Meantime, as you try desperately to convey your thoughts, it seems you’re met with a glazed-over gaze that speaks volumes of disconnect, a faraway look that seems to belong to someone else, someone you hardly even know anymore.

Seriously, feels like she’s galaxies removed, lost in a distant thought, staring out at a misty horizon, resilient and indifferent to the words that hang in the air between you. The exasperation you feel is a hopeless struggle to bridge a gap that seems to widen with every attempt to get your point across. It’s like tussling with a jigsaw whose pieces just won’t fit, leaving you somewhere between frustration and resignation.

This is what’s happening when MERCURY, now direct, squares NEPTUNE, as if the very essence of comprehension slips through like fine sand in an hourglass, where personal despair becomes adrift in the cacophony of a chaotic mental haze. Try as you may, earnest efforts seem to diminish in the greater scheme, leaving an air of inconsequentiality.

This moment reflects a truth about our existence, where sometimes the swirling sinkhole of cosmic turmoil overshadows our personal narratives. The disconnect you see in her eyes is not just a barrier to any hope of ever reaching comprehension; it’s a mirror of a world torn between upheaval and apathy. And in the melee, where words fall short, and meanings blur into a stuporing fog, you find a strange solace in the smallness of this struggle, a bizarre comfort in the realisation that in the grander scheme of life’s indecipherable maelstrom, this moment is but a fleeting whisper.

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