★ masks as the rising signs & the hidden self as the 12th house ★
★ aries rising | 12th house in pisces ★ — mask: the warrior | hidden self: the dreamer drowning in emotions
aries rising moves like they’re late to battle. their handshake is firm, their gaze sharp, their posture always forward-leaning. they don’t just walk—they charge. their presence is fiery, demanding attention, as if they’re constantly proving they can handle anything. they laugh loudly, speak quickly, and move like they have somewhere better to be. their energy screams unstoppable.
but beneath the armor, pisces sits in the 12th house—a hidden self that is soft, uncertain, and deeply emotional. when alone, they stare at ceilings for hours, letting their thoughts drift into nostalgic daydreams. they listen to music that makes them ache. they’re terrified of looking weak, so they wear confidence like a shield. they put on the mask because if they don’t, the world might see how easily they drown in their own emotions. so, they keep moving, never letting anyone catch them standing still.
★ taurus rising | 12th house in aries ★ — mask: the unshakable rock | hidden self: the restless fighter
taurus rising moves deliberately, never rushed. their voice is measured, their words chosen carefully. they make eye contact without blinking, nod thoughtfully, and exude stability. they rarely fidget. they’re the person you lean on, the one who never seems to panic. they dress neatly, prefer routines, and always seem composed—like nothing shakes them.
but deep inside, aries in the 12th house wants to run. their hidden self is restless, impulsive, and constantly fighting the urge to burn everything down. in secret, they crave chaos, adventure, and destruction—but they suppress it. they hold their composure because they fear losing control. when they do explode, it’s sudden, shocking, loud. they put on the mask because they believe if they give in to their impulses, they’ll ruin everything they’ve built. but the more they suppress it, the more the fire inside them rages.
★ gemini rising | 12th house in taurus ★ — mask: the social butterfly | hidden self: the exhausted comfort-seeker
gemini rising moves like static electricity—talking fast, gesturing constantly, scanning the room for something interesting. they’re quick-witted, always ready with a joke, a story, a distraction. they adapt to any situation, blending into whatever social setting they land in. their laughter is infectious, their energy light, their presence never dull. they make life look effortless.
but in their 12th house, taurus lingers—slow, heavy, aching for stillness. when no one is looking, they collapse. they seek out sensory comforts—food, warmth, soft textures, things that don’t demand anything from them. they don’t admit how much they hate change, how exhausting it is to be constantly on. they put on the mask because if they slowed down, if they stopped performing, they might have to feel everything they’ve been avoiding. and feeling means facing the fact that deep down, they just want to rest.
★ cancer rising | 12th house in gemini ★ — mask: the nurturer | hidden self: the overthinker drowning in doubts
cancer rising moves with gentleness. their voice is soft, their touch light, their energy warm. they lean in when they listen, nodding as if they already understand. they make people feel safe, loved, seen. they give the kind of hugs that linger a second longer than expected. they look like they just know what you need, like they can feel everything.
but their 12th house is gemini—chaotic, overanalyzing, never quiet. their hidden self is a restless mind that won’t shut up, questioning every emotion they express. they replay conversations at night, dissecting what they said, how they said it, wondering if they should have said something else. they put on the mask because they don’t want people to see how much they doubt themselves. they fear that if others knew how unsure they really are, no one would trust them to be their safe space anymore.
★ leo rising | 12th house in cancer ★ — mask: the star | hidden self: the wounded child
leo rising owns the room. their posture is impeccable, their presence loud even when they’re silent. they walk like they know people are watching. their voice is confident, their smile magnetic, their energy warm and commanding. they make life look grand, dramatic, effortless—like they were born to shine.
but deep inside, cancer lingers in the 12th—a fragile, nostalgic, deeply emotional self they don’t show to anyone. when alone, they sit in dimly lit rooms, revisiting childhood wounds they pretend don’t exist. they crave comfort, familiarity, a home—but admitting that would make them feel small. they put on the mask because they hate feeling vulnerable. they fear that if people knew how much they need love, they wouldn’t be admired anymore. so they shine, they perform, and they never let anyone see the part of them that still aches to be held.
★ virgo rising | 12th house in leo ★ — mask: the perfectionist | hidden self: the performer
virgo rising moves carefully. their posture is straight, their movements precise, their expressions controlled. they speak in measured tones, never rushing, always aware of how they come across. they look competent, analytical, put-together. people assume they have everything figured out because they never let their guard down.
but their hidden self is desperate to be seen. leo in the 12th house craves recognition, attention, praise. when no one is around, they imagine standing in the spotlight, finally being noticed—not for their work, but for who they are. they put on the mask because admitting they want attention feels embarrassing, like a flaw. they act humble, downplay their needs, pretend they don’t care. but inside? they ache for applause. they secretly wish someone would tell them, you don’t have to be perfect to deserve love.
★ libra rising | 12th house in virgo ★ — mask: the charmer | hidden self: the self-critic drowning in expectations
libra rising moves gracefully, their body language open, their presence light, their smile perfectly timed. they speak in soft, diplomatic tones, never raising their voice, always keeping the atmosphere pleasant. they make sure everyone feels good, adapting effortlessly to whatever the social situation requires. their aesthetic is curated, their words thoughtful, their energy magnetic. they seem effortless, balanced, unbothered.
but deep in their 12th house, virgo lingers—whispering criticisms, analyzing every mistake, demanding more. their hidden self is never satisfied, always dissecting every interaction, every choice, every flaw. when alone, their mind turns against them, nitpicking details no one else even notices. they put on the mask because they fear that if people saw how insecure they really are, they’d lose the admiration they’ve worked so hard to earn. they maintain the illusion of perfection because deep down, they never feel good enough.
★ scorpio rising | 12th house in libra ★ — mask: the enigma | hidden self: the people-pleaser who fears rejection
scorpio rising moves with deliberation, their presence magnetic, their energy intense. they don’t say much at first, but when they do, their words land. their gaze is piercing, their body language controlled, as if they already know what everyone in the room is thinking. people assume they’re fearless, powerful, impossible to shake. they exude an aura of mystery, of someone who doesn’t need anyone.
but beneath the mask, libra in the 12th aches for connection. their hidden self is desperate to be liked, accepted, loved without conditions. they secretly care what people think, even though they pretend otherwise. they put on the mask because they hate feeling vulnerable. they test people’s loyalty not out of cruelty, but because they fear rejection so deeply, they’d rather push people away first than risk being left behind. they act like they don’t need love, but they crave it more than anything.
★ sagittarius rising | 12th house in scorpio ★ — mask: the free spirit | hidden self: the brooding obsessive
sagittarius rising moves big—big gestures, big laughs, big energy. they enter a room like they own it, carrying themselves with an infectious, carefree confidence. they joke, they flirt, they shift the mood effortlessly. they’re the ones who always have a crazy story, always moving, never staying in one place for too long. they make life seem like an endless adventure, as if nothing ever really gets to them.
but in their 12th house, scorpio lurks—deep, brooding, obsessive. their hidden self is intense, holding onto pain longer than they let on. while they act like they move on easily, they don’t. they replay betrayals, hold onto grudges, and secretly long for control. they put on the mask because they fear their own darkness. they run from it, avoid stillness, fill their lives with noise—because if they stop moving, the emotions they suppress might finally catch up to them.
★ capricorn rising | 12th house in sagittarius ★ — mask: the authority | hidden self: the runaway who wants to escape
capricorn rising moves with purpose. they stand tall, their energy serious, their demeanor composed. they walk like they have somewhere important to be, their presence demanding respect without needing to ask for it. they seem like they never get distracted, like they always have a plan, a goal, a strategy. they don’t waste time. they’re disciplined, hardworking, and in control.
but their hidden self? wants to run. sagittarius in the 12th is restless, aching for freedom, craving escape. deep down, they long to disappear, to abandon the weight of responsibility, to live without deadlines, expectations, or pressure. but they don’t. they can’t. they put on the mask because they believe they have to be the strong one, the one who holds everything together. they secretly fantasize about leaving it all behind, but they never do—because duty, in their mind, always comes before desire.
★ aquarius rising | 12th house in capricorn ★ — mask: the rebel | hidden self: the traditionalist afraid of failure
aquarius rising moves unpredictably. their energy is different, their presence unique. they don’t follow trends—they set them. their words are unconventional, their opinions strong. they challenge authority, break molds, question everything. people see them as independent, forward-thinking, impossible to box in. they walk into a room like they’re above the nonsense, unbothered by the expectations of others.
but in the shadows, capricorn rules their 12th house—structured, fearful of failure, secretly longing for approval. deep down, they want stability, respect, success. they judge themselves harshly, setting impossible standards they pretend don’t exist. they put on the mask because admitting they care about recognition, about legacy, feels like betraying their identity. they act detached, but in reality, they’re terrified of not measuring up. they rebel because they fear conformity, but deep down, they wonder if they’ll ever truly belong anywhere.
★ pisces rising | 12th house in aquarius ★ — mask: the empath | hidden self: the detached observer who never feels real
pisces rising moves softly. their energy is fluid, almost ethereal, like they’re not fully here. their voice is gentle, their touch light. they listen with their whole being, absorbing emotions like a sponge. they seem open, intuitive, deeply connected to the world. people feel safe with them, like they’re being seen in a way they never have before. their presence is healing, dreamlike, otherworldly.
but in their 12th house, aquarius disconnects. their hidden self watches life from a distance, intellectualizing emotions instead of feeling them. while they seem deeply in tune with others, they often feel like an outsider in their own life. they put on the mask because if they admitted how detached they truly feel, no one would trust them as the gentle, empathetic soul they’re known to be. they float between connection and isolation, never fully belonging in either.
★ book a reading ★ ★ masterlist 1 ★ ★ masterlist 2 ★
If you are a polytheist and are interested in incorporating ancient/Hellenistic astrology into your practice, these are the sources I recommend to get you started:
Project Hindsight: A group of scholarly astrologers got together in 1993 to translate ancient astrological texts. At that time, most ancient sources were still in Latin and had never been translated into English, and astrologers suspected that valuable astrological techniques had been lost. The project aimed to recover them. I am fairly sure the project isn’t currently active, but the website still has useful info.
The Astrology Podcast: Chris Brennan interviews astrologers from a wide range of perspectives, but he and co-host Austin Coppock both worked with Project Hindsight. Hosts Chris, Austin, and Kelly Surtees are all respected traditional astrologers, and there are episodes that cover ancient techniques like working with time lords and dignities and debilities.
Robert Hand, Western Classical Astrology (YouTube): This is a very long crash-course in how to do classical history and philosophy as it relates to astrology. It’s a bit like drinking out of a fire hose, but if you have the patience, I recommend it.
Demetra George, Ancient Astrology in Theory and Practice: I recommend this book for the overview of ancient astrology. It is also a good place to start if you have no knowledge of astrology whatsoever. (If you are a modern astrologer trying to pick up ancient techniques, I recommend Charles Obert’s work instead.)
Charles Obert, Introduction to Traditional Natal Astrology: This is the book I recommend for people with a background in modern astrology who want to incorporate classical techniques into their work. The first few chapters on ancient philosophy are must read for anyone wanting to do this work.
Chris Brennan, Hellenistic Astrology: The Study of Fate and Fortune: I haven’t read it yet, but I respect his scholarship.
I haven’t gotten into primary sources yet, but I see these works show up repeatedly in the things I’ve read:
can you all shut the fuck up for a minute and reconsider how constantly demanding normalization only retrenches the moral position that weird = bad?
like no you're not actually going to be able to normalize a lot of stuff, because it's statistically unusual or aberrant. you can't normalize shit that is not by any definition normal.
what you need to do is fucking stand up for the weirdos, freaks, and deviants, and remind everyone who is normal that their position just makes them normal. not good, not right, not correct, not better, not perfect, not beyond reproach or improvement.
being weird isn't bad. stop normalizing that, already.
Ok adding to this though that even though it is extremely relatable, this is a KNOWN thing with professional writing. 10k is often referred to as "having a pot boiling" or "having a stew" - it's the point where you often see an idea coming together and it's exciting! But THEN... 30k-50k is the point where that fun has to start coming together. In theatre, it's usually week 3 of a 5 week rehearsal period where you have to stop talking about the play and really get it all up on its feet and cohesive. In art, it's committing to what are going to be the final visible layers of colour and texture, in sculpture the moment where you're truly at the point of no return with carving out the shape.
It usually feels really bad. Because this is the point it becomes real craft. It's so, so difficult to really be able to identify if it's truly not going to be anything or you're just in the hardest part of the process, and really the only way to know is to... write through it. Write it badly. Or, if you really can't, put it in a drawer and come back to it after a few months of breathing space. Remember, you can fix so much in the edit, but you can't fix nothing!
(I say, fully looking at my latest draft of my book and considering throwing it in the bin. But my editor said exactly this to me, so I'm passing it along.)
this is 100% true. I've written 6 complete novels at this point and every single time around the 40k mark I feel lost in the woods. Nothing seems to be working. I feel awful; I can't sleep. I keep going even though I'm convinced I'm going to fail. And then... It's like leaving a tunnel and getting back out in the sunshine. Stuff starts coalescing. Things that weren't working have obvious fixes. I "can write" again, except I was writing the whole time. It just felt hopeless in the moment. It's not. You just gotta get out of the woods.
the purpose of friends is to have people who unconditionally hate your shitty exes & relatives. like maybe YOU have a complex relationship with your father but i sure don't. i'm outside his house with a gun. he's not the unforgivable asshole who raised me he's just an unforgivable asshole
Honestly, you don't need dating advice save for "just be yourself". If a guy isn't seduced by your extensive lecture about coealacanths, or a girl isn't impressed by you gaming the McDonald's systems to finesse yourself 30 free chicken nuggets, you're on a date with the wrong person. Not a bad person, but one that isn't the right match for you, and the way you want to live.
First dates are for showing someone "hey this is the kind of life I like to be living", them doing the same, until you find someone who clicks and you both think "fuck yeah I want to live like this." Whether that's sitting in a café judging joggers, or casually committing small crime for shits and giggles.
It's actually funny how humans decided "fuck living in caves with all these creepy crawlies", got out of caves, built houses that have all the nice parts of a cave without any of the yucky parts, and then all the little bugs and spiders and other creepy crawly creatures that used to also live in caves thought "sweet, new and improved caves" and moved right back in with us.
"save me, substance abuse!" i cry. before you can moralize to me about the dangers of addiction, a noble and powerful steed gallops into the room - my horse whom i have named "substance abuse". you learn an important lesson about making assumptions. i snort a line off its back
I hope we last. I hope we do. But if we don't, this is how I want you to remember me: Remember me happy, and all the ridiculous ways I tried to get your attention. Remember the way I was too stubborn to talk to you and how absolutely insane it drove the both of us.
when kafka said “all the love in the world is useless when there is total lack of understanding” and when richard siken said “if you love me, you don’t love me in a way I understand.”
