WHY IS MY HOROSCOPE ALL WEIRD?
More to the point — why is my horoscope all weird right now?
I mean, c’mon — sumthin’ crazysnakes is clearly gowin’ down in the celestial vapors, palpable as a bug-eyed fly makin’ with a waterboardin’-style plip plip plip as it dips its mandibular feelo-suckers in runny cheese.
Don’t haveta read a word; you can feel this vibe so close up an’ personal it is likeya are gonna birth Cthuloid triplets.
But before I don my Astro-apparela Consummate Stargazy Expertise an’ answer the more specific question, lemme fix on sum general basics gonna beef upya Horoscope Awareness Talents.
Why Is My Horoscope All Weird? Prolly Cos I Am All Weird.
Libra excepted, this is almost always never true.
You may act on your horoscope, but inflooencin’ it is a harder trickta pull — unlessya are an astrologist or astrologer or astrolodjinni person, in which case you got sum control cos Mother Cosmosis grantsya special permission to write out the magic words.
Thinka what would happen if mebbe Leo got inflooential Weirdo Power over her daily ‘scopes.
An’ I am thinkin’ ‘bout Shaney Skelangro here — yanno, the gal from Maine with the goofy teeth an’ zero control over her Crush Squee Siren?
Yeah, that Shaney.
So she is sittin’ in her room with her (frankly stoopid lookin’) dog, an’ she reads romance is in the air for you, Leo, so go breathe it in with pranayama verve and expect love to come knocking!
Forget for a sec that Shaney is a geeky kinda gal an’ would never practise Yoga less’n she got abducted by mindful aliens checkin’ hoomanity for physical bendiness.
Point is, prolly her dog gonna flee downstairs at this point as decidedly non-yogic (an’ essentially weirsdily habityool) squee breaths fire offa her lungs with such ballistic venom she is gonna need a frickin’ ribcage replacement by the agea 24 if’n she don’t sort herself out on the love thang.
(An’ for more on the love thang, check out how astro compatibility got isshoos here an’ replay Valentine’s Day here to figure how eacha the signs figures in the Romance & Eromance departiemente.)
Gotta figure that readin’ your horoscope indicates you got sum kinda desire for self-improvement, most likely based on evidence your life currently sucks, so that last parta the ‘scope is really gonna set Shaney’s pulse racin’ — hence the hyperventilational gymnastics.
Love knocks, an’ physiological wappocraft kicks off — in that order — an’ when Shaney re-reads the breathin’ to blendyjuicy narrative suggested by the ‘scope, her immediate experience (dog has now slashed its throat outta pure terror btw) kinda says this horoscope is all weird because I am all weird.
By the enda the week, when Quentinola de Prescioquincunschwangoglossen drops career recieves a boost today as flirty Mercury hooks up with charming Venus, Shaney’s funeral is greeted by fam and friends alike as ‘the outcome of desperate plea to find true love in a harsh and cruel world that mysteriously coincided with the frenzied decapitation of her beloved Schnauzer Legolas at the hands of the family breadknife’.
So is your horoscope all weird because you are all weird?
Trust me — you do not wanna go there.
Why Is my Horoscope All Weird? Prolly Cos Evrythin’ Is All Weird.
Stoopid thing is, that sounds pretty accurate to Moi.
Assoomin’ evrythin’ includes alla the planets whose intertwinklin’ is responsible for alla the celestialvapor-swishin’ zodiacal action allows gifted astrologer persons to formulate horoscopes in the first place, then if an astrological entity like The Moon forms a significant aspect with, say, Mars, while elsewhere in the orbital dance routine Joopiter hits real subtle on Pluto with a once-in-a-generation aspect got more syllables to its name than Scorpio can down cocktails in an hour an’ still stay standin’, then this specific (nay, weird) celestial combo is precisely the raw material gonna fuel horoscopes for eacha the signs.
Or from where else is alla the astrological schwango derived?
Catch here is how EVRYTHIN’ (weird or no) can inflooenceya HOROSCOPE (weird or no) — an’ yet YOU (sum small parta evrythin’) (an’ most certainly weird as batshit in my book if you are hangin’ out with Moi) CANNOT.
Do not ask me to resolve this thorny issue right now.
I am not a frickin’ botanist.
Why Is My Horoscope All Weird? Prolly Cos Life Itself Is All Weird.
I like this very much.
It is organic an’ fluid — indicativea heart, passion an’ mutual adventurepops.
Gotta figure most people look upon their horoscope as a kinda touchstone momentarily reconnectin’ ‘em with values, feelings an’ aspirations they hold dear.
Sajjo jus’ loves readin’Sajjo stuff, I guess — same as resta the Zodiac drills down on their superpersonal 8.3%a the astro action.
Sure, we got other stuff also, like favo shoes, places we like to go, structurally bizarre lizards we keep under the bed an’ get out at night when we cannot sleep (Shaney Skelangro’s bestie does this, btw), but where shit goes wrong is when people confuse considered prediction with certainty an’ view their horoscope as a script or instruction manual steada the producta sum drunken harridan a kinda landscape or blenda zeitgeists/potentialities — or jus’ a plain ol’ selectiona stuffya might wanna consider today.
Truth is, astrology got no more claim on the fyooture than money guys gamblin’ on their assets, politicians advocatin’ values, an’ anyone bettin’ thousandsa dollars on the boxer with the biggest dick.
Eacha these predictive disciplines got past form gonna inform — but it is only partial.
Jus’ cos astrology takes in’ evrythin’ don’t mean it is the final word on anythin’.
I do not like any kinda situation where EVRYTHIN’ may inflooence or control US, but we don’t get to reciprocate.
Enter into such an arrangement wilfully, then I figure you are fuckin’ stoopid.
So I would want horoscopes always to be touchstones.
Small an’ illoominatingly regular skips through time an’ space upon which you might wanna reflect so you can better effect changesya wanna see.
You are cast in all kindsa ways — butya are also FREE.
Think I said sumthin’ about this starta 2017 when I considered what it might mean to be resolved whenya desire for change comes up rough against … ulp … evrythin’.
Why Is My Horoscope All Weird Right Now?
Becauseya are not alone.
History shows how the world evolves through successionsa definable epochs.
Problem is, whenya are dumped right in the middlea one as it is playin’ out, day-to-day speculation wins out over proclamatory epochulation.
Truth is, we trooly DO NOT KNOW what is emergin’right now, an’ until science fits us all up with time-warpin’ cyberboobies, gotta figure our lives’re so brief we cannot revisit earlier times an’ look for clues gonna help us (beyond mebbe bonin’ up on shit don’t come offa the internets).
Drillin’ down smaller, you mebbe got sumthin’ to work with — an’ that is why I run regular monthly horoscopes.
Once evry 30 days, you can drop on by an’ touch base with sum small fragmenta the Cosmos’s divine wonder as manifested in 300 wordsa incandescently profound garbage.
(I am quotin’ my beta reader here. Do not blame me for any praise currently orbitin’ Moi.)
Thing is, you seen April before, you got feelings for her, an’ despite only 11 months passin’ sinceya las’ met up an’ hung out, she cannot be relied upon to be exactly the same.
There is noo stuff, there is always noo stuff — besta all there is noo stuffya made for yourself.
As a free agent inflooenced by EVRYTHIN’, no less!
Natcho, you want this freedom to continue, an’ your horoscope figures alongside alla the other stuffya got gowin’ down inya life narrative armory, but April 2017 got a planetary showdown gowin’ on kinda makes consultin’ your horoscope touchstone almost DANGEROUS.
The heavens blaze with ardent an’ impassioned FIRE — not the warmin’ Leo kind nor the inspirational Sajjo variety, no no no we are talkin’ the weaponized, carbonizin’ Aries kind — while the people-friendly sweetheart planets — Venus an’ Joopiter — play dirty c/o retrograde energy sickness alongside THE REAL FUCKIN’ MONSTERS — Mercury, Saturn an’ Plooto — havin’ a MUTUAL BAD HAIR DAY GROUCH FEST an’ seekin’ only to DESTROY! DESTROY! DESTROY!
Easily irritated Arian violence meets a quintuple cuntfesta SMOTHER, SWAT, STIFLE, STING an’ STUFF HARD UP THE POOPER.
Sadly, that is not weird — it is the truth.
So, yeah — “Horoscope All Weird” prolly sums up where shit is at right now for most evryone.
But what else d’ya want?
Horoscope All Same Old Same Old — Exactly As It Was When My Dear Grandaddy’s Gandaddy’s Grandaddy Consulted HIS Horoscope Touchstone And Smiled With Duped Contentment That The Cosmos Existed In Such Near-Permanent Stasis He Went Round And Round And Round And Round And Round And Round And Round And Round In The Same Old Circles Till His Teeth Fell Out And He FUCKIN’ DIED?
C’mon — I am tryin’ to saveya here.
Title Image c/o Steve Buissinne @ Pixabay
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