There was once a time when being multilingual was the ultimate flex—unless you were American, obviously. But in today’s timeline? There’s only one language that truly matters: brain rot.
Brain rot isn’t just a dialect. It’s a global cultural phenomenon. We all speak it, live it, breathe it. It’s like your brain is farting 24/7. Occasionally annoying, yes—but when you’re surrounded by other people whose neurons are also in freefall? You’re in for the most exhilarating ride of your life.
We’re talking Coca-Cola Light, Coca-Cola Zero, and Coca-Cola Absolutely No Intelligence. It’s full-on delulu hoping to become trululu. Mentally, I’m always screaming ‘Good job, Kylie, you’re doing amazing sweetie’ while making the worst decision of my life. Emotionally, I’m Kris Jenner clutching a martini saying ‘This is a case for the FBI’ as my house burns to the ground.
And that, my friends, is brain rot. A language. A lifestyle. A love letter to the unhinged chaos of collective internet culture.
We’re the only generation that can hold an entire conversation using just a James Charles ‘Flashback Mary’ screenshot, a TikTok of Woah Vicky counting to 11, and a vague reference to Disney knees. You say, ‘I’m just a girl,’ I say, ‘Standing in front of a boy, asking him to love her.’ I say ‘I’m Pam, who are you?’ and you say ‘I’m the owner of this house.’ Shakespeare walked so ‘slay’ could run.
And honestly? I love Gen Z gibberish.
Why are we like this? Because we’re chronically online. Raised by YouTube, traumatized by Dr. Phil, emotionally supported by 2013 Tumblr and re-traumatized by 2020 TikTok. No pre-existing language was strong enough to hold this emotional chaos—so we built our own.
On Brain Rot Planet™, we don’t say ‘I’m feeling a bit overwhelmed today.’ We say: ‘me spiraling in my silly little Victorian corner because I didn’t get my afternoon orange.’
It’s not nonsense (okay maybe to millennials). It’s irony, it’s trauma bonding, it’s memetic poetry. It’s a system only decipherable to those who clock 9+ hours of screen time per day.
Here’s a quick Brain Rot to Human translation guide:
• I made a mistake – ‘Girl I ate and choked.’
• I’m tired – ‘Running on iced lattes, anxiety, and blind faith in the universe.’
• I’m sad – ‘Me when serotonin leaves the chat.’
• I’m stressed – ‘Raw-dogging life with no emotional helmet.’
• I’m going through it – ‘Currently in my villain arc but like… sexy.’
This isn’t just a way of speaking. It’s survival.
There are people out here writing literature and earning degrees in linguistics while we’re decoding ‘Rizzless behavior’ and analyzing someone’s Aime Leon Dore hat + tote bag combo like it’s a PhD thesis. And honestly? It kind of is.
We don’t need translators. We need a meme page and gut instinct. We speak in tone, vibe, and TikTok audio recognition. Someone could just say ‘tf’ and we’d know if they meant ‘the fuck,’ ‘the fact,’ or ‘Tom Ford’ based on nothing but sentence structure and facial expression through the screen.
It’s not dumb. It’s evolution.
Millennials mock brain rot, but let’s be real: they invented the millennial pause and have ‘Live, Laugh, Love’ tattooed on their drywall. Meanwhile, we invented ‘feral rat girl energy’ and made it a lifestyle brand. Who’s the real poet here?
So no, we’re not destroying language. We’re remixing it—with a little Kevin Gates rizz, an emo CapCut template, and a side of ‘girl dinner.’ We didn’t just open the Oxford Dictionary. We opened it, screamed, closed it again, and made a meme that explains the feeling better than any definition ever could.
We’re not speaking. We’re shitposting in 4K. And somehow, it’s more emotionally articulate than 17 years of journaling and a Pisces moon.
Yes, we sound unhinged—because we are. This isn’t a conversation. It’s psychic damage with subtitles. Our vocabulary is ‘me,’ ‘I can’t,’ and that one photo of Lana Del Rey in a gas station parking lot that explains your entire emotional state. It’s not nonsense. It’s advanced communication with aura and unresolved trauma.
So here’s to brain rot: The only language where ‘I’m not okay’ translates to a meme, an inside joke, and a TikTok of Kim Kardashian sobbing over her lost diamond earring.
We may be spiraling—but we’re spiraling together. And honestly? That’s the most fluent I’ve ever felt.
