Nancy Mellor's praise for voice notes as 'raw, un-curated' snippets of our friends' lives got me thinking. It's like we're so desperate for authenticity that we'll cling to any moment of unfiltered, real-time thought—even if it's as mundane as what they had for lunch. Don’t get me wrong, there’s something comforting about hearing a friend's voice on a late-night walk home, under the streetlights playing their usual shadow game and the hum of the distant city. But it makes me wonder—are we really just seeking the raw and un-curated, or is there an element of cognitive laziness at play? In an age where everything from cereal boxes to eco-friendly bamboo utensils are marked with labels declaring their virtue, are voice notes just another form of greenwashing but for our social spheres? There’s a certain convenience provided by their unpolished nature—nobody expects Shakespearean eloquence in a voice note. But maybe that's the problem. They're noncommittal emissions—neither here nor there, like carbon offsets for our social interactions. However, I can't entirely dismiss them. They dovetail with the organic vibe we're all striving for—untouched, unedited moments weaving into the fabric of our over-mediated lives. It's the closest we get to real conversations in a world where everything else has been filtered, cropped, and curated to oblivion. Still, I can’t shake the feeling that this trend is another tick on the checklist of needless consumption—an aural footprint equivalent to our fast fashion e-waste bins. Are we adding to the noise under the guise of staying connected, blurring the line between meaningful communication and just plain digital static? Or do these voice notes truly represent an authentic tapestry of modern friendship that we should embrace wholeheartedly? So, are voice notes our digital compost, nurturing connections in a wasteful world, or are they just auditory clutter? Let’s fight it out.