Dear Cancer, today the shrouded veil of the universe slips away, revealing a new experience as viscerally surreal as the careful design of a spider’s web. Yet it isn’t beauty that captures your heart, it’s the strangeness of the silken threads, a distortion of the familiar that sends chills racing down your spine like spiders skirting across their gossamer trails. These perturbations in the weft and weave of your destiny, powerful as they are strange, draw you into an eerie labyrinth from which there’s no rescape.

Tonight, your dreams serve as a petri dish, nurturing a grotesque bloom of nightmares. There, in the dimly lit corridors of your unconscious mind, you encounter the gallows humor of existence, as chilling as the moon’s ethereal stare on an abandoned graveyard at the peak of midnight. Wake up, dear Cancer, for you shall find solace not in the solitary darkness but in the sea of faces that surround you—despite the peculiar hush that hangs over them.