They don’t get you? Blame the Mercury-Mars square

Mercury and Mars clash inside you. Words rush out too fast. You speak before you think. You want to be heard, but the message cuts. You mean honesty, but they hear anger. The space between thought and speech is gone. It leaves little room for softness or patience.

You feel urgency like a constant fire. The world moves slower than your mind. You push harder to catch their attention. They pull away from the heat. You raise your voice. They shut down. You try to explain, but the meaning slips. What you say and what they hear don’t match.

This gap grows lonely. You want connection but find distance. You are tired of softening your truth. Yet, your words often burn bridges. It’s not that you want to hurt—it’s that you can’t stop the rush’. Silence feels like losing. But speaking feels like fighting.

The lesson hides in stillness. In breathing before the storm. In learning that pause can carry power. Your fire isn’t wrong. It needs direction. Fire can burn or warm. Your voice can break or heal. The choice is yours.

You hold intensity like a weapon and a gift. You see clearly and speak boldly. But boldness needs care. The strength is in knowing when to strike and when to soften. When to speak loudly and when to listen quietly.

You are not too much. You are urgent, alive, restless. The world may not match your speed. That doesn’t make you wrong. You don’t have to change your fire—only guide it. Teach your words to comfort, not scorch. Then maybe, they will finally hear you.