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.
ChapterSeventy-Three
Private Message | EchoZone Internal Chat
From: StringTheory27
To: DeadStrings
Date: May 27th, 1997, 1:18 PM
Subject: Re: Something So Strong
I’mglad you got through the weekend.Honestly, I mean that.What you did sounds exhausting, yes—but also real.Not performative, not about checking boxes.Just living, trying, connecting.And sometimes that’s more meaningful than any perfectly executed plan to “be better.”
As for Crowded House?I have a soft spot for them.There’s something quietly determined in their songs.
“Don’t Dream It’s Over” gets all the credit, but “Something So Strong” always felt like the moment after the breakdown.They’re survival in major chords.And Neil Finn’s voice?There’s a grit beneath the polish that I’ve always admired.
Your message got me thinking—what are my top “I’m living on a prayer” songs?For when your fridge is empty, your heart feels like a crumpled receipt—and somehow, you still make it through the day.
So here’s my current playlist of barely-holding-it-together anthems:
Top 5 “I’m Living on a Prayer” Songs
(Yes, Bon Jovi is here—it would be illegal not to include them.)
“Livin’on a Prayer” —Bon Jovi
It’s obvious, I know.But you haven’t lived until you’ve shouted “Tommy used to work on the docks” with your whole chest at least once.It’s cheesy.It’s overplayed.It’s perfect.That key change could lift me out of a coma.
“Edge of Seventeen”—Stevie Nicks
That guitar riff alone could summon a thunderstorm.It’s grief, power, memory, and resolve all braided together.Stevie’s voice is all gravel and grace—piercing and prayerful.This is loss that crackles through your veins, rage tangled with heartbreak, memory refusing to fade quietly.
There’s something wild about this song.Like it was never meant to be tamed.
You hear it and suddenly you’re running—through wind, through memory, through all the moments you never got to say goodbye.It doesn’t ask for your sorrow.It demands you feel it, name it, and still keep moving.
The part where she repeats the white-winged dove—it’s not a metaphor.It’s a spell.
Something about the way she sings it—over and over—turns repetition into resurrection.“Edge of Seventeen” doesn’t offer comfort in the traditional sense.
It offers companionship—a furious, howling reminder that grief can be holy.That survival isn’t quiet.That sometimes, strength sounds like Stevie Nicks singing into the dark and daring it to answer back.
“Express Yourself”—Madonna
Anthem for the underestimated.It’s unapologetic.It says: You don’t have to settle for anything less than what you deserve.Which is kind of where I’m at lately.
“I Will Survive”—Gloria Gaynor
A classic because it is the standard.Yes, it’s disco.Yes, it’s dramatic.And yes, it makes me want to twirl in defiance while flipping off my past.
“Hold On”—Wilson Phillips
