All in the name of Beija
So back in march we shot some underwear. So much…
I don’t know about you, but I like horoscopes.
Most of the time I’ll read through cosmo-scope (of which I’ve been a die hard fan since the age of 14 when it accurately predicted my crush would break my heart on a tuesday. Low and behold he had lunch with another girl) and silently nod my head along as it, in it’s vague diction, accurately describes my mundane week.
In reality the cosmic forces that let me wrap my self in content and weekly self-epiphany are a real life mad-libs. The very ambiguous choice of words they use and my die hard belief of the cosmos have blindly let me read a sentence like:
When venus enters retrograde someone in your life will do something and you will feel somehow about it.
Then interpret it as:
When venus enters retrograde your boss will compliment you on your work but it will make you feel more insecure about your skills.
and then continue to sit and read in awe and amazement, baffled in wonderment at how they know so much about me. *Que the jaw drop.
Even though it is my birthday month which draws me even more to rely on my horoscope to navigate my seven personalities and their mood swings I can still acknowledge their lack of scientific accuracy. Basing my addiction to the need of having someone else other than myself stroking my ego, it never occurred to me that believing in horoscopes is a two way street. One in which I feel happy about my self and the other in which I get dumped for being a Gemini. Throughout my collection of failed relationships I’ve never felt compromised in identifying myself as a Gemini. More so I thought it always gave my own character depth and complexity as the default characteristics of the star sign beautifully juxtapose my ever present social anxiety. From the get go, him studying to be a lawyer and my current demeanour of just floating through life, it was obvious our differences were vast yet I found his need to analyse everything entrancing. It was right after the third date when casually the conversation about superstitions and the cosmos came up. I explained my nonchalant take on the belief but how being a Gemini helps me like myself. This was followed by a long pause.. and then a long moment of silence. I shrugged it off and finished the date. On the walk home I got a friendly text explaining how he had had a nice time but he had to cancel the plans for our fourth date as he doesn’t want to waste my time. Baffled I started going through the three dates in my head trying to analyse what I had done wrong this time when he sent me another text saying ‘I hope you understand’ A link to a horoscope site showing the compatibility between a Sagittarius and a Gemini. It was 1%.
Not being able to help myself I dove head first into the article that in comparison to the nature of november born star sign dragged the name of the Gemini through the mud.
All of sudden what I had deemed carefree about myself was seen as flaky by others.
Being talkative was turned into a communication problem.
Being energetic was translated into being unfocused.
One by one each of the traits I had held dear was broken down and shone in a negative light. I kept on thinking ‘Clearly this article was written by someone who hates the month of may. Meaning most likely they hated puppies and fashion too’.
Noticing how my frustration had shifted from a guy dumping me because I was born in may to some person who had written in disgust about people born in May I realised how I was defending myself and my characteristics despite the fact that I didn’t have anyone else to back them up. It’s funny how out of bad habits and bad break-ups you can actually find out just how much you like yourself even if you don’t want anyone else to know you do.
Anyway here’s to the month of May! May it be filled with shitty dates, bad excuses and insulting truths from the cosmos.