Just as I’m trying to unravel how this world, in July of the year 2025, mirrors retrograde Saturn in Aries, my husband turns to me and says, “Ozzy Osbourne has died.” It’s not the moment to ask how or from what, because life has been trying to kill Ozzy for decades and failing. But I did stare at one of the tiles behind the microwave, my mind drifting to Mama, I’m Coming Home. That song always sounded to me like a farewell for final goodbyes. Maybe it’s my Scorpio Moon, with its primal, morbid, yet archetypal connection between cradle and grave. Or maybe it’s just that so many will bid farewell to the Prince of Darkness with that very tune.

I’ve long noticed how people split into two camps: those who say, “When I die…” and those who say, “If I die…” Ozzy was firmly in the latter. Alongside Keith Richards. Both Sagittarians, but Ozzy had Capricorn rising.

“I wasn’t exactly much fun to be around. Being with me was like falling into an abyss.”
— Ozzy Osbourne, I Am Ozzy

Anyone with Capricorn rising who resonates with this quote from Ozzy is truly living their chart—their Self. To have Capricorn as your ascendant and not carry a shade of heaviness, grumbling, brooding, or pessimism—or at least that silent, unapproachable distance—is a sign of deep discontent, a stifling of one’s nature. Especially today. Fifty years ago, one in five might have borne that weight, but in today’s liberal capitalism, conformity, and chase for material pleasures, having this ascendant is a true challenge. It boils down to one word: Resist!

The first thing these people learn about the world they’re thrust into is that everyone pushes. Everyone lies. Everyone has hidden agendas. Everyone wants submission, secretly craving to be a slaveholder, and when given the chance to oppress, they seize it.

Pessimism becomes a shield against those prone to domination, but also against the soft, the cozy, the sentimental. Against the vulnerable, the populist, the disgustingly fickle—those who forgive everything, forget, and make people naive enough to become someone’s slave. Capricorn rising refuses to forget anything, and changing themselves? Out of the question. Want to hang out and have fun? “Sure, I’ll just bite the head off a bat first!” Think twice!

And so, Ozzy stayed Ozzy, though his songs softened with age. Perhaps his Capricorn Moon waited for its mature years to melt, emerging only when the world had drained its last drop of tenderness, leaving people like vampires without blood. Since the ‘90s, the world and its people had grown colder, lonelier, more tormented, darker, divided into slaves and masters. Only in that world did tenderness knock on the fortress of Ozzy’s heart. When there was someone left to hear it.

His final concert was a week before he passed—a gig, a “work-till-I-die” ethos, the portrait of his Saturn in Virgo in the 8th house.

“I’ll only retire the day I should be dead and they have me buried, and some idiot spells over my casket some stupid gospel stuff.”
— Ozzy Osbourne

Venus in Scorpio in a man’s chart is pure magic, like a spell cast on women. Even those who swore they’d never fall for him—he’s too ugly, too chaotic, too destructive—end up at my doorstep, aware they’re powerless against the current pulling them in. No yoga for cutting energetic cords, no karmic meditations, no Balkan shamans, no fear of disease, poverty, or loneliness can stop it. Because they were already broken before him. They just didn’t know it. So they’re the ones ready to dive into whirlpools where love and hate rage until the final day. Of course, my clients are enlightened, emancipated, craving something better for themselves. But when they don’t choose who they are, they choose the same thing in another form—solitude, waiting for a love that never comes. Back to Ozzy: those fateful whirlpools led him to Sharon. Daughter of Don Arden, the music manager who handled Black Sabbath’s affairs. When Ozzy was kicked out of the band, she became his manager, the one largely responsible for his solo career’s triumph and all that followed. She knew his light and his darkness better than anyone. The one he feared, as every man with Venus in Scorpio summons and craves what sends shivers down his spine.

“Even now, I have a lot of trouble understanding why Sharon stayed – or why she married me in the first place, come to think of it. I mean, she was actually afraid of me half the time. And the truth was I was afraid of me, too. Afraid of what I’d do to myself or, even worse, to someone else.”
— Ozzy Osbourne, I Am Ozzy

It’ll take time for the world to adjust to Ozzy’s absence. For me, a few vivid memories linger from the Belgrade Calling festival in 2012, when Ozzy Osbourne & Friends performed. Before him, that unforgettable day kicked off with Paradise Lost after lunch, followed by a wild lineup: Zakk Wylde, Black Label Society, The Cult, and finally Ozzy & Friends. Just like that night, I see him now, wherever he’s landed—in some quantum vortex or a prosaic green garden in a parallel universe, where his wife hangs laundry. With a steady step, free of Parkinson’s, he strides forward and roars:

“ARE YOU READY TO GO CRAZY?!”