In space, no one can hear you.
On Earth, no one wants to.
I suppose that's where it all started. Voices. When we realized we had them we used them for everything. The good, the bad, the vile. The voices spoke so loudly throughout time that when you listen to history all you hear is screaming and shouting. People believing they are important trying to shout the loudest. Whoever screams the loudest is the most important. Sometimes you scream loud, and then realize you're stuck in a vacuum. And no one can hear you.
The bubble I know the best is around my mind. It's a vacuum just like the void of space. Things come out and then disappear. You can't hear it but I can. It's my own brain. That's the problem. You cannot hear me. I am the loudest, the one who screams, but you cannot hear me because I am shouting in the wrong place. I am shouting to the void and only the void listens. The vacuum sucks it in and stores it away among all the secrets and nightmares I have deposited into it. It keeps them ranked and filed just to pull out whenever I need them the least. Thank you void.
The people with bubble voids around their heads are often the ones who shout the loudest. The people without the voids seems to shout louder because they have no bubble stopping their shouting. But all the people with voids know that they are louder. Louder minds build bigger voids. The void ever expands in order to contain all the shouting the bubble receives. Sometimes, but very scarcely, the bubble will leak. The void works to patch up the leak as fast as possible. It's hard to find. It's hard to find space in the void. The vastnesses of the void sinks into the space of space and all combine to compress themselves into a bubble beyond bursting around your head and it just stays there. It holds onto you for eternity and mocks you by shouting your own thoughts back at you and makes you wanna hate yourself forever. It has stars and moons and gas but they only thing it does is nothing. It takes and stores and takes and stores making you think you've thought everything possible when it's really an endless void. It can take it all and still have a hunger ravenous as ever.
It feeds on your thoughts, it feeds on your hopes and dreams and nightmares and moments. It sucks it all into itself and begs you for more. It's starving when it's full and satisfied for only the moment you tame it with a thought or a hope. It hates you, it loves you, and it so desperately doesn't want you to burst the bubble. That's why it hurts you when the bubble leaks. It hurts you bad and makes you wish you'd never said anything like that you idiot why would you say that you sound strange and no one wants you. It will tell you this every single time. The bubble won't pop until the drip finally stops. The drip stops when the bubble pops. The bubble will not pop. The drip will not stop. It devours and lusts and seeks until it consumes each inch of your mind until the drip is dry and the bubble is not popped but withered into a wrinkled piece of human flesh left behind on this stationary motionless earth.
All you can do is plug up the leaks with the void. It appreciates the help.
