Horoscopes: June
Gemini | May 21–Jun 21
You are having a good time. You don’t trust this. Why should you? What about being good is ever actually good anyway? Besides, what you want, Gem, goes beyond good, or, rather, it goes inside good and clears it out, hollows its crystalline shell, empties its perfect skeleton, leaves nothing but the echo of a whispered shout tickling your ear. May I suggest some trips by the water this month? You’ll have a good time.
Cancer | Jun 22–Jul 22
There is a castle in a cloud; you like to go there in your dreams. Or, wait, no. No! I’ve got that wrong. I meant to say that there is a cloud in a castle, and you like to go there when you cook. Yes, cook! Which maybe do more of right now, Cancer? Cook. Nest. Take care of your cloud and your castle. And do it while you’re awake. Now is a very important time to be paying attention to all that’s happening around you. Which, frankly, is a lot.
Leo | July 23–Aug 22
When was the last time you were embarrassed? I’ll tell you mine if you’ll tell me yours. Mine was when I tried to spell embarrassed without relying on autocorrect. Okay, now your turn. Speak up. See, it’s not that bad, now is it? Really, Leo, the secret here is that nothing is worth being embarrassed about because nothing is really that bad. Except analyzing whether or not celebrities are feminist enough. Kill me now.
Virgo | Aug 23–Sep 22
I don’t believe in spirit animals, I don’t believe in ghosts in the machine. What I do believe in is the possibility of perfection, and I know you do too, Virgo. Your standards are high, and there are plenty of people out there who will tell you to settle for something less than what you know is right, but fuck them. Burn through them all. Get what you want. It will be worth it in the end. Don’t let good enough get in the way of what you want.
Libra | Sep 23–Oct 22
There’s a nursery rhyme about a little old lady who lives in a shoe who had so many children she didn’t know what to do. This is the literal opposite of your life, Libra; your feet are tiny; “so many children” is really not your thing. At all. In other words, nursery rhymes are weird. Lots of them involve men in beards and fully clothed fish and magic mushrooms. Time for some better bedtime stories. Maybe one about queens.
Scorpio | Oct 23–Nov 21
You’re hurtling towards something, Scorpio, and it’s not hard to say towards what, just when you’ll feel the impact. Actually, it is kind of hard to say towards what. I keep rubbing and rubbing at my eyes and I can barely see a thing anymore. Have you been experiencing that too? A total lack of clarity? A feeling like you’re always one minute behind or ahead? But you don’t even know, like, what time zone you’re even in anymore? Yeah, it’s confusing.
Sagittarius | Nov 22–Dec 21
Lately I’ve been thinking how much fun it will be when I’m an old woman. What’s not to like, really? I’ll be able to get away with only wearing clothes with elastic waistbands and can decorate my home with as many candy dishes full of peanut M&Ms as I want. No one will judge me and I can take care of myself and put my needs first all the time. Oh, wait. Maybe I (and you) should be doing that now? Yeah, I think so!
Capricorn | Dec 22–Jan 19
I’ve been spending far too much time lately lining up pills all in a row, arranging assortments of tiny decorative objects in pleasing patterns. Why am I so obsessed with the small things, Capricorn? Probably because the big stuff scares me. Does it scare you? Or are you instead welcoming the void by throwing pennies into it and making wishes? Well! Which is it?
Aquarius | Jan 20–Feb 18
You know how, like, broccoli is the best vegetable and the best dinner is a great big verdant pile of it, showered with lemon and parmesan and drizzled with grassy green olive oil? I know you do! When I was a child someone told me that, as a punishment, they’d make me eat my way out of a room of broccoli and I laughed and laughed. My point is, I’d make that happen for you as a present. You deserve all good green things.
Pisces | Feb 19–Mar 20
I know there are times when it seems like we are powerless in the face of our own immutable fates. And all too often that future looks grim. But I think there’s some relief in that. We can see what’s coming. We can prepare. And when the winds howl and the rain beats at our door, we can build something we’ll know is ours and hunker down inside our own little pocket of the future.
Aries | Mar 21–Apr 19
Have you ever known a man who you could have sworn was a wolf? There was something about the scruff of soft hair at his neck, a piercing look in his eyes, a curve to his nostril, a tense and twitching muscle in his jaw. This isn’t a man, you cried. Men don’t do these things! Except, of course, they do. We all have the bite and the bark in us; you, Aries, more than anyone. But that’s ok. Humans are doomed anyway. Long live the wolf.
Taurus | Apr 20–May 20
I really can’t decide which is worse: an endless summer or one that never quite starts. Both conditions degrade us in different ways; they demoralize us, disengage us from our rightful place—or even any sense of it. But what can we do to change the weather? Nothing on a grand scale; it’s too late for that. But we can set little fires, Taurus. They still burn bright. We can bathe in icy cold waters. They still cleanse us. That’s gotta count for something.
