So many people stop at Neptune. We don't. We're right out there on the edge of the solar system. Pushing the boundaries. Pushing past even Pluto at the same time as we live it here on Earth.
The vast aloneness of this consciousness is actually mighty and comforting when you think about it. But trickling Plutonic consciousness down to the day-to-day, it becomes compacted somehow, heavy on the heart. Like a thick coating of irritating, energetic tar that we have to break down and shed again and again. Constantly doing whatever we can to make ourselves okay, so we're not consumed.
On a day-to-day level set in contrast to the busy, busy societal lives, the vast aloneness can start to eat away at you. The powerful, protective solitude can devolve into isolation, loneliness, alienation. Rage at those people who will never (could never?) understand what we understand. The blank, hollow realization of just how many of those people there really are. A feeling that there is something wrong...with them, with all of it.
Not having a friend in the world and knowing that this is true.
And that very fact giving us entry into the only group we could ever really feel akin to. Plutonic comrades joined by successfully meeting the demands of this consciousness. Alone, and joined through the aloneness.