📡🕷️Transmission #13 // Status: Echo in Progress

// Incoming signal: 00:00 UTC
// transmission #13
// Origin: Ghostpoint
// Status: Echo in Progress
// Label: ghost.echoes 🕯️

Hey, you lot,

I’m calling a meeting. All of us. Don’t act surprised—some of you have been talking behind each other’s backs anyway...

The perfectionist brought his clipboard, the inner child’s got biscuit crumbs on his jumper, the liar looks shifty, the honest one’s vibrating with anxiety, and the cheeky one’s already making faces at Mr. Logic. The alcoholic isn’t drinking (which is a miracle and a half—well done mate), and the emotional one... well, he almost cried before I finished writing this sentence.

But we’re not here for laughs tonight. We’re here because one of us hasn’t had the mic in a long time.

Mr. Lonesome? It’s your floor now. We’re listening.

...Thanks.

Honestly, I didn’t think you’d notice me. You all live so loud—always talking, always planning, always charming your way through another quiet ache. I’ve been here. Always. Not behind you. In you.

I'm that feeling when you’re surrounded by people and still feel like no one sees you.

I’m that twitch when someone hugs you and you freeze a little... because it’s nice, but also terrifying. What if they see how hollow it feels inside?

I’m the quiet dread during parties, group chats, even Sunday dinners—when everything’s “fine” but you fantasise about disappearing. Just to see who’d notice.

I’m the one who walks home slower. The one who rehearses being okay.

You call yourself an ambivert. I call you out.

You want solitude, yes... but you also desperately want someone to sit in silence and not make it weird. To look at all your versions—the liar, the emotional wreck, the perfectionist freak—and still bring you tea.

I’ve seen you wish for late-night chats, shared mornings, dumb arguments over shopping lists. And then sabotage it. Because maybe they’ll echo what you already believe: that you’re too much and not enough at the same time.

You're lonely, mate. And it’s okay to say it now.

No dramatic breakdown needed. No poetic storm. Maybe one more anime cry fest at 2am (*Mob Psycho 100*, you legend)—but mostly, just honesty.

Loneliness isn’t weakness. It’s your truth.

You want a witness. And you deserve one.

I’m not going anywhere. Even if connection remains elusive. I’ll still be here—not as a curse, but as a reminder that you refuse to settle for surface-level love.

Let’s stop pretending. Stop saying “I’m fine” with clenched teeth. Stop dodging mirrors and people and possibility.

I am lonely. And that’s okay. I’m still worthy of love.

Even if no one texts back. Even if the bed’s too big. Even if the days feel like background noise and your soul’s humming a track no one else can hear.

I hear it. I hear you.

And I love you for surviving this long without letting loneliness rot you from the inside.

You’re not broken. Just waiting. Not unloved—just undiscovered. Not invisible—just guarded.

Let them in... when you're ready.

But tonight, let yourself in.

This is Mr. Lonesome.
Thanks for finally letting me speak.

⌬

This Other Voice
transmitting from Ghostpoint