Hoboscopes

HOBOSCOPES

ARIES

Welcome, Aries, to another day on earth. Honestly, It’s about what you’d expect. There’s ducks and volcanoes and spreadsheets and more of everything than we need and less time than we’d like. And there’s you. My friend Aries. An island of energy and potential. I can see why you’re stressed out lately. There’s too much to know and no way to be certain of any of it. But this whole day on earth is here for you. And whatever slice of it you participate in during these 24 hours, it will be enough. Save a little bit of world for tomorrow.

TAURUS

Pretty much everybody I know is striving in the same direction. They’re looking for meaning in their work. They’re hoping to find connections that will make them feel heard and understood. They want to accomplish something that matters and gain fulfillment on the way. It’s possible this works out, Taurus. I still haven’t heard back from everybody. But trying so hard to get it right and to matter feels like an eternal process. Maybe you could set aside the striving for an hour or two. Just be where you are for a bit. Everything so far is already complete and you were a part of it. Look how much you accomplished just by staying still.

GEMINI

I tried planting cabbage again. It felt nice to get some seeds in the ground. But now there’s this one rabbit. I see him out there at dusk. Acting all cool. Sniffing the spot where the cabbage leaves will pop up from the soil any day now. Is he really just waiting it out? It feels like an unfair competition. Who’s going to win the cabbage? Everybody here knows the bunny is. A writer of amateur astrology versus a full-time, leaf-eating machine? I don’t stand a chance. Sometimes, Gemini, you have to plant things knowing that somebody else is going to reap the reward. Plant anyway.

CANCER

The Sunset was a little bit later last night. It was a nice one, too. Like a bunch of cotton candy getting passed around a campfire. It’s starting to feel like we made it through the darkest days, Cancer. Everything’s just a little milder. I know you don’t want to trust the ease of that, but what if it’s true?. If you don’t have to fight for survival today, lean into the ease. Put your to-do list down, and maybe watch the sunset. It’ll be just a little bit later tonight.

LEO

The world can be so crude and careless, Leo. Personally, I thought your drawing of the Apollo moon landing was an appropriately accurate representation of the event. All those people in the comments saying it looks like an alligator playing golf with an angel are just jealous. It’s a good day to create something new, Leo. And it’s a good day to ignore the haters.

VIRGO

I believe we’ve talked about this before, Virgo, but I’m always glad to go again. Let’s see…atoms bind together to make molecules. Molecules bind together to make, well, all sorts of things, including cells. Cells can work together to form an organ. Organs can combine in systems to make you. So are you just a collection of parts? A pile of atoms, hopes, guacamole, and anxiety configured just so? I think you’re more, Virgo. Sure, it can help to break it down to the parts. To think about your strengths and weaknesses, your desires and fears. But the whole you is always something more. Spend a little time today loving that whole you. Forget the parts and just look at that fantastic entirety.

LIBRA

We’ve all heard about the Trojan horse, Libra. A wooden colossus so large that you would have been to the horse as a fly to you. That slyest feat of the Greek army was first recounted by Aeneas to Queen Dido. He told how all the soldiers packed into that great equine box. Pushing together with all their soldierly grits and grimes, awaiting nightfall and their famous surprise sacking of Troy. Queen Dido was in disbelief when she heard the tale. And so am I Libra, in that I know the story is a myth. And Aeneas is a myth, and perhaps Dido herself. And so is the warning, Libra, to beware of gifts too great. Don’t be afraid this week. Invite it all inside.

SCORPIO

I cut my thumb while I was making us breakfast, Scorpio. Don’t worry, the eggs are cooked perfectly. And the grapefruit I was slicing smells delicious. And this paper towel seems to be slowing down the blood. And butter spreads better when you leave it out of the fridge for a few minutes, anyway. This looks like the best breakfast yet. I’ll bring it to the table as soon as I stop feeling so faint. Maybe I should cut my thumb everytime? No, that can’t be right, Scorpio. It may take some pain to create something beautiful. But it shouldn’t take an injury. Stand back from your creation for long enough to determine which one you’ve got.

SAGITTARIUS

Hope is a many-fingered thing, Sagittarius. It taps and snatches and pinches and pokes. It snaps at you when you’re too busy or distracted or drunk or alone. And it points to something you desperately need but can’t quite see through the fog. It knocks on the door without ever asking if it’s a good time to drop by. Hope wants to be let in, but like a vampire, it needs an invitation. As uncomfortable as hope can be, Sagittarius, I still recommend it. When you see it waving at the window, start by waving back.

CAPRICORN

I’m running away from home, Capricorn. I’ve got three peanut butter sandwiches, my tape measure, a butterfly net, and $8 in skee-ball tokens. That should get me over the wall and past the first checkpoint before I need a restock and a guide. Is this what it was like when you ran away, too? Were you scared? You’ve come such a long way and learned so much, Capricorn. Especially for having started with so many of the wrong things. Remember all the ways you adapted your inventory to get where you are. You’re going good places, Capricorn, but stay flexible. I’ll trade you two skee-ball tokens for that sunscreen.

AQUARIUS

Is that smoke out the window or fog, Aquarius? If it’s fog, well, that’s a beautiful inconvenience if you’ve got somewhere to be. But if it’s smoke, Aquarius, smoke might be a warning of something that needs quick management and clear thought. You’ve been staring out the window for a couple of minutes now, wondering which it is. I’d say stick your head out the front door and take a whiff. You’ll no pretty quickly what needs doing or not.

PISCES

I’ve been having dreams about killer whales. I mean, they aren’t killing anything in the dreams. They’re just, you know, orcas, but maybe extra-big ones? Anyway, Pisces, in the dreams I’m not scared of them, I’m just trying to see the whole big thing before it goes back into the water. And I’m trying to get you to look, too. I think it’s because you’re distracted, Pisces, with all the little things — I mean, in these dreams you are. And I look at you and it’s like there are billions of drops of water in the air on this boat — in the dream we’re on a boat — and you’re maybe trying to count the drops and you won’t look at this amazing, huge, miracle of a beast that’s disappearing into the ocean. Anyway Pisces, look up.

Mr. Mysterio is not a licensed astrologer, a trained whale-spotter, or a registered phalangaelist. Mr. Mysterio is, however, a budding intermediate podcaster! Check out The Mr. Mysterio Podcast. Season 2 is now playing at mrmysterio.com. Got a question, just give Mr. M a call at 707-VHS-TAN1