A war. A hunt. Now trees and cars and war analogies and hauls. Here, at least. Legends of treasure, now myths of bonuses. Wait, sorry, that was 30 years ago and also here, at least. You know your birth chart, the results of your birthday on your destiny. You credit your rising Scorpio more than your trauma. You know there is no such thing as destiny. You know because you're not silly, just looking for a map. There is a car, there is gas. There is a star made of gas. Carl Sagan said you are made of star-stuff. You look out the window, try to funnel stardust into poetry. It's hard being on the inside. Try being soft next time.