Astrology's too loose and removed for my mean thresher of a mind, and to that end I cannot bring myself to fuck with actual psychics religion itself is way off the table, as are the shakier cults. Aside from muttering 'white rabbit' to myself every first of the month, the witchiest regular practice I've ever been able to feel comfortable believing in is tarot cards. But things always stay pretty much the same, as determinedly lopsided as they always were: I feel a weird shiver when I see a broken mirror but step toward black cats on purpose I'll walk underneath a ladder without even noticing because I'm too busy thinking about the ghosts swirling around me.īut that's all pretty site-specific. the ones I decide to throw away, the rules I choose to follow. It's a fun combination!Īround this time of the year, when things feel like they're being forced to gather to a point, I always find myself doing an inventory of my own cynicism - trying to see if the slow creep toward true adulthood has managed to shift me further towards or away from a belief in verifiable fact above all, if there's any more of a logic to the omens I choose to read as omens vs.

I grew up in a family that's as superstitious as it is skeptical, which means that a lot of my internal life is characterized by this weird tug-of-war between wanting to see everything that happens to you as incredibly significant and feeling pretty sure that all the world is just pure, churning chaos.

Dej loaf no fear lesbian