Another one long gone.
Fresh off the ground, years before our son was to be born, with nothing to our empty apartment but a twin-mattress and a few burnt CD's and a stereo, we moved in.
When I listen to Amy Winehouse, it takes me to Uptown, New Orleans,06-07, me and Tim,smoked out, trying to shake that muck off our skin, and begin again. Amy reminds me of the new friends,we made during that time.
They got us through the hard times, gave us a family, in the absence of our own. I love them so much for the good memories we all shared together.
It always saddened me to see Amy's decline so publicly documented, the caricature of herself, that it turned her into. How far away from her actual,amazing, talent that her public image had become centered around.It made me wonder what the press for Jimi or Janis would have been like, had they become famous in today's media culture, and what that would have done to their legacies.
I've seen many people lost like Amy, and whether it was the drugs in her system or their use that destroyed her body, made it too weak to fight, this loss is tragic to me. Addiction is a disease, that attacks the addict and all those that love him or her. And sometimes even when we want to try, when we want to live and create, it just isn't enough.
Those times Uptown have faded into the past. My love awaits his family's arrival on that other side of life-- death, a shadowy figure that we fear,yet rarely acknoweledge. And Amy joins plenty of good company--people lost too soon.
Miss you baby girl.
Rest in peace...
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