December Horoscopes Cancer (June 21 – July 22) Dear Cancer, the joke you have been telling isn’t funny anymore. Avoid people until you come up with a new one. Hey Cancer, I’m not trying to tell you how to live. I don’t know any more about this burning hallucination (life) than you. I’m also stuck with the emptiness of things, the way that even simple tasks become complex when you start to think about them. This December needs a tiny hot candle, something we use to cast shadows against a wall. Try making the shape of a bird with your hands. Try writing as if you were sleeping, alone & not always at night. When was the last time you sent somebody a letter? When was the last time you felt good about the day? There is a war going on, and it is between who you are and who you daydream yourself to be. Take a break from living to write down your fantasies, letting the details glow in the paper, their words like street lamps guiding you in the night. Pretend that language were a pane of glass. Leo (July 23 – August 22) Dear Leo, it feels like December is spinning out of control. Who am I kidding, it feels like every month is spinning out of control. The idea is horrible to think about, so instead just touch your fingers to the opening of your mouth. Do you feel that, how when we breathe it creates our own kind of wind? How our teeth are skeletons that fall from our body when we start to die? Oh Leo, this month you are particularly prone to nosebleeds. Try stuffing folds of tissue into your pockets, and if anyone asks, wink and smile. In only a week, you will meet someone who will become very important to you. You will cry & cry after it doesn’t work out. Virgo (August 23 – September 22) Dear Virgo, I had a bad dream where I was a river. You were standing on the shore with your hands filled with sand. You were walking back & forth beside me, rubbing the sand with your fingers in wet & growing circles. It sounded like what mountains whisper to other mountains, the twisting wind you hear but never see. I wanted to talk to you, wanted you to climb inside me, but you could not see me. All you saw was river. I tried shout but all you could hear was the rushing of water, white as it passes over rocks. I tried to wave but I had no arms. Above us, the moon caught fire & the sky filled with smoke, red as the blood inside you. You coughed & choked, the smoke seeping out from your nostrils. There was a taste in my mouth like lightbulbs, stronger & harder with each breath. You lay facedown in the sand, suddenly naked, suddenly sinking into the soil. There was nothing I could do. I was a river. I was moving through the trees towards some other body of water, so far away. I wished I could wake up. I wished it didn’t hurt with every thought of you. Libra (September 23 – October 22) Dear Libra, is that a carton of eggs in your refrigerator? Is it that when you ride the bus to work, the wet taste of aloneness? Can you hear the alarm clock pouring from the empty bedroom of your roommate? What kind of relationship is this, sprawling & canyonesque? Is not the warmth of our bodies a language we talk through? Is this not just another routine? How does the placement of past & future tense affect meaning? Can you feel the weight of clothes wet with the hush of rain? Is there enough for everyone to eat? Is it true the sky is mostly water? Can the possibility of a future oriented referentiality exist within this form, & how does that alter your reading of this ‘horoscope’? Why do we live in cycles? What material is your sweater made from? Why digital? In what ways is breathing similar to percussion? How can we account for the conversations of birds? How about your hands? What do they hold? Scorpio (October 23 – November 21) Dear Scorpio, you need a vacation. You need a place where you can notice the things in a state of constant change. When you return, your problem will suddenly seem clear. Wouldn’t it be nice to view our lives from the distance of clouds passing in blue light? To vibrate at the same frequency as a question left unanswered? It’s not you I’m talking to right now, it’s the image of who I think you might be. That’s the problem. I know you but cannot recognize you, or maybe the other way around. Maybe hummingbirds circle around our wrists. Do you think I’m a kite drifting between clouds? I want to tell you something. Just yesterday I was driving a car, the mountains all swallowed in fog. It was the time of day when the sun leaves, but the sky is still haunted with the ghosts of daylight. The car turned along the mountain pass & the fog lit up in oranges & reds. I thought, if I can find a place like this, something existing for the breath of a moment & then disappearing, then you can find your own way through December. I believe you. Sagittarius (November 22 – December 21) Dear Sagittarius, stop walking around with the skyline around your neck. Stop allowing your words to come out garbled & backwards. Stop pretending that dreams do not exist, that what we do at night is nothing. Hey Sagittarius, pick a project to carry through to spring. You need something to fill your hands. To bend & fold, to pull & pull apart. I have an idea, can you hear the birds outside your window? They are there, they are always there, just put this horoscope down & go look. When you return, ask yourself how many birdsongs you know by heart. How many birds you know by name. That’s the thing, I can tell the difference between the ringtones of Iphones & Droids, but I have no idea what to do with the natural sounds around me. I know it feels arbitrary, but the only things worth anything are usually arbitrary. We live on a giant rock falling to the bottom of some soft abyss, so most of our lives are probably pretty arbitrary. Learn the names of some birds. Capricorn (December 22 – January 19) Dear Capricorn, I want to tell you a story that takes place in December. Once, five children wandered through a forest the color of wet moss. As the five children walked, they left a trail of footsteps behind them. One of the children pointed at the sky, where dark clouds were forming. The rains came & filled their footprints with water, tiny swimming pools that flowed into each other. The children ran screaming through the woods, their clothing soaked & heavy against their skin. The noise woke a bear with yellow honey dripping from its mouth, disturbed in its hibernation. The bear with yellow honey dripping from its mouth knew that it was not supposed to wake until spring, that the air was too cold, that the bushes were bare when there should be berries. The bear with yellow honey dripping from its mouth was angry, it’s paws like knives in the moonlight. The five children did not know they had woken him. Later, only one of them emerged from the woods. Aquarius (January 20 – February 18) Dear Aquarius, in your life something does not feel right. The clock is moving slow & your eyes are almost always tired. Sometimes things happen that you don’t understand. Look for new ways to cool down your emotions. Walk in the shape of a crescent moon across your neighborhood. Ask a friend out for ice cream. When they arrive, actually scream. If you are having trouble staying hydrated, by a bottle of fancy mineral water. It’s just like soda with the bubbles but it might be a little better for your teeth. Oh Aquarius, this month turns & turns & turns as slow as windmills covered in freshly planted snow. Remember, you can blame everything on other people or you could not. Like right now. What are you doing? At a laptop? On your phone? Did you know that we live in a time when actual birds exist (which is actually more than can be said for most of the history of the earth)? Sometimes I sit at the window & think about birds. I think about birdbaths, wet stone in the middle of a lawn. I think about hummingbird feeders & wonder what that would mean if it was the title of an actual human job. Hummingbird Feeder. Hey Aquarius, do you think there are any jobs involving birds that you could look into this month? That seems like a fun idea. I had this dream where you handed me a business card that read: AQUARIUS; BIRD PERSON. It was really cool. When you smiled, I could tell that you were happy. I felt only love & respect towards you. Pisces (February 19 – March 20) Dear Pisces, in the interest of becoming a better human, try being more honest with others. There is someone in your life you have been misleading, not dramatically, but in the way that a stick floating downstream sometimes drags against the sand. Maybe this person is your best friend. Maybe this person is yourself. The next time you walk to work, pay attention to the trees. It’s not the way they move, but the way the world moves through them. The way the branches swing like arms & the wind runs up their sleeves. Try to give every branch a name. Oh Pisces, I worry about December. I worry that the clouds will be replaced by thousands of hungry moths. I’m worried that we will not notice until the flapping of wings fills the air. I’m worried about what happens when it’s time to snow. Aries (March 21 – April 19) Dear Aries, you are working too hard & you need to relax. You need to sit down on the couch with a book of poems by Rilke & you need to chiiiiiiiiiill ouuuut. You need to put your feet on top of something, & when your hips begin to cramp, you need to take them right off. You are like a golden bird that cries at sunrise. I love how you love the people you love. I love that funny way you use a fork. Hey Aries, last night I had a dream where you & I exploded with antlers. We walked around outside our home in the snow, locking our heads together. I could feel the bristles against my bristles, the network of bones underneath. A small girl approached from the sidewalk with an ice cream cone. She was frozen through with snow, her hair in long sheets of glass falling to the ground. You asked me if she was okay, if there was anything we could do to help her. She raised her hands to her mouth & pointed, a tunnel of darkness that stretched like night inside her. I woke before she had a chance to speak. Taurus (April 20 – May 20) Dear Taurus, I want to melt 2015 down into a charm for you to carry in your pocket. When everyone asks why you have 2015 in your pocket, tell them that it keeps you from repeating past mistakes. That’ll show ‘em. Hey Taurus, sometimes I want to throw my couch in a campfire. Sometimes I want to throw about half of 2015 in a campfire, too. I want to roast weenies over an open flame with you. Hey Taurus, I know that this seems like a really nice place in your life, but I worry that your hair will turn into snakes of poisonous desire. Try doubling the amount of eggs you eat for breakfast. Try learning how to handstand. Try reading David Sheppard’s excellent biography of Brian Eno: On Some Faraway Beach. Even if you don’t know or give a flip about Brian Eno there are some important life lessons about creativity, I think. I think creativity is important, not as like ‘a thing to do’ but like ‘a way to live’, & if that means that December is the month that you finally quit your job to pursue your dreams, then I’m glad that this horoscope is there as a catalyst. Hey Taurus, I worry that you are not drinking enough water. It’s seriously so important to our vital functions. I love you. I want you to stay alive. Gemini (May 21 – June 20) Dear, last night I dreamed of the empty rumble of trains, the sounds they make as they move. It feels important, Gemini, as if the person inside my head wants to talk to the person inside your head. The person inside my head wants to say: stay moving. Go to the store & buy a vegetable you have never tasted. Try replacing coffee with tea & take notes on how you feel. Read anything you can find by Arthur Craven. What do you think about just before you fall asleep? Last night I was thinking about how true silence doesn’t exist, how we close ourselves off from experiencing the way the world folds around us. With my eyes closed, I could hear the wind in the leaves. The quiet chatter of my neighbors on their porch. The refrigerator humming from two rooms away. My roommate watching Gilmore Girls. It was really hard to sleep. theeeel.com/december-horoscopes-zachary-cosby/
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