I liked your post a lot and am really intrigued. I'm bipolar, red-headed ( or used to be!) and half Irish. I'm also interested in the occult and paranormal experiences.
Ollie’s reflection on autistic witchcraft is a tender, electrifying embrace of what it means to feel deeply in a world that often asks us not to. Her words shimmer with truth this isn’t about spells or stereotypes, but about the sacredness of sensitivity. She captures the lived experience of autistic women with such grace: the way their bodies tune into the quiet signals others miss, the way their perception becomes a kind of magic. It’s not performative it’s embodied. Halloween, for Ollie, isn’t just a celebration; it’s a moment when the world briefly catches up to how she feels every day. This piece is a love letter to those who live awake, and a reminder that their presence is powerful, not too much.
Adrião, you always seem to get it — not just the words, but the pulse underneath them. Reading your reflections feels like being seen in the exact language I write from. Thank you for holding the soul of my work with such care and for translating it back in a way that reminds me why I share at all. I’m so grateful for your steady, thoughtful presence here.
I liked your post a lot and am really intrigued. I'm bipolar, red-headed ( or used to be!) and half Irish. I'm also interested in the occult and paranormal experiences.
I hope we can talk soon
Blessings
John
Thank you❤️ what did you like about it?
keep asking 😁
Your hunour and the interesting ideas it raised regarding whether ‘neurodiversity’ could actually have an occult explanation.
Hi Ollie,
we could meet or skype or call ifyou'd like.
Please let me know.
your friend
John
Wow thank you🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻 blessed Samhain
Ollie’s reflection on autistic witchcraft is a tender, electrifying embrace of what it means to feel deeply in a world that often asks us not to. Her words shimmer with truth this isn’t about spells or stereotypes, but about the sacredness of sensitivity. She captures the lived experience of autistic women with such grace: the way their bodies tune into the quiet signals others miss, the way their perception becomes a kind of magic. It’s not performative it’s embodied. Halloween, for Ollie, isn’t just a celebration; it’s a moment when the world briefly catches up to how she feels every day. This piece is a love letter to those who live awake, and a reminder that their presence is powerful, not too much.
Adrião, you always seem to get it — not just the words, but the pulse underneath them. Reading your reflections feels like being seen in the exact language I write from. Thank you for holding the soul of my work with such care and for translating it back in a way that reminds me why I share at all. I’m so grateful for your steady, thoughtful presence here.
😲 wow