called me a sorcerer, it landed like a truth I had been too timid to claim. This isn’t a phase. It’s not cosplay. I’m walking toward something—and it’s real.

Even my DoorDash driver was a gorgeous goth woman. It sounds silly, but when your intentions are clear, the universe starts sending little confirmations. This feels like one of them.

Magic weaves through everything right now, including sex. Especially sex. I see it as one of the purest, most intense forms of energy exchange. When you align it with intent, it becomes ritual. Healing. Sacred

Still, there’s resistance. The dark parts know what I’m building. Shame and failure are lurking, trying to coax me back into the void. Failure feels like a bully in the corner, daring me to lie down and cry. But I’m staying on my feet.

I’ve been walking more—through bookshops, magical parks, little forgotten corners of the city. They fill me up spiritually. I can feel something coming. Something big. I’m open. I’m scared. But mostly, I’m ready.