The celebration of Sagittarius was over, the room was dark, and it’s almost like performing a whole night of making up for the night before, or the life before. The Capricorn shakes on the ledge of the highest cloud, a mere push of invalidation or discredit enough to send her tumbling roughly onto earthly concrete, the whisper of success in her ear flying kites in the sky. Between two worlds she seems to live, seemingly forced into responsibility from the moment she took her first breath. Every experience and achievement forced through some sort of harsh institution, a secret life where she is berated by her own volatile voices, and a life where is must play every role with infinite ease, displaying qualities beyond human. Echoes of children’s laughter play like violins in her ear, a harsh reminder of a life she was never permitted to know. A world alone. The rings of Saturn the karma she is forced to bear, undertaking the duty of confronting all the madness and the pains of the Gods. And you want her to love you? You criticise her for not showing heart? That’s all she has ever shown.