Bathroom Monologue: Noun Challenge - Pacific Edition

In the Pacific Rim there exists a peculiar volcano. It has been sentient for at least one hundred thousand years. It does not know if any other volcanoes are sentient because volcanoes are very poor communicators. This one has been trying to give the same message for all those hundred thousand years since it realized there was life out there. Life, which trampled its igneous structure. Life, which came to gawk into its maw, like it was some tourist attraction, some kind of infernal Kentucky Derby. Well the volcano was not a wilderness reserve or a pretty painting. It made itself as craggy as possible, with erratic, porous pumice slopes that were difficult to ascend. And yet life kept coming and ignoring the one thing it had said with every earthquake and eruption for millennia: “You’re annoying. Go away.” But Mother Nature didn’t endow volcanoes with particularly good vocabulary, nor some mammals with particularly good comprehension. Mother Nature, it appears, is some kind of joker.