I come home from a sunrise walk by the bay with my two dogs, have a nice breakfast with my family. I open up a message from a friend and there's just one link to BBC - I thought it was some Harry Potter thing or funny article.
"Amy Winehouse found dead at 27."
I swear, my jaw actually dropped open. What the hell? I just posted a picture of her on FB talking about how I wanted a Monroe piercing like hers. Only months ago they said she was going to release a new album this year or next year (finally!) Despite some rough patches, she's actually been to rehab and even Perez Hilton said she was looking much healthier and happier. And then...
I can't. Apparently I'm not supposed to be surprised, but I am. I was really hoping she'd get better, and I'm devastated anyway, whether I've seen it coming a mile away or not.
I've already heard of the shooting in Norway, and the train wreck in China. Somehow everyone just woke up to bad news today.
It's already been a hard past few months - I haven't been coming on because of my grandpa's death, a pregnancy scare, a stressful new job, some developing hermitism, and more than a couple of breakdowns. Still been writing though. I guess that's a plus.
I don't want it to sink in. I'm still holding out for an album to follow the flawlessness of Frank and Back to Black. So beautiful and talented; maybe she just thought she was invincible. I'll probably cry later, lol. What a surprise. This makes me want to get the Monroe even more.
Rest in peace, Wino.