by L

by |
03/29/2006 12:00 AM |

I used to be pretty convinced that fall was the most nostalgic of all seasons, drawing the unsuspecting sentimental type into dark reveries of mortality… But holy shit Aries! Every season is a catalyst for deep looks within! Spring is upon us, reminding us of snow-fed brooks, limpid tarns and skittering fauns. Goddamn it’s a cruel month. Fuck. Don’t be afraid to reach out if things get too bleak.

It’s a nice thought, starting all over again. But do you really want to go through those painful teenage years, bumping into the incandescent awkwardness of first lust, wrestling with the certainty of your own death, learning that it’s actually bad to wear white socks unless you’re playing tennis? You don’t. So maybe, Taurus, just maybe, a new haircut is all you need to turn things around.

Rooftops: An undiscovered resource. Think of all that lovely space, out in the soft dusky light, everything spread before you like the toys of your youth… Life is a grinding absurdity, filled with rules as arbitrary as the ether, but damn if it doesn’t hurt to simply reconfigure your perspective on the whole ridiculous mess every now and then. Gemini, get up there, so you can look down on it all.

Are looking for your songbird, Cancer? Are you looking for your sins? What exactly are you doing? Your willful persona as the eccentric noodler won’t hold up forever. As life’s inoperable responsibilities metastasize around you, the whimsical striped pants begin to lose their zing. Why’ve you always dressed like an overgrown French school child? Why must you mock me with your smock?

We all dream of our own small heaven: an improbably perfect set up that allows us to relax but is enough of a challenge to keep us feeling alive. Leo, I’ve found that setup: organizing interoffice tee-ball games. Shut up, it’s true. You get to work with people with nice clothes, and things are always changing but not so much you can’t take a nap in the supply room. It’s awesome!

Where are the heroes Virgo? Where are the bronzeate statues of purity who shine their brave light upon us, giving us hope where once there was none? Where? Nowhere. Sorry, but they never were. We’ll always be human, and though we’re capable of great things, we cannot ask perfection of even those among us who seem so grand… This goes for you, you know. Take it easy.

Some days you wake up before the alarm goes off, shocked into consciousness by phantoms of doubt and anxiety, your heart sinking as the sun rises, and you think you’ll never make it outside. Well, Libra, outside isn’t all it’s cracked up to be: it’s just an intra-subjectivity of spacetime events ruled by dull convention and tedious physical laws. Create a cocoon in your comforter, and stay there.

The sound of a cat trapped in a tin garbage can is not pleasant, it behooves a person to act — as does most any instance of cruelty or misfortune. But why is it, Scorpio, that good things so rarely catalyze action? Why doesn’t the soft breath of a new spring rain galvanize us? The smell of cupcakes baking in the oven? Let your newfound happiness move you, and move you to extremes.

Much has been made of the bicoastal divide in America, the so-called San Francisco-New York Effect. (And do you notice how all the coolest cities in the USA have two words in them? Los Angeles! Port Land! Awe Sten! Freaky right?) So if you’re going to move anywhere, Sagittarius, I would suggest bearing all this in mind. And if you’re not thinking of moving… maybe you should be.

You never could sing very well, could you Capricorn? Your enthusiasm was never in doubt, nor were your accompanying dance moves anything but spectacular — but in this life, the sooner we realize when we’re behaving like idiots, the sooner we can get on with life. So, to recap: you shouldn’t sing in public, it looks bad. And not funny-cool bad either, just embarrassing. Shit.

Shadows line up everywhere, waiting to march deep into the nighttime darkness; ravens tighten their Windsor knots, flash their beaks at passing traffic; the aquarium glass cracks; children sigh; the rain leaves angry marks where it falls. Today is going to be a bad one, Aquarius, I don’t know how else to put it. If you have the option, take the day off work and rent some Three’s Company. 

The employment of martial analogies is not infrequently useful in providing clarity to life’s unpleasant situations. With that in mind, Pisces, let’s look at your present conundrum, aka the Siege of Leningrad. You’re tired, hungry, and running out of ammo; you’re trying to deal with one situation, but all this other crap keeps happening. Finally, you don’t even speak German. Oh no!