June 20th at 10.52pm, Italian time, summer begins. And with it the most sensitive, creative, but also moody, tenacious, tough and panzer sign of the zodiac: the Cancer, son of the Moon, honorary citizen of fantasyland. So here is a semi-serious identikit of this sign, Cancer.
The ruling planet: Mother Moon
The element: Water (of the source, of the baptismal font, the only water of the zodiac which, unlike the marshy water of Scorpio and that of the great oceans of Pisces, can be drunk)
The lucky day: Monday
The lucky number: 4
The merits: the sense of welcome, the creativity, the affectionateness, the protectiveness, the big smile
The defects: the lycanthropic touchiness, the tendency to complain, the moodiness
The keywords: tenacity, ambition, career, economic security, imagination, love, parenting. And, above all, “I am very good, but when I realize that you don’t respect me or take advantage of me I become very, very… (you can’t say)”
The hidden desire: the fornicating partouze with an unknown number of partners, all brazen and without limits. Or relive a happy childhood…
It’s sensitive: to the thoughtfulness, to the little surprises, to the love films in front of which one becomes drooling and moved, to the looks of children, to the animals, to the carbonara
Love it: the house, the TV programs that talk about houses, your soft bed, the children, the sweets, preferably creamy, the sea, the boats, daydreaming, eating and sleeping. The astrological texts also say that he adores his mother more than any other sign of the zodiac. Which is mostly true, but just as often it has a very conflicting relationship with the maternal (and/or paternal) figure
He hates it: the abuse of the weak, those who invade one’s privacy, the insensitive, those who speak loudly and bullies in general whom they would gladly tear to pieces with their sharp claws
Favorite hobbies: writing, cooking, reading (especially fiction, biographies, books by
history, cooking, art, architecture, family sagas and historical novels), collect
old photos, sitting back, perhaps in nature, in front of the sea or with an ice cream
half a kilo
The ideal partners: a puppyish, cute, fornicious Taurus, a cuddly, hugging and belly-buttoned Capricorn
The best friend: the one who doesn’t insist, who doesn’t break and who respects him
the worst enemy: the dietician
Source: Vanity Fair
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