Lost
Life is as tenuous as a soap bubble. One minute it's substantial, very real and visible, then it shifts and shivers at the edges, the colors swirl around the shape of the small pod of air. Before you expect it (it's always a surprise), the bubble loses all it's color leaving a transparent barrier between the air inside and the air outside. The bubble can only stay thus exposed for a matter of milliseconds before the air inside the weak shell is too much to bear. The film tears open, and the air escapes. But, where does the air go? What happens to the gas that was being so weakly protected, but also so preciously guarded by such a temporary material.
The bubbles soul – as it were- is tossed out into the cruel and aggressive world, where the only way it can continue it's existence is to create a weak protective shell. The worlds vicious eyes can penetrate it, but the weak souls eyes can't see out of it's protective casing. The soul lives in total and complete ignorance, totally unaware that the world continues without it. The shell it so dubiously chooses to hide behind, shields it from all evil, but along with that, depriving it of all good and pure experiences. Unknowingly, the soul falls into terrible repetition, giving it absolutely no new actions or experiences. Just the same dull repetition of the same life they had already lived. The defense mechanism leaving the lost soul completely and utterly unaware of the bitterness or pleasantness of the world.