Horoscopes for the irredeemable
The only astrology readings that come with free bags of loose meat
Haruspex. Astrologer. Empath. Since the age of 37, Joshua Chris Bouchard has felt a powerful intuitive connection to the spirit realm, and has dedicated his life to helping seekers find their way. Now, he has kindly offered to put his clairvoyant abilities at our disposal as Discordia’s resident soothsayer. Whether your questions pertain to love, work, creativity, or even the nature of existence, the Horoscopes of Josh hold the answers you seek.
SAGITTARIUS (November 22 to December 21)
Hey, Sagittarius, what’s up? You good? Yeah, I get it. Life is tough lately. Hey, listen, I’ve been meaning to talk to you. Me and the others have been talking, and we’ve voted. Like, not super formal, I don’t think, but we all agreed on this together. This is not easy to say. They also voted for me to tell you this. I drew the short stick, I guess, haha…Anyway, I guess this isn’t very funny. I shouldn’t be laughing. So, okay, this is coming from a well-meaning place, by the way. Really, it is. We all care about you very much. We all think this is for the best. We’re just trying to look out for you. Well, you had to hear about it at some time anyway. It’s sort of something that is obvious to everyone except you. That’s what makes this so difficult. It’s so hard because literally every single person you’ve interacted with knows about this thing, this very specific thing about you, and they’ve never forgotten about it, but you don’t know they know. What? Oh sure. But it’s true. Also, you have to promise me to not get mad. You have to remember that none of this is my fault. Don’t shoot the messenger, you know? Haha…Okay, well, here we go. Let’s sit down. I think it’s better if we’re sitting. Isn’t that much better? Are you ready? You are? Good, me too. Also, I’m sorry to do this on your birthday…
CAPRICORN (December 22 to January 19)
The ghost that haunts your body has told your secrets to your enemies. They have studied the weaknesses in your defenses. They inch closer with talons made of stone. The mirror never lies. How many times will it take before you have nothing left to give? Yeah, you tried love. You tried spewing your disgusting emotions all over the world. Blah blah blah fucking BLAH. You tried being dead inside. That warm burrow of your chest stuffed with gauze. Capricorn, it’s time to stop lying to yourself. Even when you’re right, you’re wrong. Time has nothing to do with you. Go on then: tell us your dreams of falling and never waking up.
AQUARIUS (January 20 to February 18)
What are you doing tonight?
What are you doing tonight?
What are you doing tonight?
What are you doing tonight?
What are you doing tonight?
What are you doing tonight?
What are you doing tonight?
What are you doing tonight?
PISCES (February 19 to March 20)
A delusion a day keeps the Doctor of Pain away. Sick fuck. Scum. Maggot sucker. Pain is an aleatoric fuck-song in the deepest hole dug on earth. Atonal machine melodies rammed into your skull. Concerts for losers. Sledgehammers gone mad in your head. You’ve done it again. Chopped wet cartilage. Forfeited hands over heavy eyes. Unidentified species of meat. Pisces, you can’t recognize your own hand in front of our face. It’s there, but not really there. It’s not your hand. It’s not even the world’s hand. Everything you thought you owned crushed like expired pills in the toilet bowl. Thinking is language all its own. Nothing but symbols.
ARIES (March 21 to April 19)
Even the weakest animals can adapt. Everything is coded in their blood. Endless instructions passed down from a hundred-billion generations.
Welcome to the puzzle factory.
TAURUS (April 20 to May 20)
HATE BOOKS THAT DISAGREE WITH YOU
SING OUT TO THE LOVELIES
NEVER FINISH
COMPARE YOURSELF TO OTHERS AS YOU SEE YOURSELF IN THEIR EYES
BE SELFISH
GO BROKE
BE HONEST ABOUT WHO YOU ARE
JEALOUSLY IS OKAY
DON’T BE ASHAMED
EAT EVERYTHING
DRINK MORE THAN EVERYTHING
GIVE YOURSELF A BREAK
YOU HAVEN’T DONE ANYTHING
YOU HAVEN’T EVEN BEEN BORN
HAVE NO FEAR
GEMINI (May 21 to June 20)
Your aesthetic is a buzzkill, Gemini. It kills the flora among you. Fruitflies tirelessly buzz around the coagulated sugar of your oversized scarves and puffy coats. But something is going to happen to you. Yes…you. You will win some unholy prize. You will cut down some faith. Mars will slice open its ribcage and gag Venus with its shrapnel. After careful consideration, you’ll sell out, and it’ll probably be worth it. Nothing ever lasts. Ruined, marooned, hopeless leaps from the precipice of your imagination. And then, when you least expect it, surprise: more of everything. The gift that keeps on killing. Atrophy is just a bonus.
CANCER (June 21 to July 22)
You’re getting sleepy now. You feel your body get heavier and heavier. Your legs feel like they’re a thousand pounds. You can no longer support your arms. Breathe, Cancer. Imagine that your eye lids are fixed with heavy weights. You cannot keep them open. 5…4…getting sleepier now. 3…2…your eyes are completely closed. You’re completely relaxed. And…1. You’re now asleep.
It’s so dark.
I can’t see where I am.
There’s a door.
There’s a mirror.
There…there’s something in the other room.
I can’t make it out.
Its head hits the ceiling.
Only…shadows, blackness, a stench.
It’s getting closer, but I can’t see it.
It’s howling at me.
I can’t move.
Footsteps, cracking, fire.
Where…where is it.
Closer! Closer!
It wants me.
It wants my body.
It wants to eat my soul.
LEO (July 23 to August 22)
SHUT THE FUCK UP
VIRGO (August 23 to September 22)
It’s okay, dear Virgo, you’ve done enough. Sacrifice after sacrifice. So much energy and power poured out onto the black soil of the earth. Everything you’ve given—taken and taken by inhuman ghosts that outnumber the living. They’re crawling all over you, eating your flesh, drinking your flood. How far will you go for others? Will you take away their pain? Will you let it kill you? Go down lightly and rest your weary head on the chains around your bed.
LIBRA (September 23 to October 22)
You devoured your siblings in the womb. Now they are part of you. Do you feel them squirming in your heart? Do you hear them whispering in your ears while you sleep? Show, don’t tell. Paint a mural with their blood. Their blood is your blood. There is no guilt. Not from you or them. They cannot feel anything anymore. As you go to live the rest of your life, Libra, what are you going to be? A signal fire in the cleared farm field of your body. Somebody to laugh at. Somebody to feel insignificant. There’s a lot more years left to regret. You better make the right choice. For you. For everyone. To honour the dead.
SCORPIO (October 24–November 21)
Blind. Ignorant. Bliss Pure relief. You’ve entered your holy sanctuary, Scorpio. Rolling around in muck like a happy pig. Singing to the angels above with their heads cut off. Blood is raining down on the holy kingdom of your longing. Too many things to put your eyes on, too many things to carry under your tired arms. The streets are covered in diamonds, cutting your jaw raw as you’re carried on all fours to the open pits of your houses. It’s a short leash. The shitting sky is by design. You are what you hate, and you eat what you love–a cannibal of emotion. Shut up and go to sleep. You’re spent and nobody can stand the sound of your voice anymore. Sing! Sing! Or die trying. A eulogy for everything you’ve never finished.
Joshua Chris Bouchard is the author of *Burn Diary* (2023, Buckrider Books), the lead singer of the band LINENS, and the editor of BAD DOG MAG. He lives in Toronto, Canada.Listen to the latest from LINENS on Bandcamp.






I'll admit that when I saw the headline, I almost skipped past--being that I abhor astrology. But this was a gem. And yes, Leo:, shut the fuck up already.
Hallelujah i missed these