April 3-10

Truthing

I am rubber and you are glue.

♈ Aries: March 21–April 19:
You need to stop trying to bend the world like you learned to bend spoons with your mind. You knew then that it was your furiously hot hand that moved metal, and lying to yourself is not it during a full moon. It’s spring. The world is waking up. You can feel your blood heating again, and by June you could be back on the trickery unless you choose to step away. No one likes magic shows any more. They are very 1989, and you are here for the future. We need you fresh, because you’re our braying, dancing, ramming beast at the front of the parade.

♉ Taurus: April 20–May 20:

No one needs to see what goes on when you close your door. You do not need to bore us any longer by explaining it. We love you when you’re quietly being dull, because your dull edges are the kind that move glaciers with slow drips. Do not try to match anyone’s speed ever again. Every spring, for the rest of your life (unless you make it past 140) is going to be a chance to remember your pedantic tedium, your plodding banalities, the glue that holds us tight in a hug. We love you.

♊ Gemini: May 21–June 21:
Could you take a minute? The falling towers aren’t stopping for a while, and you do not need to watch this time. You are welcome to roll over and look at the wall instead. In fact, it’s necessary for humanity that you stare at walls until you can see your eyelash tips and hear your nose hairs. You are requiring a significant amount of rest for what is ahead. Please roll over now.

♋ Cancer: June 22–July 22:
It’s time to shine, schoop. You can sit in the middle of the dance-off ring and cry to the beat. You can sing Peter Frampton at the karaoke. You can reread your diaries out loud to the table and we will cry along with your glory. It is the moment you need to vault into the limelight and own the floor. Slip on your tears and fall on your ass, and hankies are going to appear from every pocket you see. You are crying the tears for us all.

♌ Leo: July 23–August 22:

Your mission is quite absurd, which is suitable to such a beast as you. You are being asked to restock your pasta, and choose pleasing shapes. You are being asked to throw out the old toothpaste tubes, and the tiny soap bars you sneakily cling to in secret. This is a full moon to lose the mess from your bags. Tip them into the trash — we suggest the one by the grocery store that you can’t dig through later. Shred your documents. Someone is looking for receipts. Don’t let them find them.

♍ Virgo: August 23–September 22:
You are going to feel a strong compulsion to confess to every time you laughed at someone’s pain, and the times you scribbled comics of their follies to show your friends. You aren’t going to be able to contain your guilty conscience right now, and it’s important to find your vault. This could be an animal, but it won’t be as magical as a person that has working receptors and a kind heart. Bonus points for choosing our resident leaky faucet, the Cancer friend. Book a date before Sunday and spill it all. Then walk away and be free.

♎ Libra: September 23–October 23:
You might find the following things happen this week: you’ll sleep in your bed upside-down like Pippi Longstocking, you’ll suddenly decide to suck cloves, you’ll wear someone else’s actual shoes to play a trick no one understands, and you could cut down a tree for the first time in your life. Anything is normal, and nothing feels real. If you feel like a muppet, and you can’t see who is making you move, but you know you are hilarious and cute, this is where you lean in.

♏ Scorpio: October 24–November 21:
Stay off climbing apparatuses, stay away from small grocery carts, and do not take the stairs two at a time. The bad luck you threw at everyone else has stuck to you and needs to clear out before the moon starts to wane again. It would be a good idea to wear really good shoes with non-slip soles, and to remember your glasses. It’s not going to be your week to be cute. Wear a long coat (you’re definitely going to need to cover stains).

♐ Sagittarius: November 22–December 21:

Unsettling as it is, your lies are going to start laughing at your face from the mouth’s of strangers. You likely will hear gossip about yourself from someone who boldly tells you a tale that involves you, but that has been broken-telephoned beyond your reach, and forgets your name, but remembers your deeds. Everyone tells lies, but most of us confess faster than you do. Except Aries. You might want to keep your distance from each other, tbh. Eat some bagels, avoid veggies.

♑ Capricorn: December 22–January 19

I hope you get some clear weather, because your week needs to include some sky-gazing, friend. It’s your zone for serious healing. It will be like a chamomile tea sky, or a movie-popcorn sky, or a grits and gravy sky. Like a newborn baby, your circadian rhythm is going to be drumming off-beat for a bit. Let it happen, it’s going to grow out of you.

♒ Aquarius: January 20–February 18:

Yes, it is normal to decide this is the time to make your own paper from pulp, or your pasta from potato skins, or washing-up soap from ashes. It’s normal that you are writing disjointed lists while you alphabetize your canned goods. It is normal that you decide, for the first time, to read the directions on every bottle you use (even the shampoo). The age is now, and you are the lightning rod of the cosmos. Please be normal — and normal is you, being you. You are now the norm. This is the revolution.

♓ Pisces: February 19–March 20:

Outside will be whispering for you loudly. The ice is melting, and your little fins are going to start swimming a bit again. You needed to lay frozen in that mud for reasons that aren’t for you to understand. Just like math, and the insides of pencils, there are things that you don’t need to understand to enjoy. When you are back in the stream and strong enough to swim against the current for the fun of it, you will be the person who knew what was happening in this frozen lake bottom of your life. It’s going to be okay. You’re taken care of. You’re in the celestial school of fish people. Plink, plink, plonk.