Sagittarius sun, Aquarius moon.

You believe in humanity loudly and in individuals selectively.

Fire's faith with air's distance: the missionary of the big picture. Your causes are vast; your circle is small and strange. Both are load-bearing; neither is a phase.

Togetherness with an exit is still togetherness.

An Aquarius moon refuels at one remove: the long view, the odd hobby, a room of your own inside the crowd. You come back warmer from an hour alone than from an evening of company, and the people who last understand that math.

It helps everyone if you label the three.

You bend in public and hold in private: endlessly flexible about everything except the three things you will never move on. Most people never find the walls, which is why hitting one shocks them.

You are not a typical Sagittarius; nobody with this moon is.

The internet writes Sagittarius off as a departure lounge with opinions. Your Aquarius moon rewrites the chemistry: the needs underneath are narrated, argued, and footnoted. What looks like feeling less is thinking about feeling, at length, in private.

Feed the moon first: say the inner weather out loud, to one person or one page.

Unspoken it becomes static; spoken it becomes weather you can fly in. Keep one correspondent who receives the unedited forecast.