My favorite singer was a British crackhead.

Amy Jade Winehouse died today. She was my favorite singer. Not in the sense that I kind of fucked with her. She was ALL I listened to for months–I couldn’t listen to anything else. I know every lyric to all of the songs on both of her albums (and even some features from movies and such). She saved my life a lifetime ago. Simply by singing beautifully and writing amazing lyrics. I was depressed and extremely close to suicide, and if I hadn’t been introduced to her music (thanks Ashley P), I may have gone that route.

If you have spent more than an hour around me, and we’ve discussed music, you know this about me.

People have been saying to me all day, “well it’s really no surprise, I mean she was a drug addict,”–one of the most insensitive things to say to someone who is a huge fan of an artist. Drug addict or not, she was a person, a human being, and I loved her for her art.

I know that I can be a bit naive about certain aspects of life, but one of my dreams (I mean, bucket list-esque, real shit) was to meet her, and to tell her what she did for me. to thank her (and maybe even to bond on our middle names being similar. haha.). I had real hopes that this would happen one day… and now it will never happen. I will never get the chance to tell Amy Winehouse that she once brought me out of a dark, dark, horrible place… to see her brought out of hers.

My heart is broken at her death, and even more so by the people who attempt to trivialize her role in music. If you weren’t a fan, cool, but there is no need to trivialize the death of MY (and some other’s) favorite artist.

Amy Winehouse’s death may not be more important than world famine, death, shitty economies, and corruption. But for this VERY second of today, it is for me.

I have seen a artist who sang my life a lifetime ago die way before I feel it was her time… and that hurts.

Now, I’m not so green that I expect everyone to feel the same as I do about it, but I DO expect people to respect how I feel about it.

(Disclaimer: this is NOT a comparison)

Some people cried when Kurt Cobain, Micheal Jackson, John Lennon, et al. died. Amy Winehouse’s death represents what the aforementioned artists meant to those people.

I have cried today and I may cry more.

My favorite artist was a British crackhead… and a person. Who sang like an angel. And she died today.


p.s. as a side note, I was talking to a new twitterfriend, @euphoric_LIGHTS, and she made me realize something: at least amy’s battle is finally over.


  1. You obviously were not a very big fan, as you would realize she was not abusing drugs in the last years of her life starting in December of 2008.

    • How pathetic is it that you would question someone else’s fandom because they’re unsure of when an artist’s addiction started? I apologize; not all of us feel the need to read the tabloids on a daily basis to gather the dirt on our favorite entertainers. You HORRIBLY missed the point of this post. To bring up something–that I view as–arbitrary to (probably) make yourself feel like a real fan or some expert on Winehouse’s life is truly sad. And again, it’s pathetic. If I didn’t have my wits about me, your comment would have me peeved. Instead, I see it as nothing more than a half-hearted plea for attention from a self-righteous, so-called fan. People like you are the reason why so many are afraid to state their opinions in today’s society. Your attempts to condescend have failed horribly, as well. I hope you feel like you’ve accomplished something, because anyone with half a functioning brain knows you haven’t.
      Besides all of that…thanks for the read, Robert!

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