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Amy Winehouse is dead.

I found out just a little while ago, when I sat down in front of my computer.

I read the headline on my homepage and it took my breath away.

And then I cried a little.

She wasn’t my friend.

She wasn’t even my favorite artist (th0ugh her talent was unmistakable)

She was a woman embroiled in a battle against the demons that plauged her

and I can relate to that

I know the cause of death has yet to be officially determined


I will dare to assume that her demise was a predictable one

and possibly avoidable

 (I say possibly, because even those of us in recovery know we are one drink or -insert addiction of choice- away from diaster, and still, some us just cannot ignore the siren call of self-destruction)

But knowing that she was headed towards tragedy

doesn’t make it any less painful for those who loved her

who lost her

who maybe gave up on her


I’m not trying to euologize her

that’s not my place


I am reminded (once again)


Addiction is the great equalizer

It can turn CEO’s into homeless vagabonds

Doctors into disgraced members of an unforgiving society

artists and poets and musicians into tortured souls

school teachers and interior designers into inmates

and when it takes us out

it doesn’t look back

it doesn’t say sorry

it doesn’t care who or what we leave behind

it shows no mercy

and it doesn’t give a $hit how rich or beautiful or smart or funny we (think) we are

And for every Amy Winehouse that makes it on the front page of Yahoo or CNN or MSNBC

there are thousands who perish silently



and I sit here

thinking about all of it

incredibly sad

kind of angry

a little bit unnerved

mostly though

i’m sitting here thinking

I’ll be damned

if I go out like that

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3 Replies to “Amy Winehouse Dies at 27”

  1. I am so sad too…I loved her music…I thought this might happen one day though..so sad…

  2. When you go out, you will have left your mark on countless people inspired by your words, your walk, your wisdom. Sadly, Amy’s mark just makes us shake our heads sadly – and wonder why she did not avail herself of the help she could easily have embraced. Can’t help but wonder if her “Rehab” song was a twisted cry for help…

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