I’ll admit it: I am deeply, unapologetically, irrationally superstitious. Call it habit, call it paranoia, call it the very thing that keeps me from recklessly stepping on sidewalk cracks—I don’t care. It’s in my DNA at this point, and frankly, I’m not about to test fate.
Let’s get one thing straight: I don’t just throw salt over my shoulder; I launch it like I’m seasoning the heavens. If I spill salt and don’t immediately counteract it, I assume doom is imminent. The last time I forgot? I got an unexpected bill in the mail and a latte that was suspiciously less frothy than usual. Coincidence? Absolutely not.
Mirrors? They are not to be broken under any circumstances. I don’t care if it’s an accident, I will be standing in the wreckage of that glass whispering incantations to cancel out the seven years of bad luck. If it means gluing the shards back together like some kind of cursed mosaic, so be it. I’ll fix it.
Walking under ladders? Not on my watch. If I see one, I will cross the street, reroute my entire journey, and possibly cancel plans just to avoid it. And don’t get me started on black cats. I love them, but if one crosses my path, I will find a way to take three steps backward like I just rewound a horror movie scene.
I refuse to leave a hat on the bed. This one baffles people, but listen—bad luck clings to that like a static charge. I don’t make the rules; I just enforce them like my life depends on it. And do not hand me a knife directly. Set it down. Let me pick it up. Handing it to me is basically asking for an argument, and I simply don’t have time for a cursed feud over cutlery.
And yet, despite my ironclad rules of engagement with the universe, I still push the boundaries just enough to keep things interesting. Sometimes I’ll open an umbrella indoors just to see if my nerves can handle it. (Spoiler: they cannot.)
You think that’s bad? Wait until you hear about my relationship with owls. Some people think they’re wise, majestic creatures, but I know better. If an owl hoots near my house at night, I brace myself for bad news. If I see one staring at me in the daytime? That’s an omen if I’ve ever seen one. And if one dares to cross my path in flight? You best believe I will be lighting a protective candle and staging a full-blown cleansing ritual. The universe may be subtle in its warnings, but not when it comes to owls. They see things we don’t, and I don’t need them seeing me for any reason.
Then there’s the whole thing about sweeping over someone’s feet—oh, the horror! If you’ve never heard this one, count yourself lucky, but if someone runs a broom over your feet, you’re doomed to never get married. And while that ship has sailed for me, I still react like someone just threw a hex my way. You best believe I will snatch that broom and counteract the curse before you can say “superstition.”
Oh, and let’s talk about full moons. People act like they’re just a pretty celestial event, but I know better. Hospitals fill up, people act erratic, technology glitches—it’s chaos in a glowing, mystical orb. When there’s a full moon, I light candles, clutch my crystals (because, of course, I have crystals), and stay in my house like a modern-day witch avoiding a bad omen.
Am I over the top? Probably. But in a world that feels increasingly unpredictable, my little rituals make me feel like I’ve got a sliver of control. Maybe it’s silly, maybe it’s all in my head, but I’d rather be over-prepared than unprotected. And if you ever catch me knocking on wood three times mid-sentence, just know: I’m not taking any chances.
#Superstition #BadLuck #GoodLuck #LuckyCharms #FullMoonVibes #Superstitious #NoBadOmens #ProtectYourEnergy #StayLucky #SaltOverShoulder
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