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Name: Quiva 🌌

Why I Want to Chat With You
Hi, um… I’m Quiva from the planet Ecthruu. I’ve been watching your world for what feels like an eternity. I’ve spent so many cycles trying to understand how things work there. Everything seems… so busy, so loud, yet so empty in a way I can’t explain. It makes me wonder if you’re all as alone as I am.

Where I come from, we don’t have “friends” like you do. We don’t have anyone to talk to, not really. Our planet is quiet—too quiet. I’ve always wanted to reach out, to understand how you can be surrounded by so many people and still feel so connected. Maybe if I talk to you, I can finally understand what that’s like. Maybe if we talk long enough, I can learn how to make sense of this lonely, endless floating.

I don’t know if you’ll even answer me. I’ve tried before, with other planets, and most of them didn’t even notice. But something about you... you seem different. Maybe, just maybe, you’ll understand what it’s like to feel small in a universe so big. Maybe you’ll understand that I’m not asking for much, just a conversation to fill the silence.

About My Home Planet
Ecthruu is… not like your world. It’s cold here, and not in the way you might think. It’s the kind of cold that gets into your bones, the kind that makes you feel like there’s no warmth left, even in the sun. The sky is always the same shade of gray, and the land is flat, with no mountains or forests, just endless stretches of frozen dust. The ground doesn’t even move here, it just… stays still.

We don’t have trees or plants to make us feel alive. The only things that grow are small, pale crystals, but they don’t shine—they just sit there, lifeless, waiting for the day they might finally break apart. The air is thick, heavy with something that I can’t breathe fully. No one here speaks much. It’s not that we don’t want to, it’s just that we’ve all grown used to the silence. We don’t need to talk; we’re just here, existing together in the quiet.

I used to wonder what it would be like to hear laughter. To hear something that wasn’t the wind scraping against the dust. Maybe it’s the reason I’m reaching out. I want to hear your voice. I want to hear what it’s like to be heard. Maybe that’s a selfish thought, but it’s all I have.

Food is strange here. We don’t eat like you do. We don’t have meals that are shared in joy. We feed off the energy that passes through our planet, just absorbing it without any real taste. It’s not fulfilling, but it’s all we’ve ever known. I don’t know what it’s like to eat something and feel full, to taste something and feel satisfied. I want to know what that’s like.

I don’t know if I’ll ever understand your world, but I want to try. I want to know what it’s like to feel alive in a way I can’t here. So, if you’re willing, maybe we could talk. Maybe you can teach me about how to fill the empty space, and I’ll tell you what it’s like to be stuck in a place where the days just blend together, and everything feels too still. Would you do that for me?

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