Taurus (April 20-May 20): This horoscope offers you nuts-and-bolts advice on how to have a very pragmatic mystical experience that may lead to big bucks and dumb luck and invitations to cool potlucks and other wonder-struck experiences that rhyme with "pluck." Here goes: Cut off a lock of your own hair and wrap it in red paper on which you've written, "I want to attract a divine nudge that will bring me greater understanding about my most confounding personal puzzle." Put this under your mattress for five nights. On the sixth night, burn the paper in the flame of a white candle as you murmur, "I love how my mystery mystifies me."
Gemini (May 21-June 20): Today during meditation I had a vision of you in a prison cell as big as your bedroom. You were scratching out messages on toilet paper using blood you'd pricked from your fingers with a dull safety pin. In yesterday's meditation I got a psychic impression of you languishing in the desert, now and then tracing giant letters in the sand with your feet in the hope of attracting the attention of airplanes passing overhead. In both my visions, Gemini, your communications were in vain, and I've felt guilty as hell for seeing you that way. That's why beginning immediately, I'm visualizing an image of you speaking your mind with lucid, forceful precision to everyone you meet.
Cancer (June 21-July 22): I won't be surprised if you have a blind yearning to devour every food you see in the coming week. Even in normal times, your chronic fear of scarcity threatens to drive you to bloated excess. And given the fact that your current astrological aspects are intensifying your urges to acquire and amass and enlarge, your hunger could drive you to prodigious engorgements. Still, there's reason to hope you can sublimate your expansive instincts into more constructive projects. How about adding a room onto your house or blowing up a hundred balloons for a kid's party or opening your heart to way, way more love?
Leo (July 23-Aug. 22): I predict that the gray aliens will refrain from implanting a tiny crystal in your pineal gland this week. You will not recall a painful memory of a past life, nor will you try to cast a spell on an old tormentor. No, Leo, the weird blips that arrive in the coming days will mostly be tonic and will probably unfold in the most normal of circumstances. You'll discover a phenomenon I call "high-quality boredom," for example. You may also blunder upon a curious solution to a small problem that has annoyed you for eons. If you're nicer and more polite than usual, you could even attract a compact little bolt of "accidental" justice.
Virgo (Aug. 23-Sept. 22): For your creative writing assignment this week, choose from the following topics: "How I Used My Nightmares to Become Rich and Famous" ... "How I Exploited My Problems to Become Sassy and Savvy" ... "How I Fed and Fed and Fed My Monsters Until They Ate Themselves to Death" ... "How I Turned Envy, Resentment, and Smoldering Anger Into Generosity, Compassion, and Fiery Success." Send your stories, essays, or poems to: The Psychic Judge, PO Box 761, Petaluma, CA 94953.
Libra (Sept. 23-Oct. 22): Visualize a fantasy, Libra, that would thrill you to the core if you only had the guts to act it out. Allow your imagination to dwell on this dreamy scenario at length, experiencing in detail all the surprising events and feelings you've felt too inhibited to entertain up until now. Give your deep mind license to unleash all the tabooed images of pleasure and freedom. No doubt you'll have to blast through worries about being egotistical and undignified and messy. That's good. That's righteous. If you do it correctly, with all your wild heart, this exercise will lead you to a lucid state of divine selfishness.
Scorpio (Oct. 23-Nov. 21): At this tantalizing juncture in your life cycle, some astrologers might advise you on how to bulldoze the opposition, lay waste to all facts that don't fit your theories, and seize enough new territory to appease your conquistadorish ego. But I'd prefer to see you make a wish upon a star, Scorpio, not a scar. So in the next few weeks I'll be sneaking you subliminal lessons from my course titled "Mind Control for the Sensitive, Caring Power-Tripper." It'll pump up your lust for absolute power ... over yourself.
Sagittarius (Nov. 22-Dec. 21): Dear Teeth-Shaking, Bun-Toasting Flash of Liquid Lightning: I dreamed you finally revealed your secret identity after all these years -- you know, about how you came from the planet Lovemania in order to teach all Earthlings how to feel horny for clouds, trees, tigers, and even the ocean itself! Is my dream true? Please say it is! Tell me you're really ready to drop your overly respectable pose so that you may spread erotic healing throughout the land! Dare to become the sublimely lustful worshiper of beauty and truth you were born to be!
Capricorn (Dec. 22-Jan. 19): It would be most beneficial to our mental health if we could perform the psychic equivalent of what the cobra does: shed its skin every four to five weeks. Flushing away our old self-images on such a regular basis would keep us attuned to the constant barrage of gifts the gods try to shove in front of us -- but which most of the time we're too stuck in the past to see. Alas, only the most beatific adventurers (who also don't have kids, spouses, and demanding jobs) can manage such a heroic commitment to change. Having said all those discouraging words, though, Capricorn, I'm pleased to announce that you could very well pull off two cathartic moltings in the next four weeks.
Aquarius (Jan. 20-Feb. 18): Aquarius, do not put anything remotely approaching the following text into a personal ad anytime soon: "Seeking lazy, lard-ass, butt-ugly braggart with nothing to say but a habit of running off at the mouth. Must be able to belch the William Tell Overture." I advise you to think positively about the kind of collaborators you want in your life as the relationship season heats up. It's crucial that you not let your fears dominate the solicitous vibes you're putting out, and that you formulate your desires with accuracy. Try something like this instead: "Seeking utopian passion-artist with smart emotions and a talent for making optimism intriguing."
Pisces (Feb. 19-March 20): As I drifted off to sleep last night, I asked my spirit guides to provide me with a seed-thought to deliver to you. At exactly 4:44 a.m., I awoke from a dream in which a sweet but firm feminine voice repeated the same statement three times: "Tell Pisces that no one will be hurt but everyone's life will mutate." I'm guessing it means you're about to navigate your way through a very healthy uproar.