Chapter 74
Chapter Seventy-Four
Private Message | EchoZone Internal Chat
From: DeadStrings
Subject: Re: Something So Strong
This Monday was better. Quieter, at least.
But yeah—the weekend was basically a rerun. Same shelter, Horace has been adopted, so I didn’t have to suffer when I left. Different soup kitchen, but same animal sanctuary, same aching back on Sunday night.
This is week two of what I’ve been calling “my new direction,” though I refuse to say resolutions. We both know what happens to those sometime around January 17th—especially the ones written while buzzed on sparkling cider and unbridled ambition.
This isn’t a checklist thing. It’s not about finding a new direction while proving that I can stick to a routine.
It’s . . . I don’t know. A contract with myself that I don’t want to break.
Trying to be a better person isn’t linear or poetic. It’s not even particularly inspiring. It’s a lot of early mornings, awkward conversations, and confronting all the stuff I used to bury under music, parties, and blackout weekends.
There’s this moment at the animal sanctuary where everything goes still. No noise. No conversation. Just you and the animal in front of you. And something shifts. You stop thinking about yourself so much. It’s oddly grounding. Even healing.
Which I didn’t expect.
Also—your list?
Flawless. I mean it. “Hold On” punched me in the nostalgia. “Express Yourself” made me smirk. And that Bon Jovi line? Okay, I’ve belted it. Loudly. Alone in the car.
You’re right—that key change could revive a flatlined heart.
Maybe I’ll make my own prayer playlist. Something I can press play on when my inner cynic starts getting mouthy.
But for now, I’ll borrow yours.
And maybe let myself believe I can be someone worth holding on for.
Thanks for the music.