Intention Isn’t Enough: Witchcraft Requires Will

Intent is cute. But it’s not the spell.

You can intend to stop at a red light all day long, but unless you slam your damn foot on the brake, you’re gonna plow through traffic and leave wreckage behind. That’s not fate. That’s failure to act. The universe doesn’t give a shit about your good intentions. It answers power. It answers will.

The Myth of Intention

Modern witches have been coddled by the cult of niceness. Somewhere along the way, someone whispered, "It’s all about intention," and a thousand half-baked TikTok rituals were born.

Let me be blunt: intention is useless without force behind it.

Pointing your finger doesn’t make the fire light. Wishing doesn’t cut the cord. Aesthetic spells with no guts behind them are just spiritual dress-up. No amount of rose quartz and affirmations is going to shift reality if you’re too afraid to move your ass.

Intent is the excuse. Will is the act.

You can’t manifest a different life by closing your eyes and pretending it’s already yours. Magic requires teeth. Pressure. Consequences. You want real results? Put some skin in the game.

Will: The Muscle of Magic

Will is the part where you stop performing and start doing.

In folk magic, we don’t sit around journaling our dreams and waiting for the moon to bless us. We spit, bleed, howl, and move. We know that wanting something doesn’t mean shit unless you’re ready to back it with action and risk.

Will is not nice. It’s not gentle. It doesn’t coddle your fears. It demands you show up—fully, fiercely, without apology.

It asks: What are you willing to do to get what you came for?

And most people flinch. Because they’re used to rituals that feel like therapy and smell like bath bombs.

The Crooked Man’s Take

I don’t deal in soft spells or empty affirmations. I deal in force.

When I cast, I’m not just visualizing—I’m summoning. I’m bargaining. I’m breaking and binding. I’m speaking in the language that spirits understand: action.

If you tell me you want to manifest love, I’m going to ask what ugly shit you’re still clinging to. What emotional rot you’re too cowardly to cut loose. What parts of yourself you’re willing to bury to make space for what’s real.

Because spells aren’t therapy. They’re decisions. And they cost.

Witchcraft is bloody. Unforgiving. And honest.

You don’t get to whisper your way into power. You claw your way in.

A Final Word

Intent is cheap. Everyone’s got some.

Will is what separates the witch from the dreamer.

If you’re not willing to burn for it, don’t bother lighting the candle.

Magic doesn’t care what you meant.

It cares what you did.