Gemini (May 21-June 20)
Even the arms of your Mama, lover or best friend won’t feel that comforting right now. That’s because you’re growing up, Gemini. That doesn’t mean you can never take refuge in those arms again—you just can’t right now. Those people will never deny you, but you must inevitably deny yourself, so you can develop the self-nurturing skills you need. You’re supposed to be the most versatile of signs, damn it, and that means being able to give as good as you get. Be strong and self-reliant. Don’t return to familiar sanctuaries until the solace you can provide yourself is at least 90 percent as good as what you get from your mom.
Cancer (June 21-July 22)
You’ll never be immune to the shit other people throw at you, especially those you love. There’s just no vaccination against caring, at least for you Cancerians. That’s actually good news. Many other signs, temporarily beaten by life, go numb, and spend whole years seeing in black and white and not feeling much of anything. That’s not really living, as you know. Look at this way: You may suffer more than most, but you’ll also live more than most. When you die, you can look back on your life and say: “I lived life to the fullest; I had no choice.” Now, is that such a bad thing?
Leo (July 23-Aug. 22)
You’ll pass on the harlot harem or stable of studs. You’re a one-wo/man guy/gal. There’s nothing wrong with that tried-and-true (if a bit old-fashioned) philosophy. Unfortunately you sometimes run into a cliché bit of torture: choosing between equally tempting available lovers. Your options are obvious: stick with the comfortable familiarity of your current paramour, or dive in to the exciting potentiality of the new prospect. There’s a third choice, however, and I wanted to make a point of telling you about it, aware as I am of your traditional sensibilities: Since this situation is one where you could ethically have your cake and eat it, too—if you were only open to the situation that allowed that possibility—won’t you consider not depriving yourself, and your lover(s)?
Virgo (Aug. 23-Sept. 22)
You’re in a kind of etheric hall of mirrors. You keep bumping into various versions of yourself—this one fat, this one wiry, this one blurred beyond all recognition—and getting yourself totally turned around. Now you don’t know which way is out, up, or in—never a good state for you poor Virgos, who like to point yourselves in a certain direction and stubbornly keep going, regardless of obstacles. That tactic won’t work here, or for another month or so at least, so it’s time to brainstorm new strategies, ones that won’t involve broken mirrors (and the requisite bad luck that accompanies them).
Libra (Sept. 23-Oct. 22)
Your friends might call you Quick-draw McGraw this week; your tears and laughter are on hair-triggers. You’re normally a sentimental sap anyway, but an especially sappy commercial is probably going to affect you like The Color Purple, and your neighbor’s kid telling you a knock-knock joke will roll you better than The Queens of Comedy. There’s not much you can do about those ticklish emotions lurking so close to the surface. So, Thin Skin, surround yourself with people (Cancers would be good) who’ll be sensitive to your hyper-empathy, not sneer at it.
Scorpio (Oct. 23-Nov. 21)
I keep witnessing Scorpios putting on collars (actual or metaphorical) lately. I attribute this to your deep craving for simplified choices. If you “belong” to someone, even in your own head, it limits all that devastating, overwhelming freedom. Are you crazy!? I can understand being exhausted by picking between plentiful paths, but this is what you’ve been working for: absolute freedom, or as close to it as you can realistically come. Now that you’re here, why do you want to submit to the constraints of a restricted reality again? Don’t doubt yourself. You have the strength, will, and ingenuity to brave the rigors of frontier spiritual territory. Don’t return to the compromised existence you led before you conceived of your own manifest destiny.
Sagittarius (Nov. 22-Dec. 21)
Unlike those overly loyal Leos, you’d kill for a bevy of bang-able beauties at your beck and call. That’s not to say you’re not loyal once you’ve committed to someone (au contraire, you’re in the zodiac top 3 in that department), but between Special Someones you’re only too happy to sow whole fields of wild oats. That’s why I’m so pleased about this week’s astrological forecast: you’re likely to have as many horny helpers as you could want. If you’re already happily chained to someone, they’re likely to show you at least two new aspects of themselves, in bed and out. Either way, you win.
Capricorn (Dec. 22-Jan. 19)
Give the cherry tree one more chance, one more season, to bear fruit before you chop it down. You planted that tree in your fertile soul-soil ages ago. By all rights, it should be sweetly feeding you and your friends by now. There’s a reason why it hasn’t, though: you. There’s only one limiting factor between you and the delicious bounty that should be yours. The reason you haven’t found and eliminated it yet is because you haven’t been looking for it. This week, figure out exactly what you’re doing to hold yourself back; once you do, it’ll be a cinch to just stop doing it.
Aquarius (Jan. 20-Feb. 18)
You’ll simply be unrecognizable in the coming weeks, as gushing emotions rage out of control in a way that’s entirely atypical for you—which is part of the problem. Damming feelings and only allowing small trickles to visibly escape into the outside world creates a reservoir of unexpressed emotion, just waiting to burst free. Eventually, that barrier fractures, causing a nervous breakdown, or at least major drama, destroying most of the fragile structures you’d repressed the feelings to create in the first place. If your dam ruptures, ride the flood (since resisting it will only make things worse). If it doesn’t, accept the fact that it inevitably will—unless you diligently spend the next few months developing pressure release valves; conduits for those emotions to get out without knocking things apart.
Pisces (Feb. 19-March 20)
Although your knack for appearing in two places at once is peaking, it’s not enough to cover all your bases—especially the extreme emotional demands being made on your poor, stretched-out soul, which is getting more threadbare than Grandma’s vintage panties. Thinning out your schedule (your usual last-ditch solution to dire circumstances) won’t cut it; more drastic measures are in order. Unfortunately the part of your life that’s most expendable right now is your healthy allotments of “Me Time.” On the other hand, you’re less in need of self-pampering than you have been in ages. Take care of the people who need you more than you do. You’ll get your down time when you most need it: later.
Aries (March 21-April 19)
Aries are often drawn to extreme sports—not because you have a death wish, but because you have a Life Wish. You never want to feel like living is just waiting to die. In order to remind yourself what life’s all about, you feel the need to walk the edge of the other side, so you can relish being on this side all the more. Luckily, this week, you’re likely to discover a new thrill that helps you remember what being 100 percent awake and alive is all about, and it doesn’t involve jumping from a plane, swimming with sharks, or playing in traffic. This one doesn’t entail you putting your life on the line at all—just your heart, your sanity, or both.
Taurus (April 20-May 20)
Your craving for junk food just tripled. You might find yourself at the grocery store filling your cart with corn dogs, corned beef, and candy corn. This perplexing fixation on foods that are bad for you is related to a spiritual ailment. Your soul is aching for comfort, Sweetheart, and seeking solace in the fatty arms of candy bars and candied yams is the only outlet you’re letting it have. Unless you want to balloon up during a self-denigrating downward spiral, I suggest you seek some other forms of spiritual nourishment, and fast—because Ben and Jerry’s is awfully convenient.
To contact Caeriel send mail to firstname.lastname@example.org.