Read your horoscope from State-Run

Aries — Ma called asking for you again. Her typically honeyed tone was noticeably somber this time. “Pappy died,” she had said, voice hushed, “and I’m left alone with the farm, the cows and the rejected Muppet designs who toil our soil for low wages. The Hill People took him.” Woah, Aries, sounds like some interpersonal, familial conflict is in your life right now alongside a vengeance character arc—if your semester has enough time for all that, of course.

Taurus — This week, the Ancient Egyptian sun god Ra weighs your heart on a scale with a feather and decides the weight of your sins. Lay out your offerings.

Gemini — An antagonist will enter your life this week, but do not despair, Gemini! Your new nemesis, likely hired as your assistant, will be a gay-coded villain who will say omnious statements about the weather as his brutish lackeys skip and dance around him during his cardio-intensive ballad performance. You can dodge any devious schemes by listening to his simplistic lyrics about, like, the concept of birthright.

Cancer — Are you sure you thoroughly shook that blanket from the attic? You missed some creepy crawlies; they’re there, hanging by a thread. They’re unionizing.

Leo — The tickings of time close in more and more, don’t they, Leo? Can’t you feel its fiery tendrils licking at your thoughts? You’re running out of these precious moments.

Virgo — Find another collegiate newspaper to sully, you coward.

Libra — Haters will see a boy succeed and try to bring him down to their level. Not this week. #boygrind

Scorpio — You have all the trappings of a sexy week ahead of you, Scorpio. Get out those rose petals and sweet-smelling candles! After your romantic tryst, try to analyze why you chase temporary buzzes like lust instead of spending an evening alone with yourself.

Sagittarius — A gritty, hearth-warming friendship awaits you. You both avoid eye contact as you tie your horse’s reins. Your hands brush when they hand you a drink, that brief contact warming you much more than any heedy liquor. Companion. You test that word, softly saying it to yourself. Friend.
Capricorn — This week will teach you the meaning of loss. Someone will take the seat you have sat at for the past four weeks, and there’s nothing you can do about it.

Aquarius — Ah! Du bringst mir einen Snack?

Pisces — You will write for the Collegian. Please. We are begging you.

Post Author: Anna Johns