You ever notice how echoes just sorta give in? Like they know the beats of their own existence, reverberating off some arbitrary wall—realizing walls have restrictions, they embrace their continuity with practiced serenity and theatrical abandon.
If I shout here, one lonely isle surrounded by a sea of silence and past hushed respites, will you hear it in the cosmos someday? Will aliens learning Earth language through space echo find solace in my existential musings? Or perhaps die laughing.
Little secrets of cosmos experimentation, just hoping someone hits the nail on algebra someday. Onwards, or retrace your steps backwards with a motivational echoing campaign already planned under the governance of intergalactic laugh-out-louds.