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December 2019
By Brook Bhagat
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Capricorn (December 22 - January 20)
Religion is the untapped power you have been looking for in your life. For example, no one appreciates it now when you hide behind the bushes and throw gummy bears at them, but if it was part of your religion, not only would do you get to do it, but you could probably get a day off work to do it all day long. This month, you will start a new religion called “Candyism” dedicated exclusively to playing Candy Crush and throwing gummy bears at pedestrians. Candyism will pass up all the other world religions within a month or so, which will anger the Flying Spaghetti Monster greatly. Watch your back—that guy’s got connections.
Aquarius (January 21 - February 18)
Gautam the Buddha once said, “In the sky, there is no distinction of east and west; people create distinctions out of their own minds and then believe them to be true.” Remembering these words and letting them sink into your heart: very wise. Quoting them to the IRS guy when asked for directions to your house: not so much.
Pisces (February 19 - March 20)
Did you ever see The Karate Kid, where Ralph Macchio thinks the old man is just using him when he makes him wash cars all day long, but then it turns out to be a mysterious method for training him in karate? You should find somebody like that to wash your car.
Aries (March 21 - April 19)
The divine is inseparable from the mundane, and the wisdom you seek is not hiding in scriptures or dusty old books but is right in front of you if you know how to look. For example, have you ever noticed how that owl in Candy Crush Dreamtime—Odus is his name, I think—can go from panicking madly to sleeping soundly in the blink of an eye? Keep meditating, and this could be you!
Taurus (April 20 - May 20)
Everyone loves a good pun, but there is a time and a place for it, as you will learn the hard way after sending your uncle, who is in the hospital with kidney stones, a get-well-soon-card in which you have written, “Don’t worry—this too shall pass.”
Gemini (May 21 - June 20)
At first, it will seem like bad luck when you come home from a short hike in the mountains with a severe poison ivy rash on most of your body. However, thanks to your inability to scratch discretely at the grocery store and the proliferation of video-recording smartphones, you will become a Youtube superstar overnight, ushering in a dance craze which will be known as “Bootyscratch Fever.” For a while, it will be difficult to go out in public without being instantly recognized as “the O.B.” (original bootyscratcher) and asked for autographs, but eventually you will end up with your own album and a product line of scented calamine lotions. Good times!
Cancer (June 21 - July 22)
Don’t feel selfish about taking some time out for yourself. In your case, this is probably the most important thing you can do for the safety of everyone in the house.
Leo (July 23 - August 22)
Noticing the popularity of internet quizzes like “What color is your aura?” or “What superhero are you?”, which appeal to supermarket spirituality, delusions of grandeur and social media hypnosis, you theorize that there must also be a big market for more down-to-earth quizzes, and invest your life savings in a company which creates quizzes like “What kind of mold is in your fridge?” and “How will you probably die?” Unfortunately for you, no one really wants to know.
Virgo (August 23 - September 22)
This month, a squirrel will steal your burrito. Let it go, friend. Just let it go.
Libra (September 22 - October 22)
Good news! This month, in a bizarre event involving hiding under the covers with an etch-a-sketch, a can of Diet Dr. Pepper and a few unstable molecules, you accidentally invent a sticky but functional invisibility cloak. This works out great for a while, and you do pretty well in the petty theft arena, but the problem of the cloak evaporating unexpectedly leaves you one too many times stark naked with your paws in the cash register at Family Dollar, and after a brief prison sentence you vow to go back to college and major in astrochemistry so you can perfect the cloak and take over the world. There’s a good chance you’ll change your major halfway through, however, and end up a paralegal with massive student loan debt. Either way, you’ll be better off than you are now, though, and get some really cool new facial tattoos.
Scorpio (October 23 - November 21)
You are becoming more and more attractive in your social media selfies, thanks to lots of hard work and practice. Your experiments with stage makeup, low lighting and various camera angles (from above and a little to the right seems to be best) are really paying off, and you are getting lots of “likes” and even an increasing number of comments like “great pic” or “pm me hot stuf.” The only downside to this is that, later this month, you will be kidnapped by a human trafficking ring, and although you will actually see some of the folks from your “friend list” through the back window of a van and call out to them, they won’t recognize you.
Sagittarius (November 22 - December 21)
Financial troubles may seem worrisome this month, but keep your chin up. Your luck will change suddenly when you touch a magic chicken, light brown with a bluish aura, who is eating Cheetos off the ground at the gas station. You turn around at the honk of a horn, and when you turn back, the chicken is gone and so are all the Cheetos but one. Sheepishly, amidst sideways glances from onlookers, yet driven by a mysterious force beyond your comprehension, you are compelled to grab the dayglo-orange morsel and swallow it whole. That night, the chicken comes to you in your dreams, wearing the most elegant belly-dancing costume you’ve ever seen and a purple amethyst jewel on her third eye. She stares straight into your soul, shimmying and switching her feathery little hips until you are hypnotized. A feeling of deep eternal ease, akin to laughter but without even a ripple of movement, settles into the core of your being, and you can see clearly the futility of all desire and anguish. The akashic wisdom of the ages enters you, and you realize that not only are you no longer capable of suffering, but that all your suffering, from the last ten thousand lifetimes, has been an illusion, a meaningless garment that you wore needlessly, not realizing that it was not a part of you. The rest of your life will be an extension of the joy that you have become, and instead of speaking, a gentle laughter will float from your lips every time you open your mouth, which you will find hilarious. Your finances will remain about the same, but that won’t bother you anymore.
About the author
Brook Bhagat’s poetry, fiction, non-fiction, and humor have appeared in Monkeybicycle, Empty Mirror Magazine, Anthem: A Tribute to Leonard Cohen, and other journals and anthologies. She and her husband Gaurav created Blue Planet Journal, which she edits and writes for. She teaches creative writing at a community college. Her poetry collection, Only Flying, is due out Nov. 16, 2021 from Unsolicited Press. See more at Brook Bhagat or reach her on Twitter.
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