Chapter 72
Chapter Seventy-Two
Private Message | EchoZone Internal Chat
From: DeadStrings
Subject: Re: Vague Alarms
It’s all good, of course, I’m okay.
The weekend was exhausting.
I went to a dog shelter on Friday. Cleaned cages, walked the shy ones, talked to the barkers like they were old friends.
Almost adopted this droopy-eyed mutt named Horace, but my sponsor talked me down.
Said I might be chasing responsibility for the wrong reasons.
He’s probably right—still feels like I left someone behind.
Saturday, I drove out to the wild animal sanctuary. Spent most of the day cleaning up the big cat enclosures. There’s this cougar named Lucille—she doesn’t like anyone, but she didn’t growl at me. Small wins.
Sunday was a soup kitchen in the morning.
The food line moved slow. Some people just wanted to talk.
Later, I tried leading a music session for kids at the shelter.
“Tried” is generous. One kid unplugged the amp on purpose every five minutes.
Another kept asking if we knew any Nirvana.
I didn’t get through to them. But maybe next time.
The whole weekend was a loop of giving pieces of myself away—energy, attention, whatever calm I had left. And weirdly, I didn’t miss any of it. I always thought giving was something you did when you had extra. Turns out, it’s also something you do when trying to refill what’s gone.
I’m not used to doing things that don’t pay back. Not in money. Not in praise. Not even in proof.
But this felt different. Not good, exactly—just necessary. It made me realize that I’ve been feeding the wrong parts of me for too long.
There’s this song:
“Something So Strong” —Crowded House
It’s not about what I did. But it feels like what I felt. That stubborn, sudden spark in your chest that reminds you: hey, maybe there’s something good left in you. Maybe it’s been there all along, just waiting for you to stop self-destructing long enough to notice.
I don’t know.
Monday still feels like a hangover from the weekend, but it’s different. No need for a beer and a greasy breakfast—or a line of cocaine to make it better.
Anyway.
Thanks for asking. Even vaguely alarmed, you’re still the best conversation I’ve had in days.