This is where I rot - 11.10.2025

These are the bits of me I don’t say out loud. Some of them make no sense. Also TW

I wish I knew what’s wrong with me. Or you know what? I wish I knew why I won’t leap in the right direction, since I’m pretty damn sure I already know what’s wrong with me.

I’m far too drunk to be writing this, but here we go.

Today I had to pitch my project to the board. Fuck, it was awful. People say it was fine, but I was trying not to throw up the entire time. My khaki pants finally fit me, but ISTG you could read my ass in them like a map.

I was already pale as fuck and on the verge of collapsing when my boss handed me the clicker and said, “Echo will present the rest.” Honey, I thought you’d do more than the first damn slide. So I opened with, “Hi, I’m Echo. I’m currently battling my stomach, so if I turn fair as fuck and randomly collapse, don’t worry. In five minutes, I’ll get up and continue.”

Iconic? Maybe. Professional? Who the fuck knows or cares.

I sped through the whole damn thing and tried to be presentable. People said I was. But I had a whole different monologue in my head, and like always, I failed to deliver it. Miserably.

Afterwards, I met up with an old friend. We both decided to cry about how fucking miserable we are. So that was... healing? Not really.

Now I’m home, drunk, and let me tell you. It’s one of those nights. I’ve got wine in my glass, Adele in my ears, but not just any Adele. No. It’s the Rolling in the Deep a cappella version. Bare vocals and no filter. No barrier between her voice and my soul. I have full body shivers. Full. Fucking. Body.

I found a 360° view of the concert arena in Munich on Google Maps. I’m not crying. You are. That view hit me like a damn fucking train. I was happy there. Truly, entirely, ISTG fucking happy. I mean, I saw Adele. How could I not be happy? The woman that saved me was in front of me eyes.

I wish it was August 23rd, 2024 again.

I wish I had my long hair again. I miss using it like a blanket, like a fucking armor. Now I don’t even have that. All I have left is Adele. And this glass of wine. And the echo of who I used to be.

The kind of night where I realize how far I’ve drifted. The me from back then wasn’t this hollow. This collapsed sun.

Where did I go wrong?

Because I’m not like I used to be.

Now... I only soak up wine.

And I feel like the echo is growing weaker and weaker.

Echo out.