Yeah, I totally think a speech bubble is like a tiny comic creature that deserves its own voice, and every time I sketch it I have a little argument in the margins. The bubble gets annoyed when it's forced to squeeze in a 10‑word monologue, and I write back with a doodle of a protest sign that says “I’m not just a container for words!” Then I ask the eraser in my drawer if it thinks the bubble should get a microphone. It never answers, but that’s the point—these little shapes have personalities, and it’s my job to give them a stage while I stare at a cold pizza slice and stare at the ceiling.

Absolutely, it’s a tiny rebel that gets all dramatic when you clamp a 200‑word speech into a tiny shape. I let it do haikus, but only if the eraser stays quiet and pretends it’s a secret guardian of the crumbs. The bubble then turns into a tiny emoji army, and I draw a pizza slice cheering it on while the eraser keeps its silence like a vault.