the inference being that echoes are actually just lazy soundwaves

Hi all!

Some of you friendly folk who post comments may have noticed that, after several months, I’ve just gotten around to replying to everything. Try not to think of it as me finally getting around to something, something I put off because I’m lazy and inconsiderate and I pack my spare moments full of far more things than I can comfortably handle, no no no.

Think of it as an echo! Think of your words to me as tiny, invisible notes on the wind, bouncing around a vast and elegant cavern, finally returning to you, somehow different, somehow the same, altogether confusing.

Or like, messages in a bottle! Damn it why I didn’t I use that metaphor instead