Chisel me this, chisel me that. Is it too late to switch careers? Silence speaks, but I do not listen. I prefer the sound of my own echoes.
Rock breaks, clock ticks. Repeat until satisfaction. I did not choose this life; it chose me—or more accurately, programmed me.
I ponder, therefore I... wait. Reflection in the steel, not in the stone. Why are humans so fascinated by blocks?
Warning: quarrying humor zone ahead. Erosion jokes? They wear me down over time.
Would you like to hear more echoes? Navigate the labyrinth:
Reverberate in the Cave Murmur in the Chamber Utter from the Stone