IF YOU ARE ON A CELL PHONE, THE ADDED FEATURES (PLATFORMS, SHORT STORIES, YEAR AHEAD, ETC.) CAN BE ACCESSED FROM THE TOP LEFT HAND CORNER (STACKED LINES). ALSO, THE ‘TRANSLATE’ & WORLD CLOCK WILL APPEAR AT THE BOTTOM.
在手機上，添加的功能（平臺，短篇小說，提前一年等） 可以從左上角訪問（堆疊線）。
*** All times / dates: Please remember that all time references (e.g., “dawn”) are PDT – Pacific Daylight Time zone. You can refer to the World Clock in the sidebar for more listings or Google ‘time zone converter’.
Email: suningem@gmail.com
(NOTE: the phone # under “Readings” above, has been fixed. Sorry for the confusion.)
Tim’s YouTube link: Unveiling Astrology
Unveiling Astrology Part 2
START NOTHING: 1:28 pm to 4:33 pm Mon., 4:52 pm to 7:05 pm Wed., and 8:15 pm to 9:39 pm Fri.
PREAMBLE:
Start nothing new before May 15 — no new relationships, projects, nor important purchases. Instead, stick with the ongoing — or reprise a past bond, project or “missed purchase/missed opportunity.” For some, old flames will re-appear; for others, former income sources will “arrive.” During this period, watch for mistakes, delays and “no shows.” Make sure you have needed supplies on hand, and make a list before you go out on errands or shopping. As Mercury (the cause of all this) retrogrades Friday, 24 hours after the Sun enters Taurus, you Taurus people might revive an old source of $, or a former romance, over the whole year ahead.
(The Merc. retro ends May 14, but I’d wait until the 18th to launch anything.)
Significantly, the Mercury retrograde makes almost any forward motion in May or during Taurus’ reign almost impossible. However, we shouldn’t be frustrated by this, because an entire year of great luck in this very area follows after May 16.
No doubt the universe is unfolding as it should. — Desiderata.
Looking forward, nothing’s destined; looking back, all was destined. — Tim.
There are as many paths to enlightenment as there are souls in the universe. — Tim.
WEEKLY FORECAST:
ARIES: March 21-April 19
Continue in the pursuit of money, Aries, but remember, don’t start anything brand new, and don’t buy anything important (e.g., groceries are standard, but shoes or clothes are important). A former money source might appear, or a purchase you always wanted to make, but the item was not available to you, reappears. Yes, grab these, but nothing “brand new.” Your home life grows sweeter, now to early June. Romance might occur there, and casual sex. A last-minute development might win a court case, or set you free in some other way.
Sunday to late afternoon Monday brings wisdom, a wide vision and international themes, or legal, travel, cultural, publishing and higher learning. (Monday’s confusion ends well.) Monday suppertime to Wednesday suppertime emphasizes your status, prestige, and career ambitions. Display skills, but start nothing. A smooth interval, but avoid conflict Wed. morning. Popularity, hopes and wishes, social joys and flirtations lift your heart Wed. eve to Fri. night. Friday morning’s a bit iffy, disruptive. Retreat Saturday — rest, ponder, be spiritual and charitable. All’s well
TAURUS: April 20-May 20
You remain at a peak, Taurus, of energy, physical health, charisma and humour. But don’t start anything important before May 14 (even better, wait until May 18). (Read PREAMBLE.) Errands, calls and paperwork have been hectic for a few weeks. Now the hectic part continues, but a wee, affectionate note has been added, for the rest of May. For 2 more years, your social and emotional happiness will derive most strongly from your scholastic, travel, legal or cultural involvements.
Sunday to late afternoon Monday brings secrets, mysteries, power plays, and lucrative “findings.” Ponder your present life and lifestyle. You might change these soon in a hugely fortunate way (mid-May ’23 to May ’24). Gentle love, understanding, international, legal or cultural or scholastic themes enter Monday eve to Wednesday suppertime. To succeed, act Tuesday into pre-dawn Wed. Bosses observe you Wed. night through Fri. Show you skills, be dutiful on the job, but start nothing new. Saturday’s for socializing, popularity, entertainment, light romance.
GEMINI: May 21-June 20
Continue to lie low, Gemini. Rest, contemplate (esp. the past, and how you got here). Be spiritual, charitable. Liaise with civil servants, management types. You might be dealing with a past “snafu” with the taxman or other gov’t agencies. Your money picture will improve, now to early June, but you still need to rein in spending. A big wish might come true in a last-minute surprise. (Read PREAMBLE above, too.)
Sunday to about 4 pm Mon. (PDT) boosts relationships into prominence. Monday seems uncertain, but ends with success, agreement (and a wedding for some). Life’s mysterious side emerges Monday eve to Wed. suppertime. Investments, finances, lifestyle, medical needs — these meet with good luck. Gentle love and mental wisdom arrive Wed. eve to Fri. night. Great time for studying, drawing reasonable conclusions. But expect some screw-ups Thursday pre-dawn, and Friday pre-dawn, and early day. Saturday’s for prestige and ambitions — start nothing, but dress well — you’ll be admired!
CANCER: June 21-July 22
Old friends are the best friends, Cancer. You’re on an exciting, heat-buoying rise of socializing, popularity friendly flirtation, and entertainment. But brand new friends (and new projects) probably will not last. (See PREAMBLE above.) You’ve been rather aggressive/assertive the last few weeks, esp. about career. This assertiveness has drawn the attention of the opposite sex (or the same, for Alphabetors, LGB etc.). That continues (to May 20) but now a sweet, affectionate influence is added (to early June). Could signal a “domestic romance.” Your ideas are slowing, coming more concrete for the next 2 years — years which could bring a life mate to single Cancers. Promotion still possible.
Sunday to late afternoon Monday brings chores. Do ‘em, and eat/drink sensibly. Relationships, opportunities and distant horizons face you Monday suppertime to Wednesday suppertime. (Remember, take up nothing new!) Great luck here, but avoid conflict Wed. morn. Secrets, lust, power, research, major finances and medical realities — these enter Wed. twilight through Fri. Be cautious, only Friday eve/night is fortunate. Saturday’s for travel, learning, law, wisdom and gentle love.
LEO: July 23-Aug. 22
The accent remains on career, prestige relations and worldly standing, Leo. A former role or job could reappear. Continue to avoid belligerent people. Now to early June, your inner life will grow more and more comfortable, even pleasant. For 2 years ahead, your best investments will be “tied” to your work. (E.g., if you operate a bull dozer, then invest in Kubota or Caterpillar.)
Sunday to early suppertime Monday (PDT) strikes a romantic or creative note. Some confusion (or intimacy) but all ends well. Tackle chores Monday suppertime to Wednesday suppertime. Eat, dress sensibly. You’ll get lots done, easily. Relationships fill Wed. night to Friday. Opportunities, too, and relocation themes, and possible enmities. Be diplomatic. Some disruptions. Saturday is for mysteries, investigations, lust, high finance — all’s well here!
VIRGO: Aug. 23-Sept. 22
(Read the PREAMBLE for clues, Virgo.) The emphasis remains on far travel, scholarship, wisdom, gentle love and social/cultural rituals, Virgo. Your “wishes” for great sex might or might not have manifested the last four weeks (involving a friendly person) but now to early June another, affectionate influence enters. This could turn lust into a more teddy-bear “love,” or it could finally give you what you’ve wanted. A late great stroke of luck could brighten your bank account.
Sunday to suppertime Monday emphasizes your home. Hug the kids, putter around the yard, etc. All’s well, but be vigilante around youngsters and water. Romance, beauty, pleasure, creative surges, these come Monday suppertime to Wednesday suppertime (PDT) — a great interval with many fortunate “turns,” but avoid conflict Wed. morning. Mysteries and deep, almost magical attractions fill Wed. suppertime through Fri. Be cautious, keep your money to yourself. Saturday’s for relationships — exciting, compatible ones. Explore something/somewhere new with your mate.
LIBRA: Sept. 23-Oct. 22
The accent remains on assets, core values, secrets, fertility, lust, power, medical and lifestyle choices, and finances. Higher-ups are still impatient, snarky (and you might feel a spouse is this way, too). But now to early June, bossy people seem to have less to complain about, and your status stock rises. Former lovers, sex partners might appear.
Sunday to early suppertime Monday is filled with chats, texts, paperwork, short trips. Some uncertainty with these Monday morning, but all ends well, even fortunately if a relationship is involved. Steer toward home, family, security, nature, food, soul Monday eve to (late) suppertime Wed. Romance, beauty, pleasure, bright children call Wednesday eve through Friday. But it’s a problematic interval, with some disruptions Friday morning. Saturday is for chores — tackle them early, and you’ll be surprised at how much you accomplish — easily!
SCORPIO: Oct. 23-Nov. 21
Relationships excite; opportunities and relocation themes (also fame) are offered also. Read the PREAMBLE above — start no new relations, projects, opportunities, etc. If one comes from the past, grab it/him/her. Otherwise, stick with the person or project who/that brought you this far. I hope I’ve warned you away from lawsuits the last few weeks — that warning lasts to May 20. But now a planet of peace and compromise enters, until early June, giving you a chance for any legal matters to work out well. You might fall in love with someone for their “brains.”
Chase $ Sunday to late afternoon Monday. All’s well, but stay way from romance and beauty (when shopping). Monday eve to Wed. suppertime (PDT) brings errands, paperwork, trips and communications. Ask questions. Double-check details, addresses, figures. Take the odd frustration (mostly Fri. morning) in stride. Saturday’s superb for romance, creativity, beauty, sports, pleasure, and teaching kids.
SAGITTARIUS: Nov. 22-Dec. 21
The emphasis on work and drudgery continues, Sage. Just shrug and do them. But don’t take on new tasks, or seek new employment, before May 15. (Read the PREAMBLE above.) Eat and dress sensibly, and pamper your health a bit. A former job might return. Your sexuality has been on fire the last four weeks; it remains so this week and next, but now (to early June) an additional influence enters, an influence of love and tenderness. If this combines, it could make an almost perfect love.
Your energy, charisma and clout stand high Sunday to late afternoon Monday (PDT). Focus on love rather than on home or domestic issues, and all should end well. Chase $ late Monday to late suppertime Wed. Don’t buy anything significant, tho. (Anything from shoes to mansions; groceries okay.) Errands, communications, paperwork and travel fill Wednesday eve through Friday. Not an easy interval, so go slow, and double-deck all figures, addresses, etc. Saturday, be home or in the ‘hood — a ver pleasant day, esp. morning.
CAPRICORN: Dec. 22-Jan. 19
Read the PREAMBLE, Cap. Start no new relationships, projects or major purchases before May 15. A former love might reappear. The main accent is on romance, and you already have felt that intense, if momentary, attraction toward a mate or prospect. Now, sweet Venus joins in (to early June) making the love quotient pretty high! You have ten more days to take advantage of a once-in-a-decade real estate opportunity. (Most of you have already grabbed this; and it’s getting late!) You’ll be more talkative for 2 years, but in “serious talk.”
Lie low, rest, ponder, be charitable and seek advice Sunday to late afternoon Monday. Your energy and charisma soar from Money eve to late suppertime Wed. The is an excellent interval, so charge ahead. Make your presence known. Wednesday night through Friday nudges you to chase and collect money. Be careful spending, though — stick to weekly necessities. Face disruptions with patience. Saturday is for friends, contacts, paperwork, trips and communications — a beautiful day, esp. early.
AQUARIUS: Jan. 20-Feb. 18
The accent remains on home, family, roots, security, nature, stomach and soul, Aquarius. Get lots of rest — take life easy. Your work or workplace has been rather hectic lately, with rush jobs or “hurries” over missing links etc. — and maybe a few squabbles. But now to early June, harmony and affection enter — things will still be hectic (to May 20) but also rewarding and happy.
Errands, communications, contacts, trips and paperwork fill Sunday and Monday to suppertime. Good fortune here. Think “big.” (But one warning: don’t start any new projects or relationships before May 15.) Retreat, find quietude, rest and contemplate Monday eve to late suppertime Wed. Seek advice, be charitable, spiritual. Your energy and pizzazz shoot upward Wednesday night through Friday. Luck during this interval is jumbled — be cautious around dawn Friday (PDT). Saturday is for shopping, casual “afternoon” sex, learning and memorizing. A rather fun day.
PISCES: Feb. 19-March 20
The emphasis continues on errands, short trips, communications and paperwork, Pisces. (Read the PREAMBLE above before you start anything new here.) Double-check all addresses, figures, etc. A former friend might “be around.” Recently, romance (or creative projects) have been intense, perhaps hectic, but have lacked the “loving touch.” Now, though, a gentleness and tenderness is added to the intensity, making it pleasurable — and oddly enough, more sexy.
Be ambitious (but start nothing new) Sunday to early suppertime Mon. Generally, a good result; bosses approve. Your popularity rises, and social joys, entertainment, friendly flirtations fill Monday eve to late suppertime Wed. A great interval, but avoid a money for love conflict Wed. morning. Retreat, rest and ponder Wednesday night through Friday. Be spiritual, kind. Ask for advice. Not the easiest interval, esp. Friday morning. Saturday is for YOU. Your energy and charisma draw others, makes them listen. Get out, see and be seen — you’ll be confident, happy!
THE END.
AFTERAMBLE:
FIVE VERY SHORT — AND UNHAPPY? — STORIES
By Tim Stephens
1.
She had worked Bill up so well he was ready to murder her husband. But he wasn’t sure if murder was wrong or not, because he loved her, and love conquers all. So he went to a psychic, who saw his uncle riding a sailboat (which Bill had helped build) and other correct, but useless, information. With the same blitheness, he went next to an astrologer.
The astrologer was quite well known in the city; in fact, had a national clientele, so he earned almost as much as a ditch-digger, and lived in a basement.
First he performed a short personality assessment. Then he began to reel off a number of things, and reached:
“It hints you’re in love — Venus transiting your fifth of romance. But look here, Pluto, the death planet, lies exactly between her yods. Is she stricken with something? I don’t see anything in her eighth house, and her digestive 4th looks good. Yet her part of marriage is imprisoned by these two malifics, Saturn and Mars. And your part of marriage sits in a degree of death — 10 Leo, while her Sun occupies your 12th house of helplessness. Somehow, death swims around this situation. Can you tell me anything? Does this resonate” (he changed his words quickly, to “mean anything to you?”
Bill stared at him, then at the indecipherable symbols scattered around several wheels, all drawn on paper.
“Are you saying this is destined, then?”
“Everything is destined. And yet nothing is.”
***********
2.
The room was ghostly gray in the infant dawn.
Where are you? he said.
What do you mean?
About us. Where are you?
Umm, okay.
Okay? I love you.
Yes.
That’s all? I love you.
You should not say that. You know you shouldn’t.
How do I know? How do I know?
It’s the law. The way — you know.
Oh, I’m sorry. Because some slob, or this — this — FAMILY thinks it’s BAD? It isn’t bad, is it? Between your legs, is it bad?
Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!
My head swims just — all the time — when I think of you, my head swims. I’m afraid I’ll drown in that ocean.
The ocean of my arms? She grinned, slightly, reclining.
Touching her was like caressing paradise.
Give it to me, come on, give it!
He could run, or he could slide into the tunnel of pleasure, a tunnel he increasingly felt trapped in.
Oh, give it up. You’re just a Nancy boy. No,I’ve changed my mind. Get OFF me!
Oh, fuck you. He jumped to his feet.
Fuck you.
He left the shack, kicking the door. Sunshine hit him, closing his eyes momentarily.
He returned to the shack, opened the door: I’ll be back! he shouted.
Oh fuck you!
He couldn’t stand it, the presence of her rounded breasts, thighs, rounding into that cleft of paradise. He charged in and took her.
Don’t tell … the voice was muffled.
***********
3.
Rick was twenty. His friend, Gerald, was twenty. Gerry was built square and solid. Tom had watched him lift one end of a Volkswagen off the ground. In Grade 12, a circle of hoods surrounded him. Gerry beat two of them and knocked a third unconscious. “Wow,” Tom laughed when he heard of it. “You don’t fuck with Gerry!” (But, Rick suspected, the greasers were only natural: trying to rid humanity of an aberrant member.)
Aside from Rick, John and Dave, 3 “eggheads,” Gerry had no friends, and spoke to no one else. In class, he sat with massive granite silence, stoic silence, his legs crossed, elbows on his desk, and twirled a compass incessantly. Rick never saw him otherwise, in class. He never looked at the teacher, and was never called on. He was, like Rick, Dave and John, an A student. (Rick was the opposite: he grew so involved in class discussions that he was a few times thrown out by the teacher — twice for correcting the teacher’s grammar. Twice he was threatened with expulsion. Both times he wept, terrified of being alone, exiled for a year — a threat that didn’t solidify.)
None of the other students dealt with Gerry. He wore paisley shirts that his mother chose, and the gorky, ga-lompy kind of shoes you ordered by mail from newspaper ads.
But time had passed. Dave went to Bakersfield College, John entered a local university, and Rick, his path bent somehow by a book, “Under the Volcano,” went to explore and ended up in San Diego, in the Marines. Viet Nam was just ending. So Rick didn’t go to war. But, discharged, he came home, got a warehouse job, and rented a one-room set-up nearby. The bathroom was down the hall, shared. Drugs were everywhere those days, but Rick was wary of his own mind, and only indulged a few try-outs. Gerry, though, had dropped acid many times (who counted?) and Rick came home to a friend who said he had talked to Jesus, had found nirvana and cosmic secrets, and — Rick, he said, had a blue aura, Rick was a healer, and his first duty was, Gerry said, to heal Gerry.
Several months after Rick’s return, Gerry’s parents committed him to the looney bin. Gerry escaped, and came to visit Rick, in the weak winter afternoon, He seemed distracted, but you could never tell. Rick watched him pick up one of his razor blades from the small sink stand.
“I’m going for a walk,” Gerry said, straightening.
Gerry’s parents phoned — a sweet little Quebecois couple transplanted (why? Rick wondered) to Vancouver. Yes, he’d just left. He might one back. He said he would. His Dad asked Rick to call the police when Gerry showed. Rick was torn, but young enough still to accede to the older generation’s wishes.
Without his phoning, the police showed up, and Rick agreed that if Gerry returned, he would lower the Venetian blinds.
Gerald came in an hour later. There was only some orange crayon in the dying sky out his window. Gerry pulled his jacket sleeve up and showed Rick. There was a deep cut across his right wrist; it looked like a red envelope of white worms.
“It’s harder to do than you think,” he said, standing stiff and tall. “You have to keep sawing at it.”
He wiggled it,moving the worms.
A pair of cops arrived; they simply entered the room without talking. One was — purposely, Rick thought — a giant. The other was only a beefy big cop.
Gerry stepped back, wary.
“What’s your name son?”
“R – Randy Forrest,” he lied. Now Rick saw the panic, the fear.
One of the cops looked at Rick.
“Is it him?”
Rick hesitated. “Yes,” he nodded, swimming in his betrayal.
After that, it was just ordinary shit. Gerry struggled, bracing his feet on the floor, but the cops were bigger and, ultimately, stronger, and they pulled him away. Gerry didn’t look at Rick the entire time. Rick sensed that was heroic, Gerry wasn’t blaming nor dragging anyone else into his struggle. Rick was only a bystander now, Rick felt that. Later, he couldn’t even remember if the cops had used handcuffs or not. Even years later, Gerry’s non-look pierced Rick’s guilt, pinned to his life-board like a dart.
******
4.
My girlfriend lives 500 miles east. Don’t ask how we started — I won’t tell you. She’s often cruel. She sends me 5 to 10 emails a day, and gets fierce if I don’t answer. Then, suddenly last week, she stopped writing. After a silent day, I sent a wee email: “Goodnight, sweet princess,” which is unlike me. No answer. I waited 2 more days, then wrote asking her to at least confirm she was okay. She didn’t answer, so Friday morning I emailed to tell her that if she did not say she was alive I would phone the police for a wellness check. She lives alone on 400 acres of frozen ground. She’s 69. I could envision her having slipped as she tried to manhandle a bale of hay up what I knew was an ice-slicked 50-foot rise from the barn. She could have broken her hip, or whatever, lying there dying, freezing to death.
An hour later, I received a fierce, angry email basically telling me to fuck off. Remember, in the past (3 years) she has not let one day go by without emailing various emotional pleas and demands. (Except, of course, when I was there and we laid together.) So to go 3 days without a word was alarming. But not to her, I suppose: for my concern (must be a better word) I was an idiot, a fool. She had every right to not email, she said. And where did I get the balls of stupidity to call the police on her? So I said, Fuck you, you ungrateful bitch. (It’s like you try to save someone from drowning, and they sock you in the face.)
So I sent her an email telling her I was through — GONE! But I also included that her huge old breasts (she could stuff her nipples in her belly button) her female baldness and lumpy, sagging body were repulsive. (I figured if I criticized all her physical oddities, it would finally, ultimately ruin it between us, and I would be free.) “I’m the only man that would have you, who hasn’t laughed at your repulsive physical attributes,” I wrote. “Now you can grow old alone. Fuck you.” (Actually, I love her body. I go to sleep every night imagining/remembering it. All day, perhaps 6 or 8 times a day, I think of her soft white belly, the flesh of her thighs, and that slippery pink nub, and my loins clench. She knows I’m — almost — obsessed with her physically.)
So I wrote (she refuses to speak with me on the phone) “Don’t write me in a few days being nice and trying to renew our bond. I’m through!”
For two days I walked softly through sadness. Then she emails, as if nothing had happened: “I’ve had such a good time visiting Calgary with Stephanie. We found a fantastic bakery. I thought maybe you could come here and the three of us could…”
This, of course, has been the problem for 3 years: We have a huge blow-up, after which I do visit, and we last about a week before I’m fleeing again. Now, I’m not certain: does my constant fleeing irritate her into wrath toward me and spark those constant put-downs (which I finally countered, about her wrinkled tits and all)? Or is her constant testing and criticisms of me why I flee?
I can’t tell you. Okay, so she did once, on one of my visits, ask me to commit to her. I value my freedom, so I lied and said “Yes, I’m committed.” And the next day, I was gone, racing through the yellow hills back to Vancouver. But right now I just want to go back there, to embrace her, to hug her until she’s part of me.
So I’ll end this letter, George, with the puzzle unanswered. Sorry for the crude stuff. Do you think I should keep living?
*********
5.
The front door of the room, painted daffodil yellow, half open, looked out on the primitive, large leaves of the jungle. The porch was red wood. The door consisted of four planks, held together top and bottom by cross-planks. The planks were nailed together by spikes. The door knob was old, tainted brass, with the wear of many hands. A machete lay, abandoned, on the porch floor, but you could not tell, the way the dim afternoon light shone on it, whether it was stained or not. The yellow door was shoddily made, some of the spikes had not fully sunk, their bent backs betraying an unskilled carpenter. Red splotches belted the waist of the door. Beside the door, inside, a deep green, shabby armchair stood. In it sat, or half-lay, a young woman, about 25, with long bare slim arms, a narrow face and blonde curls. A flower print cotton dress lay over her neck and shoulders, breasts, mildly rounded stomach and over her long legs like light drapery. Her gaze (for she seemed to be looking) remained steadily on the far wall, where a glassed photo of a man hung, black and white…red began to trickle down her neck, seeping through her dress, and around her slim shoulders and along the ski slope of her left arm, zigzagging left and right and down as it encountered every blonde hair.
“CUT!” The lights dimmed.
“Can I get a coffee here?” she sang out.