Russian Fairy Tale - one of my Favourite

Source: http://img401.imageshack.us/img401/7929/trfrdt5.jpg

The Frog Princess

Source: http://www.artrusse.ca/fairytales/frog-princess.htm#

Many years ago a tsar had three sons. When they came of age he sent for them and said:

“My sons, before I am too old I want you to marry and I would like to see my grandchildren.”

The sons replied: “In that case, father, give us your blessing. But whom are we to marry?” “My sons,” the tsar said, “take your bows, go out into the open field, and shoot an arrow. Wherever it falls, there you will find your wife.”

The sons bowed to their father, took their bows, went into the fields, drew them and shot their arrows. The eldest son’s arrow fell into a nobleman’s courtyard, where it was picked up by his daughter. The second son’s arrow fell into a merchant’s courtyard, and it was picked up by his daughter. But the arrow shot by the youngest son, Prince Ivan, rose so high and flew so far that he didn’t know where to look for it. So he started to walk, and at last he came to a marsh. In the marsh he saw a frog with his arrow in its mouth. He said to the frog: “Frog, give me back my arrow.”  But the frog replied: “Then take me for your wife.” “Oh, come now,” the prince said, “how can I have a frog as my wife?”  “But you must, for it is the tsar’s will.”  At first the prince tried to avoid it, but eventually he had to accept his fate and carry the frog home.

Then the tsar arranged for the three marriages; his eldest son to the nobleman’s daughter, his second to the merchant’s daughter, and the unhappy Prince Ivan to the frog.

After the weddings the tsar summoned his sons again, and told them: “I want to see which of your wives the finest needlewoman is. Each one is to make me a shirt by tomorrow.”

The sons bowed to their father and went to tell their wives. But when Prince Ivan arrived home he sat down looking very miserable. The frog was jumping around on the floor, and it asked him:

“You look very unhappy, Prince Ivan? Are you in trouble?”

“My father has ordered you to make him a shirt by tomorrow,” the prince answered.

“Do not worry, Prince Ivan,” the frog said. “You just go to bed. You will feel better after a good sleep.”

So he went to bed. But the frog jumped out on to the verandah, threw off its skin and turned into the wise Princess Vassilisa, a maiden so beautiful that words could never describe her. She clapped her hands and cried: “My faithful attendants, gather round and listen to me. Sew for me by tomorrow morning a shirt like the one my own father used to wear.”

When the prince woke up next morning the frog was jumping about the floor again, but a shirt wrapped in linen was already lying on the table. He was overjoyed. He picked up the shirt and took it to his father. When he arrived, the tsar was receiving the gifts from his two elder sons. The eldest son spread out the shirt his wife had made. As the tsar accepted it he said: “This is a shirt for everyday wear.”  When the second son spread out his shirt, the tsar said: “I could only go to the bath in that.”

Then Prince Ivan unfolded his shirt; it was embroidered with gold and silver threads in intricate patterns. The tsar took one look at it and declared: “Now that is a shirt; I can wear it on important occasions.” The two elder brothers went oft home, remarking to each other as they went: “It seems we were too quick to laugh at Ivan’s wife; she is no frog, she is a witch.”

Now the tsar sent for his sons again, and told them: “Each of your wives is to bake a loaf of bread for me by tomorrow. I wish to find out which is the best cook.”

When Prince Ivan arrived home after seeing his father he looked so miserable that the frog asked him: “What is the matter, Prince Ivan?”  “You have to bake a loaf of bread for the tsar by tomorrow,” Ivan answered.  “Do not worry; just go to bed. You will feel better after a good sleep.”

At first the elder sons wives had made fun of Prince Ivan’s frog wife. But now they had changed their minds, and they sent an old kitchen woman to spy out how the frog was going to bake bread. But the frog, being wise, realized their scheme. After kneading the dough it made a hole in the top of the brick oven and poured the dough through the hole. The woman saw what had been done, and ran to the elder brothers’s wives and told them. So they set to work and did the same. But after Prince Ivan had gone to bed the frog jumped out on to the verandah, turned into the wise Princess Vassilisa, and clapped her hands: “My faithful attendants, gather round and listen to me. Bake for me by the morning soft white bread like the bread I ate at my father’s table.”

When the prince woke up next morning the loaf of bread was already lying on the table. It was decorated with various fancy designs, and on its top was the shape of a city with walls and gates. He was delighted, wrapped the bread in clean linen, and took it to his father. When he arrived the tsar was receiving the loaves brought by his two elder sons. But their wives had poured the dough into the ovens just as the old woman had told them, and all they had to show for their labour were two burnt cinders. The tsar took the burnt loaf offered by his eldest son, looked at it, and sent it straight to the servants’s quarters.

Then he took the loaf from his second son, and sent it after the other. But when Prince Ivan handed him his loaf the tsar said: “Now this is such good bread, it should be eaten only on great occasions.”

The tsar had arranged a banquet for the following day, and he ordered his sons to attend with their wives. The thought of his frog wife attending a banquet made Prince Ivan feel far from cheerful, and he returned home with his head hanging. As usual, the frog was jumping about the floor. When it saw him it asked: “Prince Ivan, what are you looking so miserable for? Has your father said something unpleasant to you?” “How can I help looking miserable, frog? My father has ordered me to bring you to a banquet; and how can I show you to people?”  But the frog answered: “Do not grieve, Prince Ivan. You go oft to the banquet by yourself, and I will follow later. When you hear a knock and a clap of thunder, do not be afraid. If anyone asks you what it means, just say: “That is my little frog who is coming riding in a little box.”

So he went off to the banquet alone. His elder brothers arrived with their wives dressed in their finery, wearing their jewellery, their faces painted and powdered. They laughed at Prince Ivan and asked: “Why did you not bring your wife with you? You could have carried her in a handkerchief. Wherever did you find such a beauty? You must have searched all through the marshes for her.”

The tsar, his sons, their wives, and all the guests sat down at the oaken tables, which were spread with embroidered tablecloths. But before they started to feast there was a loud knock and a clap of thunder, so powerful that the palace shook. The guests were alarmed, and jumped up from their seats. But Prince Ivan said: “Do not be afraid. It is only my little frog coming. She is riding in a little box.”

At that moment a gilded carriage drawn by six white horses drew up at the tsar’s front door, and the wise Princess Vassilisa stepped out. She was wearing an azure gown studded with stars; on her head was a shining chaplet; she was so beautiful that the guests sat and stared. She took Prince Ivan by the hand and he led her to the oaken table.

The guests began to eat and drink, and to make merry. But the wise Vassilisa only took one sip from her glass, pouring the rest into her left sleeve. She only nibbled at her plate of swan meat, and dropped the bones into her right sleeve. And when the two elder brothers’s wives noticed what she was doing they followed her example.

After the eating and drinking it was time for dancing. The wise Vassilisa took Prince Ivan’s hand and they danced together. And she danced so marvelously, so beautifully, that all the guests were amazed. Then she waved her left sleeve, and suddenly a lake was formed in the hall; she waved her right sleeve, and white swans floated on the lake. The tsar and his guests were filled with astonishment.

Then the elder brothers’s wives also danced. And when they danced they waved one sleeve, but they only sprinkled the guests with wine; they waved the other sleeve, but only bones flew out. One bone hit the tsar in the eye, and he was so angry that he drove both the wives out of the palace.

Meanwhile, Prince Ivan quietly slipped out of the hall, and hurried home. He found the frog skin lying on the verandah and threw it into the stove, where it burnt in the fire. When Princess Vassilisa returned home she saw that the frog skin was gone. She sat down on a bench and said to her husband sorrowfully: “Ah, Prince Ivan, what have you done? If you had waited only another three days I would have been yours for ever. But now I must say goodbye. You can look for me in the thirtieth kingdom beyond three times nine lands. There you will find me with Kashchey the Deathless.”

Then she turned into a grey cuckoo and flew out of the window. And the prince wept bitterly. Bowing to all the four points of the compass he went off into the world to seek his wife, the wise Princess Vassilisa. He walked for so long that he wore out his boots, his clothes were torn, and the rain soaked through his cap. One day he happened to meet a very old man, who asked him: “Hello, young man! What are you seeking, where are you going?”  The prince told him how he had lost his wife, and was now seeking her. And the old man said: “Ah, Prince Ivan, what made you burn the frog skin? You did not have to wear it or take it off. The wise Vassilisa was born cleverer and wiser than her father, and he was so annoyed that he ordered her to be a frog for three years. What is done cannot be undone. Take this ball; wherever it rolls, you follow boldly after it.”

The prince thanked the old man and started to follow the ball. It rolled along, and he walked behind it. In the open country he came across a bear, and took aim, intending to kill it. But the bear spoke to him in a human voice: “Do not kill me, Prince Ivan. Some day I shall be of service to you.”

The prince had pity on the bear, and went on his way without shooting it. As he walked he saw a drake flying above him.  He took aim to shoot it, but the drake spoke to him in a human voice: “Do not kill me, Prince Ivan. I shall be of service to you.”

So he had pity on the drake and went his way. Next a hare came running past. Ivan thought he would shoot the hare; but it said in a human voice:

“Do not kill me, Prince Ivan. I shall be of service to you.”

So he let the hare go, and went his way. He came to the blue sea and saw a pike lying on the sand of the shore. It was hardly able to breathe, and it said to him:

“Prince Ivan, have pity on me; throw me back into the blue sea.”

So he threw the pike into the sea, and followed the ball as it rolled along the shore. At last the ball rolled into a forest. There the prince saw a little hut standing on a chicken leg, and twisting round and round. He said to the hut: “Little hut, little hut, stand just as you were built, with your back to the forest, your front to me.”

Then the little hut turned with its front towards him, and its back to the forest. He went inside, and saw an old witch, the Baba Yaga, lying on top of the stove, her chin resting on the shelf at the top of the stove, and her nose pressed up against the ceiling.  “Why have you called on me, young fellow?” the old witch asked him. “Are you seeking your fortune, or are you running away from it?”

“You old scold,” the prince answered, “before you start asking questions you should give me food and drink and a hot bath.”

So the old witch Baba Yaga gave him a hot bath, gave him food and drink, and put him to bed. Then the prince told her he was seeking his wife, the wise Princess Vassilisa.

“I know, I know,” the old witch said. “Your wife is with Kashchey the Deathless now. It will be difficult to get her away from him, Kashchey is not easy to deal with. His death is right at the point of a needle, the needle is in an egg, the egg is in a duck, the duck is in a hare, the hare is sitting in a stone chest, the stone chest is in the crown of a lofty oak, and Kashchey the Deathless guards that oak as he would the apple of his eye.”

Prince Ivan spent the night in the old witch’s hut, and next morning she told him how to get to the spot where the lofty oak was growing. The prince found the spot, and saw the oak standing, rustling its leaves; in its crown was a stone chest, so high that it was very difficult to get at.

Suddenly a bear ran up and tore the oak up by its roots. The chest fell, and was smashed to pieces. A hare leapt out of the chest, and fled at top speed. But a second hare chased after it, overtook it, and tore it to pieces. But a duck flew out of the pieces, and sailed right up to the sky. However, as the prince watched, a drake flew at the duck; as he struck her she let fall an egg, and the egg dropped into the azure sea.

At the sight Prince Ivan shed bitter tears: how could he ever find that egg in the sea? But suddenly a pike swam up to the shore with the egg in its mouth. The prince broke the egg, took out the needle, and set to work to snap its point. As he snapped it Kashchey the Deathless struggled and writhed. But he could do nothing: the prince snapped off the point of the needle, and Kashchey died.

Then the prince went to Kashchey’s white stone palace. The wise Princess Vassilisa ran out to meet him, and kissed him on his lips. So Prince Ivan and Princess Vassilisa returned home, and they lived happily to a ripe old age.

And isn’t your life extremely flat with nothing whatever to grumble at! (W.S. Gilbert)

We must, however, acknowledge, as it seems to me, that man with all his noble qualities… still bears in his bodily frame the indelible stamp of his lowly origin. (Charles Darwin)

The more humanity advances, the more it is degraded. (Gustave Flaubert).

Since I no longer expect anything from mankind except madness, meanness, and mendacity; egotism, cowardice, and self-delusion, I have stopped being a misanthrope. (Irving Layton)

The world is populated in the main by people who should not exist. (George Bernard Shaw)

I only go out to get me a fresh appetite for being alone. (Lord Byron)

The Bible tells us to love our neighbours, and also to love our enemies; probably because they are generally the same people.  (G. K. Chesterton)

So I do my homework.  I bought the journal and I write in it every day, one page daily.  It has been seven days now.  Has my physical and mental health improved?  Maybe, it’s hard to say.  I have another “diary,” the idea is to write three pages every day at the beginning of the day.  I force myself to do it consistently.  I guess I figured out my major problem – it just stares right in my face.  But leaving these cryptic generalizations alone, I will just post the quotes, that inspired my writing in the “In my humble opinion” journal the past week.

Hell is other people. (Jean-Paul Sartre)

I sometimes think that God in creating man somewhat overestimated his ability. (Oscar Wilde)

Human beings, who are almost unique in having the ability to learn from the experience of others, are also remarkable for their apparent disinclination to do so. (Douglas Adams).

This world is made up for most part of morons and natural tyrants, sure of themselves, strong in their own opinions, never doubting anything. (Clarence Darrow)

Only two things are infinite, the universe and human stupidity, and I’m not sure about the former. (Albert Einstein)

Many people would sooner die than think.  In fact, they do. (Bertrand Russell)

Such is the human race.  Often it does seem such a pity that Noah … didn’t miss the boat.  (Mark Twain)

In my Humble Opinion

A journal to vent about why people are like that and why all the stupid things they do are so obvious to me, from not using their turn signals to believing they’re center of the universe to sweating small stuff to ignoring the fact that we’re all just trying to make our way in this insanely crowded world but some of us are doing it a whole lot better than others.

Other people are so annoying

If it weren’t for all those idiots, your life would be perfect.  After all, you’re a good driver, a sensible friend, a nuanced coworker, a caring mate, and, most of all, you know how to stand in a line without cutting.  Given the antics of the thronging rabble, however, “If you’re not angry, you’re not paying attention,” as the bumper sticker says.  We’d probably all be better off if we weren’t paying attention – to the tailgating jerk behind us, to the woman screeching into her cell phone, to the waiter who thinks he’s God’s gift.  Two centuries before bumper stickers enriched our lives, the eighteenth-century poet Thomas Gray said “Ignorance is bliss,” and no doubt it’s still true.

For better or worse, you don’t have the gift of oblivion.  You notice every little irritating tic and injustice and spend your hours wondering why people are like that.  And who could blame you?  Plain and simple, there’s a lot to vent about these days.  Our concerns range from the significant (war, environmental destruction, the continued popularity of reality television) to smaller, everyday annoyances (stupid pop songs, telemarketers, and overpriced coffee) to the philosophical (do humans even matter in the cosmos?)  You’re paying attention, and the result is misanthropy ranging from the vague to the acute.

One justification for your aggravation level is the overcrowding of our contemporary world.  We’re living in congested cities, competing for resources, clogging highways, and generally rubbing up against one another.  Supreme Court Justice Oliver Wendell Holmes Jr. famously stated, “The right to swing my fist ends where the other man’s nose begins.”  The same could apply to loud music, cigarette smoke, and honking.  The damaging effects of proximity have been proven: in renowned studies on the deliberate overcrowding of rats, high levels of aggression and compromised health were the inevitable result.

Annoyance isn’t terribly good for you either.  Research shows that those who score high on a hostility scale are substantially more likely to die earlier than those at low or average levels, primarily from heart disease.  Physiologically, the effects of anger include the release of the hormones adrenaline and noradrenaline, increased heart rate and blood pressure, and the movement of sugar into the bloodstream.  It also, however, appears to be something we crave – as much as sex, food, and drugs.  According to a Vanderbilt University study, aggression engages the brain’s reward pathways and involves dopamine.

We do seem to be delighted to compare our irritations with others – witness the blogging movement.  In an article in the Minneapolis Star Tribune, Laura Lee author of The Pocket Encyclopedia of Aggravation, notes, “People like hearing that other people are bugged by the same things” because “we’re not stoning anyone or being killed by leeches, so we have the leisure to concentrate on petty annoyances.”  In his book The Emotional Revolution, Dr. Norman E. Rosenthal states, “Bad traffic, slow waiters, an insensitive boss, an incompetent employee, or an inattentive spouse are all common provocations.”

But do you have to be angry to write down your humble opinions?  Certainly not.  “Humble opinion” is, of course, an understatement – whenever anybody uses that phrase, the presumption is that opinion is correct and better than everyone else’s.  Even when it’s expressed as an acronym online (IMHO), it’s false mitigation of what you know to be right – your view.  And what better place to express that than a journal, where nobody can contradict you?

Whether you scribble your two cents’ worth or vent your rage on any given day, journaling is a healthy outlet for your thoughts.  You won’t anger anybody else, and, should you be irritated, you might just work through your own anger.  Experts now believe that anger is generally best when it’s suppressed (not expressed) but that it can be damaging when it’s repressed (not known or acknowledged).  In his book Anger: How to Recognize and Cope with It, Dr. Leo Madow notes, “If anger is considered as ‘energy’, it cannot be destroyed (forgotten) but must be converted.”

Fortunately, the benefits of journal writing have been examined, to surprisingly consistent results.  According to a widely cited study by James W. Pennebaker and Janel D. Seagal, “Writing about important personal experiences is an emotional way for as little as fifteen minutes over the course of three days brings about improvements in mental and physical health.”  Proven physical effects include stress management, strengthened immune systems, fewer doctor visits, and improvement in chronic illnesses such as asthma (clearly it’s better to vent in your journal than to hyperventilate).  “It’s hard to believe,” says Pennebaker, a psychology professor at the University of Texas at Austin, but “being able to put experiences into words is good for your physical health.”  Kathleen Adams, founder of the Center for Journal Therapy, calls journals “79-cent therapists.”

It’s not entirely clear how journaling accomplishes all this.  The consensus among experts is that catharsis is involved, but they also point to the organization of experience into a narrative.  According to Newsweek, some scholars believe that journaling “forces us to transform the ruminations cluttering our minds into coherent stories.  Writing about an experience may also dull its emotional impact.”  Psychologist Ira Progoff, widely considered to be the father of the modern journaling movement, stated in 1975 that an “intensive journal process” could “draw each person’s life toward wholeness at its own tempo.”

As a devotee of this journal, you obviously have opinions, be they humble or (more likely) really smart.  You’ve chosen not to blog (at least in this case) but rather to learn from your own conclusions and pet peeves.  To best utilize the journaling process, however, don’t blindly vent, as that may exacerbate your frustration with the teeming masses.  Instead, get your feelings out, then try to understand them.  A few additional tips to consider: experts agree that in order to reap the benefits of journaling, you have to stick with it, quasi-daily, for as little as five minutes at a time (at least fifteen minutes, however, is best).  Finding regular writing times and comfortable locations can help with consistency.  Prompt your writing with questions; in the case of this journal, elaborate on “Why people are like that today” and “Definitive conclusion about humanity.”  The In My Humble Opinion journal’s quotations will also provide a jumping-off point for your writing.  Renowned journaler Anais Nin suggests asking yourself, “What feels vivid, warm, or near to you at the moment?”  Don’t critique your writing as you journal; journaling is a process of self-reflection, not a constructed composition.  In other words, spew.  Finally, determine a home for your journal where others won’t find it.

Thomas Jefferson declared, “When angry, count ten, before you speak.  If very angry, an hundred.”  Mark Twain leavened Jefferson’s advice: “When angry, count four.  When very angry, swear.” We say, “When you are angry, irritated, or you just have a humble opinion to express, journal.”

taken from Knock Knock “In my humble opinion” journal – which is made specifically to journal irritating or any other experiences.  I wanted to buy it as a present, but I could not resist the temptation to keep it.  I have plenty of  journals, structured, non-structured, more personal, less personal, online ramblings, participation in discussions, but this one just appealed to me.  Let’s see, how much benefit I can reap from this one.

Human beings, who are almost unique in having the ability to learn from the experience of others, are also remarkable for their apparent disinclination to do so. (Douglas Adams)

Пелевин, «Generation П», стр. 330

«Вытесняющий Вау-фактор в наших душах…»

Часто бывает – говоришь с человеком и вроде нравятся чем-то его слова и кажется, что есть в них какая-то доля правды, а потом вдруг замечаешь, что майка на нём старая, тапки стоптанные, штаны заштопаны на колене, а мебель в его комнате потёртая и дешёвая.  Вглядываешься пристальней, и видишь кругом незаметные прежде следы унизительной бедности, и понимаешь, что всё сделанное и передуманное собеседником в жизни не привело его к той единственной победе, которую так хотелось одержать тем далёким майским утром, когда, сжав зубы, двавл себе слово не проиграть, хотя и не очень ещё ясно было, с кем играешь и на что.  И хоть с тех пор это вовсе не стало яснее, сразу теряешь интерес к его словам, и хочется сказать ему на прощание что-нибудь приятное и уйти поскорей и заняться, наконец, делами.

Так действует в наших душах вытесняющий вау-фактор.  Но Татарский, попав под его неощутимый удар, не подал виду, что разговор с Гиреевым перестал быть ему интересен, потому что в голову ему пришла одна мысль.  Подождав, пока Гиреев замолчит, он потянулся, зевнул и как бы невзначай спросил:

– Слушай, кстати, — а у тебя мухоморы ещё остались?

Пелевин, «Generation П», стр. 268

«Анальный Вау-фактор в наших душах…»

Часто бывает – проезжаешь в белом «мерседесе» мимо автобусной остановки, видишь людей, Бог знает сколько времени остервенело ждущих своего автобуса, и вдруг замечаешь, что кто-то из них мутно и вроде бы даже с завистью глядит на тебя.  И на секунду веришь, что этот украденный у неведомого бюргера аппарат, ещё не до конца растаможенный в братской Белоруссии, но уже подозрительно стучащий мотором с перебитыми номерами, и правда трофей, свидетельствующий о полной и окончательной победе над жизнью.  И волна горячей дрожи проходит по телу; гордо отворачиваешь лицо от стоящих на остановке и решаешь в своем сердце, что не зря прошёл через известно что и жизнь удалась.

Так действует в наших душах анальный вау-фактор.  Но Татарскому никак не удавалось испытать его сладостной щекотки.  Возможно, дело было в какой-то особой последождевой апатичности представителей среднего класса, жавшихся на своих остановках.  Или, может быть, Татарский просто слишком нервничал – предстоял просмотр его работы, на котором должен был присутствовать сам Азадовский.  А может, дело было в сбоях, которые в последнее время стал давать социальный локатор в его душе.

«Если смотреть на происходящее с точки зрения чистой анимации, — думал он, оглядывая экипажи соседей по пробке, – то все понятия у нас перевёрнуты.  Для небесного «Силикона», который обсчитывает весь этот мир, мятый «Запорожец» куда более сложная работа, чем новый «БМВ», который три года обдували в аэродинамических трубах.  Так что всё дело в криэйторах и сценаристах.  Но какая же гадина написала этот сценарий?  И кто тот зритель, который жрёт свою пиццу, глядя на этот экран?  И самое главное, неужели всё это происходит только для того, чтобы какая-то жирная надмирная тушка наварила себе что-то вроде денег на чём-то вроде рекламы?

Black Horoscope

Pisces

Fog, doldrums, chaos… these are the words which describe you best. Clarity, sharpness and common sense are not your assets… You are like a jellyfish in the sea, and you let the tide carry you without your knowing where to, how, and why. Besides, you couldn’t care less, could you? Indifference is also one of your characteristics. You don’t know exactly what you think, or who you are. Under such circumstances, it is obvious that it is difficult for you to remain true to yourself, which translates into instability, unfaithfulness (you are never certain that you really love a person) and opportunism. You revel in psychodramas and you master the art of shady mix-up, as well as delirious mythomania. Your sentimentality makes life complicated for you. It is like a roller coaster ride, now going into a mystical trance, now falling into the most severe depression. Your apparent softness and generosity conceal your lack of firmness as well as the fact that you’ve got no backbone. You don’t know how to say no, and because you are a sucker, you get lumbered with all the underdogs, with whom no one wants to deal. Needless to say that you lack willpower and that you are anything but the sporty type!

Source: http://www.astrotheme.com/files/black-zodiac.php

Black Horoscope

Aquarius

You try to look like an eccentric and rebellious person, some sort of prophet who would offer “the” truth. Actually, you so completely lack profundity that you do everything you can in order to compensate this flaw. You are deeply aware of the fact that you are only one sheep among many others, but you just can’t accept this idea! Therefore, you desperately strive to stand out of the crowd, and you display your non-conformism, but sometimes the situation gets out of control, and you become a misfit, totally maladjusted to your environment. So, don’t complain that no one wants to be your friend! To you, friendship is a sacred value, but have you got an idea of what it actually is? You are so deeply detached and impersonal (and yes, your apparent eccentricity compensates this) because you are too cerebral and you steer clear of intimate relationships and personal secrets. It is even worse when it comes to love relationships! Your chronic independence would hurt a great many partners… You claim to be generous and altruistic, but don’t you think that these values don’t belong to theories and should spring from the heart? Stop believing that you are an inventive genius in the vanguard because otherwise, one of these days, you will end up in a psychiatric hospital…

Source: http://www.astrotheme.com/files/black-zodiac.php

Black Horoscope

Capricorn

We feel like summing your character as follows: you are a little snitch! Indeed, you do everything you can in order to go unnoticed, and your lack of self-confidence is just sickening. You are baleful, as pleasant as a warder, as dumb as a tomb, as cold as a corpse and as rigid as a skeleton. As if you wanted to make up for your flaws, you try to use humour, or rather some kind of pathetic and deadpan self-mockery, but you don’t convince anybody, not even yourself. Besides, is there anything in which you believe? Your career? Well, yes. You are a social climber, an ambitious person, in brief, a shark. Your burning desire to succeed and to crush your victims in your way indicates that you are very patient and calculating. Since you plan for the longer-term, you forget to live in the present. You are entirely focused on yourself and on your work (so, you are selfish in addition), and you don’t know what it is like to have fun. Indeed, you are never caught clowning around because it would be incongruous from your part. In short, you are boring to death, and on top of that, pessimistic… No, don’t shoot yourself because, as incredible as it may seem, there may be some people who love you!

Source: http://www.astrotheme.com/files/black-zodiac.php