I have tried a few times to give it up, to lay down the tools, hang up the pointy hat and attempt a pleasant, comfy muggle life. But the witchyness screams up from the depths of the soul and will not be quieted. You *see* things that cannot be unseen. You *know* things that will not be unknown. There is no flavor in the mundane, no succor enough to quench the drive and hunger of the Witch's spiritual cravings, or so I've found.
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