🜇 Your Sign’s Soul Cartography: Sex and Mortality (July 13–20)
This isn’t for the young. Although, 75 year olds will often tell me that I’m still a baby. I can’t express how good it feels being told that. For real.
This is for us. The middle-aged. The ones counting years left instead of years ahead. The ones feeling it in our knees, backs, and various joints. The ones wondering what we’ll do with what’s left. Because we’re still certain we’re as baddassed as ever. And we probably are.
This is about sex that isn’t performative. About wanting what you actually want, even as you age out of easy desirability.
This is about mortality. About the real deadline. About not wasting time pretending you don’t want, need, hunger, ache. If you’re looking for comfort, stop now.
If you want to look at yourself without excuses, keep on reading, darling. Oh, yes.
♈ ARIES – The Confronter (March 21 – April 19)
Emoji/Sigil: 🜔 (Unbound flame, symbol of naked will)
The Illuminatrix orders you to stop lying. Aries is the first sign because it refuses to wait its turn. Shame has tried to train you to be agreeable, careful, polite. It taught you to keep your appetite private, to make your threats sound like jokes.
Psychoanalysis names your aggression a survival instinct. Civilization calls it criminal. You learned to keep your teeth covered with a smile. But wanting isn’t wrong. Rage isn’t wrong. Pretending is the real betrayal.
Your work this week is to confront the truth you’ve been rehearsing how to soften. To admit what you would do if you let yourself. This isn’t catharsis, my love. It’s clarity.
Prediction
This week you will feel the edge of your own words. You will notice what you hold back. That’s because something big is going to happen that you will feel inclined to hold back your feelings on. You will see how your restraint curdles into contempt. Don’t look away.
Soul Work
Write the words you’re afraid will end things. The statement you’d never risk saying aloud to a certain person. Speak those words, even alone. Let yourself hear the exact threat, the promise, the want. Don’t rewrite it. Don’t justify it. Act out the actual dialogue with the person (playing both roles) as you want it to go.
Journaling Prompts
What truth do you keep hidden to maintain control?
Who benefits from your silence?
How does holding back keep you safe?
What would you admit if you couldn’t lose?
🜔 ARIES – The Confronter
Your work is not to be good.
Your work is to be honest.
Your work is to say it exactly as it is.
And live with what it means.
♉ TAURUS – The Body (April 20 – May 20)
Emoji/Sigil: 🜃 (Broken earth, raw hunger)
The Illuminatrix orders you to stop lying about your own flesh. You act clean while you hate how greedy you are. Shame trained you to starve yourself, to call that virtue.
Psychoanalysis knows your hunger isn’t clean. It’s animal. You want to lick, chew, take, own. But you punish yourself with performance. You pretend restraint is moral when it’s just fear of being seen wanting too much.
Your work this week is to admit what you crave without trying to make it sound noble. To say the obscene truth of wanting. This isn’t discipline. It’s surrender.
Prediction
This week expect your mouth to water for what you swore you didn’t need. Expect your body to betray you with hunger. Expect thoughts you’re embarrassed to write down. Your animal instinct is pushing you towards something you have been denying. Can you let yourself go? Should you?
Soul Work
Write what you want so badly it feels filthy. Say it out loud. Don’t soften it. Don’t justify it. Admit you want it enough to take it. Be Robert DeNiro talking to himself in the mirror.
Journaling Prompts
What would you gorge on if no one was watching and there was no consequence?
Who do you envy for having what you want?
Do you ever fake modesty while wanting more?
What would you grab if you could never be punished?
🜃 TAURUS – The Body
Your work is not to restrain.
Your work is to confess.
Your work is to admit the hunger you call shame.
And see if you can live with wanting.
♊ GEMINI – The Confessor (May 21 – June 20)
Emoji/Sigil: 🜁 (Split air, double-tongued truth)
The Illuminatrix orders you to stop lying in sentences that sound true. Gemini lives by language but uses it to escape. You know exactly how to say enough to sound honest without ever confessing anything real.
Your shame is not that you lie. It’s that you’re good at it. Psychoanalysis calls this splitting: selling fragments of yourself that feel safe. You perform vulnerability so no one will notice you’re withholding the worst parts.
You seduce with words so they won’t demand your truth. You enjoy the power of never being pinned down. That’s what you need to admit. Your work this week is to say the words that would end your performance. The ones that prove you’re not the story you keep rehearsing.
That means not your usual boring chit-chat and conversation. It’s exposure.
Prediction
Expect your mouth to betray you this week. Expect someone to catch you mid-lie. Don’t correct it. Let it ruin you. Or, rather, let them call you out on it and let the chips fall where they may. If they don’t call you out, then admit to the lie. See what happens.
Soul Work
Write the truth that would make them leave. The sentences that person can never hear but that you think about all the time. Sayh the words out loud. Hear your real voice. Don’t soften it. Don’t dress it up.
Journaling Prompts
What truth would make them hate you?
When did you last lie about wanting someone?
How do you disguise cruelty as humor?
Who are you when there’s no one to applaud?
🜁 GEMINI – The Confessor
Your work is not to be liked.
Your work is not to be clever.
Your work is to speak the thing that costs you love.
And not take it back.
♋ CANCER – The Child (June 21 – July 22)
Emoji/Sigil: 🜄 (Cracked water, spilled want)
The Illuminatrix sees the child you still are. The one who would crawl to be held. You learned your hunger for love was disgusting. That crying was blackmail. That wanting made you weak.
Psychoanalysis knows your shame lives in the deal you made. Be quiet and you’ll be fed. Be small and you won’t be abandoned. You called that love.
Your shame is that you still want it. You want to be cradled. Controlled. Promised. You want the safety so badly you’d beg for it. It makes you wet. It makes you hard. That’s the part you won’t admit.
Your work this week is to confess that need. To say the words you swallowed. This isn’t healing. It’s remembering exactly what you’d do to feel wanted.
Prediction
Expect to whine this week. Expect your voice to crack. Expect to plead without meaning to. Expect to disgust yourself with how badly you want to be reassured.
Soul Work
Write the words you’d say on your knees if it meant they wouldn’t leave. Speak them. Don’t clean them up. Don’t pretend you’re strong. If they threatened to leave you right now, what would you say? How would you truly feel?
Journaling Prompts
What would you beg for on your knees?
When did you pretend you didn’t care but you really cared deeply?
How do you punish others for not reading your mind?
Who do you want to belong to completely?
🜄 CANCER – The Child
Your work is not to be grown.
Your work is not to be hard.
Your work is to admit the needy, hungry thing you still are.
And say it without pretending it's pretty.
♌ LEO – The Crown (July 23 – August 22)
Emoji/Sigil: 🜂 (Faded crown, cracked pride)
The Illuminatrix isn’t here to feed your ego.
You’ve spent your life being the one people watch. The one with the story. The one who knows how to fill a room and own the moment.
You learned young that being wanted was safety. That charm was survival. That if you kept them laughing or wanting you, they couldn’t leave you.
Psychoanalysis knows the truth: you need the gaze. You need the proof. You want them to ache for you because you’re terrified of being replaceable.
Your shame is that it’s harder now. The lines on your face. The knees that complain. The worry that your best stories are old. That someone younger is saying all the right lines you used to say.
You don’t just want attention. You want to feel irreplaceable. You want to see them lose composure for you. You want that rush that says you still matter.
Your work this week is to admit how much you’ll do to get that reaction. How you test them. How you stir drama. How you provoke just to see who still wants you enough to stay.
This isn’t about learning humility.
It’s about being honest about the cost of needing to be desired.
Prediction
Expect to push buttons just to see who reacts.
Expect to drop compliments that are really tests.
Expect to feel the sting when someone ignores you.
Expect to want them more for it.
Expect to wonder who would still want you if you stopped performing.
Soul Work
Write down the name of the one you can’t stop wanting. Spell out exactly what you want from them. Say it out loud without dressing it up.
Journaling Prompts
What would you do to get them to want you again?
What part of yourself do you sell to feel desired?
Who do you try to make jealous?
When did someone last want you for exactly who you are?
If you could have anything or anyone all day and night without consequence, who or what would it be?
🜂 LEO – The Crown
Your work is not to hold the spotlight forever.
Your work is to see what’s left when the lights go out.
And admit what you still want anyway.
♍ VIRGO – The Purifier (August 23 – September 22)
Emoji/Sigil: 🜏 (Cut earth, dissected to expose rot)
The Illuminatrix doesn’t want the lie of clean hands. She wants to see what you hide under your nails.
You scrub surfaces because you know you’ve smeared yourself on them. With acrid sweat. With cum - gential juices. Fear. You polish the world so no one sees you leaking.
Psychoanalysis says you hate what you want most. You dry-heave at wanting it. You’d lick it if they ordered you. You want them scrubbed raw so you can spit on them. You want to see them shiver and know you'd shiver harder if they spat back.
Your shame is that precision is your fetish. That you want them lined up like specimens. That you want to catalogue every sob. That you need them to break so you can punish them. That you want them to forgive you for making them crawl.
Your work this week is to confess exactly how you’d tell them to kneel. How you'd watch them shake while you inspected them. Admit you’d sob if they did it to you.
This isn’t discipline. This is your true scripture.
Prediction
Expect your fingers to shake when they obey. Expect your cunt to slick. Your cock to twitch. Expect your throat to tighten at the thought of them filthy with you. Feel your disgust harden into hunger. Someone is going to ignite that want and need to a new level this week. Are you ready?
Soul Work
Write how you’d instruct them to kneel and open for you. How you’d praise them while you violated them. Confess you’d cry if they reversed it. Say it out loud. Don’t make it beautiful.
Don’t make it forgivable.
Journaling Prompts
Who would you make beg for approval while you used them?
How would you describe what you'd smear on them?
How would you punish them for making you want it?
How would you want them to whisper thank you while they sobbed?
🜏 VIRGO – The Purifier
Your work is not to cleanse.
Your work is not to perfect.
Your work is to admit you want them spotless so you can ruin them.
And to want them to ruin you back.
♎ LIBRA – The Mirror (September 23 – October 22)
Emoji/Sigil: ⚖️ (Cracked scale, truth outweighing seduction)
The Illuminatrix is not here to reward you for being smooth.
You’ve spent most of your life learning how to be easy to want.
You know how to read a room.
You know how to say the thing that keeps them close.
You learned to make compromise look generous.
You learned to give ground before they asked.
You called it balance. You called it fairness. But you know what it really is. It’s fear of being left. It’s making sure they choose you by giving them nothing to reject.
That worked when you were young. When a smile was enough. When the body was enough. When the game felt fun.
Now you’re older. You see what it costs. Intimacy that never hits the bone. Desire that fades when they realize you don’t ask for anything real. Partnerships that stall because neither of you will say the truth.
You have maybe 25 good years left.
You don’t have time to keep selling the edited version of yourself.
You want to be wanted for what you actually want. Not for how polite you are about wanting it. Not for how easy you make it for them to stay.
If you’re honest, you’re angry about it. Angry at them for taking what you offered so easily. Angry at yourself for never saying no. For wanting to be the good one instead of the real one.
This is the work:
You can keep making it smooth and safe. Or you can risk them seeing you want too much.
Because if you don’t, you’re not going to be chosen for who you are. You’ll be tolerated for what you offer. And you’ll know it.
Prediction
You’ll feel the habit kick in this week. The moment you sense rejection, you’ll soften it. You’ll hear yourself offering less before they even ask. They’ll see it even if they don’t say it. Your work isn’t to win them over. Your work is to see it happen in real time. And decide if you want to keep doing it.
Soul Work
This isn’t about daydreaming. It’s about practice. Get a journal.
Write down exactly what you want from them. Not the polite version. Not the safe version. The one that feels greedy. The one that risks them walking.
Say it out loud.
Train yourself to hear it.
So you can actually say it when it matters.
Questions
Who have you let fuck you just so you’d feel chosen?
What would you ask for if you weren’t afraid they’d leave?
How have you made surrender look noble instead of real?
Who would you keep on the hook instead of admitting you need them?
If you have 25 good years left, what are you done lying about?
⚖️ LIBRA – The Mirror
Your work is not to balance.
Your work is not to please.
Your work is to say what you really want.
Even if it makes them pause.
Even if it costs you the safety you’ve been selling your whole life.
♐ SAGITTARIUS – The Preacher (November 22 – December 21)
Emoji/Sigil: 🏹 (Barbed arrow, truth that penetrates and tears)
The Illuminatrix orders you to shut your holy mouth and show them what you taste like inside.
You jerk off on your own words. You make them swallow your wisdom so they don’t see you gag on want. You perform truth so you can top them. You call it honesty while you make them crawl for your approval.
Your shame is that you’re a coward. You brandish freedom so you never have to stay. You avoid cages, but you’re really avoiding witnesses. You're terrified of the one who’d spit your sermon back at you and make you choke on it.
Psychoanalysis says you crave the cell with no exits. The body pressed against yours demanding you say it while you sob. You want the brutal intimacy of someone who’ll hear your begging and not let you go.
Your work this week is to confess you don’t want open roads if it means dying alone. To admit you want someone to make you stay, to hold you down until you spit out the truth you’ve always cleaned up.
This isn’t teaching. It’s surrender.
Prediction
Expect to spit out confessions you can’t take back. Expect them to laugh while you tremble. Expect your voice to crack while you call it clarity. Expect their hand at your throat forcing the truth out while you moan.
Soul Work
Write the truth you’d only say if they pinned you down. The words you’d scream if they wouldn’t let you lie. Say them until your voice breaks. Don’t make it wise. Don’t make it safe.
Journaling Prompts
Who would you let trap you with their body?
What would you beg for if they wouldn’t let you run?
How do you hide cruelty behind your sermons?
What would you confess if they promised not to let you go?
🏹 SAGITTARIUS – The Preacher
Your work is not to instruct.
Your work is not to roam.
Your work is to admit you want someone to keep you.
And to want them even when they make you cry for it.
♑ CAPRICORN – The Architect (December 22 – January 19)
Emoji/Sigil: 🜖 (Severed peak, the summit that fractures under weight)
The Illuminatrix doesn’t want your empire. She wants the crawlspace crusted with fear and old come where you hide your hunger.
You act like refusing yourself is holy. Like starving is noble. Like being hard means you're pure. But it's just worship of your own cage. It's prayer to the god of rejection so it spares you.
Your shame is you get hard making them tremble. You want to watch them sob while they thank you for the privilege. But worse—you want someone to do it to you. To ruin you so completely you can’t pretend you’re in charge.
Psychoanalysis says your superego is the voice that calls you worthless while you grind yourself to dust. The voice you want them to echo while they fuck you to tears. Your real fantasy isn’t ruling. It’s being property. Used. Taken apart. Made to beg for the bruises to prove it happened.
Your work this week is to admit you don’t want to be respected if it means never being owned. To confess you want someone to collapse your fortress and make you crawl for the right to stay there.
This isn’t legacy. It’s surrender.
Prediction
Expect your hands to shake signing orders. Expect your cunt to ache. Your cock to leak. Expect them to see the lie in your composure. Expect to want someone who'll call you out and make you sob for it.
Soul Work
Write what you'd sob if they had you by the throat. The words you'd choke out if they made you crawl. Say them out loud. Don’t make them beautiful. Don’t make them forgivable.
Journaling Prompts
Who would you kneel for if they ordered you?
How would you want them to degrade you for lying about wanting it?
What punishment would prove you were theirs?
How would you beg them not to let you be strong?
🜖 CAPRICORN – The Architect
Your work is not to build.
Your work is not to rule.
Your work is to admit you want to be ruined.
And to beg them to never let you rebuild.
♒ AQUARIUS – The Liberator (January 20 – February 18)
Emoji/Sigil: 🜍 (Shattered vessel, spilling what it can’t contain)
The Illuminatrix doesn’t want your sterile genius. She wants the raw, filthy ache you exile behind your eyes.
You call it freedom so they won’t smell your panic sweat when they get too close. You perform untouchable so they won’t see you shaking with want. You sneer at need. You call them pathetic for wanting what you jerk off pretending you don’t. You spit at their hunger so you don’t gag on your own.
Psychoanalysis says your distance is a lie. It’s terror in drag. The terror of someone who might hold you so tight you can’t lie about wanting it anymore. Your shame is you want to be taken. Owned. Forced to stay. You want them to lock the door and throw away the key while you sob that you hate it, even as you rut against their thigh.
Your real fantasy isn’t freedom. It’s the collar you can’t slip. The leash that burns your throat while you moan for them not to let go.
Your work this week is to admit you don’t want to be above it if it means being alone. To confess you want the one who’ll demand that you “stay” and make you beg to obey.
This ain’t liberation. It’s exposure.
Prediction
Expect your eyes to water when they say they’re not leaving. Expect your voice to crack begging them to stay while you hate that it turns you on. Expect to want them more for refusing to let you escape.
Soul Work
Write what you'd whimper if they pinned you and refused to let you bolt. The plea that makes you sound pathetic, owned. Say it until you hate how much you mean it. Jerk off while you do it if it makes you feel better. (It will, I promise.)
Journaling Prompts
Who would you crawl back to if they snapped their fingers?
How do you make love look stupid so you don’t have to admit wanting it?
What would you beg them to do if they promised never to let you run?
How would you want them to laugh while you sobbed that you need them?
🜍 AQUARIUS – The Liberator
Your work is not to escape.
Your work is not to transcend.
Your work is to admit you want to be caught.
And to want them even more for never letting you go.
♓ PISCES – The Dissolver (February 19 – March 20)
Emoji/Sigil: 🜄 (Overflowing cup, leaking what can’t be contained)
The Illuminatrix doesn’t want your pathetic love songs. She wants the stain you leave on the sheets when you whimper for them to stay.
You make your need look holy so they’ll swallow it. You want to be the drug they can’t quit, even while you rot them from the inside. Your shame is you want to be swallowed whole. To be fucked until your name means nothing but “please.” To be taken so deep you can’t tell where you end and they begin.
Psychoanalysis knows you perform surrender so they’ll think they’re in control. You want them to blame you for making them ruin you.
You get off on being the spit they swallow, the fever that makes them sweat. The infection they can’t cure without killing you. But you’re terrified they’ll taste your decay and spit you out. That they’ll see you hollow and refuse to fill you.
Your real fantasy isn’t love. It’s obliteration. It’s becoming unrecognizable after they’re done. It’s sobbing I’m yours with your face pressed to the floor while you hate them for making you mean it.
Your work this week is to admit you don’t want devotion if it’s clean. To confess you want someone to use you until you forget you ever tried to stay whole.
This isn’t romance. It’s confession.
Prediction
Expect your thighs to shake when they pin you (literally or metaphorically - could be during a solo masturbation session. Expect to drip while you curse them for seeing you beg. Expect to want them more for refusing to let you disappear into your lies.
Residual feelings from old, dead relationships resurface this week. This means you need to look at what’s plaguing you enough right now that you miss the bad old days.
Soul Work
Write the words you'd tell that old, dead relationship now, begging them to finish whatever it is that still lingers for you. Say it out loud until it makes you want to vomit. And face what is really going on with you in the moment. Loneliness is part of the problem.
Journaling Prompts
Who would you let ruin you if they promised to stay?
How do you seduce them into taking everything?
What would you beg them to do while you cried that you hated them for it?
How would you make them promise not to leave even as they broke you?
🜄 PISCES – The Dissolver
Your work is not to romanticize.
Your work is not to transcend.
Your work is to admit you want to be destroyed.
And to want them even more for not letting you survive it.
