Tag: #CosmicRamble

  • People act like Pisces is some soft dreamer floating around like they’re made of incense smoke and love songs.

    Cute. Adorable. Precious.

    Let me tell you something:

    A Pisces who has lived — really lived — is a whole different creature.

    A Pisces is a wolf that learned to walk upright.

    Yeah, we feel everything.

    We don’t get to numb out like the rest of the world.

    We feel the room change before anyone speaks.

    We know when someone’s lying even when their lips haven’t moved yet.

    And we’ve buried enough ghosts to run our own cemetery.

    But we’re still here.

    That’s the wolf part.

    The wolf moves quiet.

    Doesn’t need applause.

    Doesn’t need a crowd.

    Pack when it’s good.

    Alone when it has to be.

    And God help anything that thinks “alone” means “weak.”

    Pisces and wolves both walk that line between:

    Healer and Hell-raiser Gentle and lethal Love and warfare

    We don’t go looking for trouble.

    But trouble?

    Trouble loves to leave its address with us.

    And when the wolf wakes up…

    we don’t bark.

    We bite.

    Not to destroy.

    But to protect the peace we damn near died to earn.

    See, healing isn’t about becoming harmless.

    Healing is learning exactly when to use your teeth.

    We’re not just dreamers.

    We’re survivors with halos cracked from impact.

    We’re quiet until the moment silence is no longer mercy.

    We’ve cried oceans.

    We’ve walked out of fires with smoke still in our lungs.

    We’ve carried people we loved on our backs while bleeding through our own shirts.

    But here’s the secret:

    We’re still tender.

    We still love like it’s our religion.

    We still believe in things most people gave up on.

    We just learned to guard it.

    So if you see a Pisces smiling, calm, unbothered, mind your tone.

    That peace did not come cheap.

    We didn’t become the wolf to be feared.

    We became the wolf

    so we would never be devoured again.

    Stay Dirty. Stay Wolf. Stay Human.

    🐺✨

    — Saint Dirty Face

  • It’s Sunday, which means half the world is still in bed scrolling horoscopes, and the other half is outside pretending the universe left them on “read.”

    Here’s the thing: horoscopes are fun. They’re like fortune cookies with better PR. We all peek at them—“This week you will find love, money, and a free pizza.” Sure, babe, sounds good. But you know and I know that the stars aren’t punching in at the cosmic call center to solve our problems.

    What horoscopes do give us is a mirror. A reason to pause. A little poetry to break up the grind. And sometimes that’s all we need. A spark. A word. An excuse to hope.

    But in the end? Trust your gut. Your instincts. That voice that tells you when to move, when to fight, when to shut the hell up and just listen. Stars may guide sailors, but instinct saves wolves.

    So read your horoscope if you want. Hell, tattoo your zodiac across your chest if it makes you feel alive (guilty as charged). But never outsource your soul to a paragraph in the back of a magazine.

    The stars may shine, but you? You burn.

    –––

    Saint Dirty Face™

    Stay Dirty, Stay Human™