What Is the Witchcraft?
The witch is not a costume. She is not a candle in a gift box, nor a #blessed meme on a pastel background. The witch is not your seasonal aesthetic or the product of a consumer algorithm. The witch is war. The witch is a stance. And more than that—she is a living rebuke to every structure that demands kneeling.
Peter Grey once wrote that the witch is “at the end of the pointed finger.” That is: accusation. Trial. Persecution. Yes. But also: power. The witch is the one who does not flinch when the world turns hostile. She is the one who has chosen herself—and in doing so, becomes a danger to any system that depends on obedience, fear, or silence.
Witchcraft is not a retreat. It is not a luxury retreat or a lifestyle brand. It is resistance. It is revolution. It is the deliberate act of not kneeling—not to gods, not to rulers, not to husbands, not to doctrine. Witchcraft begins where submission ends. It is sovereignty made flesh.
Witchcraft stands for freedom.
Radical, irrational, untamed freedom. Not the sanitized slogan of a dying liberal democracy—but the wild freedom of bodies, of minds, of lives lived without permission. It is the freedom to love who we love, live as we are, speak what is forbidden, and reclaim the parts of ourselves long exiled by shame.
To be a witch is to be uncontrollable.
And so the witchcraft must, by its nature, stand against anything that seeks to shrink the human soul. We stand against fascism—its uniforms, its flags, its promises of order in exchange for submission. We stand against totalitarianism—whether it comes in the form of jackboots, or algorithms, or dogma masquerading as safety. We stand against the machine that turns people into data, culture into product, and resistance into lifestyle content.
We are not for sale.
Witchcraft is feral. Witchcraft remembers the fire. It remembers the stake and the noose and the whispering mob—and it chooses, again and again, to speak anyway. To hex. To heal. To unmake what was never just.
The witch does not seek to rule.
She seeks to be—fully, freely, without leash or mask. She doesn’t kneel. She doesn’t ask. She takes responsibility for her power and wields it in defiance of all that would cage her.
What is the witchcraft?
It is not safe. It is not respectable. It is not neat.
It is the embodied rejection of tyranny in all its forms.
It is a raised middle finger at the end of the pointed one.
It is the oldest resistance in the world—and it still burns.