And I guess I'm just a mess and maybe I'm just lonely, or just bitter, but I know my head is a storm and my chest is empty.

''Vse kar si želim, je malo nežnosti, dotika toplih rok ob zori jutranji,...v objemu toplem se zbudim, a moje pa srce zdaj tava v temi...''

Do you ever wish the world would stop spinning? I don't mean the gravity and the sciency bullshit that comes with it. I mean the...I don't know ''poetic'' part of it? The please stop, so I can catch up part of it. Or do you ever wish the world would just disappear? Maybe just your world? Maybe just the people in it? Maybe you yourself wanna disappear? I don't even know no more, I just know things have been going from difficult to impossible lately. I often think that things can not get any worse, and I'm surprised each time when I fall to a whole new level of inferno. I don't know why and how but lately it feels like the only way is down, and it doesn't look like there's going to be a way up anymore. Ever. Everything is bleak. 

I don't know where I'm even going with this, don't ask. I just know I haven't been feeling alright in a long time. I know things haven't been alright in a long time. I know I've been blamed for things that are absolutely out of my control, and judged over things I can't change. And ridiculed for anything and everything and truth to be told it made me confused and it made me hate myself and it made me miserable and sad and lost. I don't know, nor do I understand what is it that I'm doing wrong. I don't see it, I don't get it. My brain, my mind works different, I don't know, I don't understand ''normal'' and nobody is willing to explain what's ''wrong'' with me. All I get is hatred. Hatred for not being another brick in the wall, hatred for being the black sheep in the heard. Hatred for not seeing the world the same way as others do, hatred for seeing maybe a couple more colors then the rest or maybe less colors then the rest. To me things are simple, black and white, good and bad. There are no shades of gray, especially when it comes to people. And I'm not saying I'm ideal or perfect. Just different. And I suppose that different is what's been destroying me bit by fucking bit. You know how they say you don't need to drink or smoke, how love will kill you bit by fucking bit? This is the same. Being pushed to the side, expendable, hated, being the ''spare'' one, misunderstood, unloved all my life. That's what's been killing me bit by fucking bit.

I honestly feel at this point I'm just around because murder is illegal, because how will you explain to people around you I disappeared? I'm not suicidal mind you, maybe just passively suicidal. Like I'm not going to slit my wrists but I also wont care if someone else does it type thing? I don't know. I'm tired. Tired of fighting, tired of being lonely, alone, tired of not having anyone team me, someone willing to fight for me. Mabye I'm too much of a romantic, maybe the whole being loved unconditionally, irrevocably, eternally, endlessly...maybe that only exists in my head. Maybe people don't do that no more, maybe they don't even know how. Maybe some people are not meant to belong, maybe some people are not meant to be loved but only exist. Maybe some people, some of us are just damaged beyond repair you know. Maybe when someone wanted to show us love and affection we'd not even understand what's going on. 

It's funny but...I mean it's not a lot I'm asking for, some understanding, that maybe just maybe I'm not like you. And maybe some...I don't know solidarity? Is that the word. To listen to me, not what people around me talk about me. And maybe I don't know stand up for me instead of being embarrased of me. And maybe just once tell me you care. I am basically three fucking decades years old and I have never in my life heard an ''I love you'' from a family member. Ever. No. All I got is screaming, yelling, anger, disappointment, mocking, laughter, degradation, swearing, cussing, insults, hits sometimes, and yet in the end...the fact that I am ''damaged'' is my fault. It's kinda funny because...you can't expect to bloom and get better in an environment that's making you sick right? 

I guess that's what I crave. Love. Understanding. Devotion. Things I never knew in my life. Maybe that's why I keep going back to people that hurt me, for that small fraction of love that they did show me. However fake it was or wasn't. Maybe that's why I prefer staying silent and not speaking at all because all I know is to be quiet. Shut up and don't speak, your opinion is stupid and invalid because it's different. Because you don't fly with the flock and don't swim with the fish. Maybe that's why I don't know how to talk to people? Maybe that's also why I don't want to talk to people? Why waste my time when they won't care anyway? Maybe that's also why I'm so used to pain because when I wanted love, pain was all I got. Maybe that's why I love an illusion because an illusion can't hurt me, someone who can remain perfect in my mind. Always. Because I'll never know the truth anyways and that's safe. Comforting. 

You know that line ''my darling, you hold so much sadness in your eyes, I can almost touch the scars of your soul and cry''? Kinda like that. And I wonder at which point is it too late to put your life, heart, soul, body back together? What if some pieces are just lost and you'll never be whole again? What if there's just nothing worth fighting for no more? I wonder...why would I even want to get better? Physically, mentally...why? What for? In a world that doesn't love you, in a world that doesn't understand you...why? The irony is that the only person you should put yourself back together is you, but if you give up on yourself...what's the point? And what's the point fighting for love if you're the only one fighting....and what's the point if all you get in return is...I don't even know but it seems to me it makes no difference if I was alive or dead, most days. 

As I said above, I'm not suicidal, I just wish I stopped existing. Does that make sense? Nothing does no more, nothing makes sense, the light is lost, the passion is lost, the beauty is lost. I look at the sky and see a graveyard of stars not an endless sea of possibilty. I see endings not beginings. I see pain. And despair. Sigh. And all I long for is something to change, but am powerless to do so. Or maybe my newest health issues are some sorta sign from above. Maybe someone is telling me to just give up fighting at some point. I don't know no more. 

Ignore me, I guess this is nothing a glass (or a bottle, or two) of wine can't fix. In the mean time, I'll be back sitting at the graveyard, drawing. Maybe I'm a better ghost than a human being anyway. 

When suddenly, all the sad songs are not sad enough.

What the hell am I supposed to say, when I'm all choked up and you're okay? The Script sing something along those lines. This blog was supposed to be a music blog from the get go, never too personal, never political, never more than, well actually art. All types of it. But more times than not I stray from that. I stray from it because I can't keep silent on things that annoy me, things that hurt me, move me...that's just life isn't it? The problem is finding words to express anything sometimes. Sometimes it hurts too much, sometimes everything is too much. All the words I can't seem to find, in the lyrics of my currently most played ( and in most cases favorite ) songs. It's true what they say aint it? When the world falls silent, the music speaks. I may do this more often. Write down playlists. I guess these are my sad songs, but, like the title says, they don't seem to be sad enough today. 

Nazareth - Love hurts

White Lion - Wait

Def Leppard - When love and hate collide

Lee Brice - One of them girls

Sam Hunt - Break up in a small town

Luke Combs - Hurricane

Jimi Hendrix - The wind cried Mary

Aerosmith - You see me crying

Cheap Trick - The flame

The Doors - The end

Eagles - I can't tell you why

Black Sabbath - Changes

The Rolling stones - Wild horses

Led Zeppelin - All of my love

Motley Crue - You're all I need

Jeff Buckley - Hallelujah

Prince - Nothing compares 2 U

Johnny Cash - Hurt

Florida Georgia Line - May we all

Linkin Park - One more light

My Chemical romance - The light behind your eyes

INXS - Never tear us apart

Chris Isaac - Wicked game

Bruce Springsteen - Miracle

Guns N' Roses - Don't cry

Shinedown - Second chance

Skid Row - I remember you

Elvis Presley - It's now or never

Aerosmith - What it takes

Aerosmith - What could have been love

Roxette - It must have been love

Daughtry - Life after you

INXS - By my side

Scorpions - Wind of change

Ozzy Osbourne - Road to nowhere

Def Leppard - Bringin' on the heartbreak

Journey - Separate ways

Queen - Save me

Bon Jovi - These days

Bon Jovi - Letting you go

Opća Opasnost - Pobjego sam

Leteći Odred - Hajde reci mi

Keith Urban - You'll think of me

Cole Swindell - Break up in the end

Jason Aldean - Who's kissing you tonight

Blake Shelton - Everytime I hear that song

Van Halen - Not enough 

Cinderella - Don't know what you got

Warrant - Sometimes she cries

I need perfection, some twisted selection, that tangles me, to keep me alive.

How are we feeling guys? I don't know what day it is. I don't know what week it is. I don't know what planet I'm on…I am legit going crazy. I do live in ''quarantine'' and ''self isolation'' everyday. I don't like people, I tend to avoid them, I don't do ''hanging out'' or parties. But this? This is hell. Not only that the house is ALWAYS full because everyone is at home ALL THE TIME and I'm just like every regular house cat, wondering what the fuck are humans doing in my house every day, but also, people are going completely insane and I am not sure how much more of this madness I can take. The hysteria which I mostly blame media sensatiolation for? Oh my god. Literaly people are acting like rabid animals. I think I'm giving up on walks too because the glares, the sheer rudness. Hell. I was never a people person but after this I'm certain I will completely despise them. 

So in that respect, I decided to lie on my couch today, watching whatever brainless TV show I could find. TV is also hopless these days. It's no longer the news, the music videos, the funny shows, it's just ''good day corona''. Even fucking commercials are based around corona. It's really unbearable. Can you picture me rolling my eyes all the way back into my skull right now? Ugh. So while flipping through channels and watching an episode of Dr. Jeff (a saint that man) I come across the movie Mystify on HBO (thank you HBO I legit cried through the entire thing). I've been  on a hunt to get a DVD (still am despite seeing it) since it came out last year. It's no secret I love INXS, Michael as a person as well. He was something special, different, smart, kinda shy which is an interesting trait for a rockstar, and attractive. Boy, was he good looking. 

Here's the deal despite huge huge success INXS was a very underrated band. They would of deserved much more attention than they got. After KICK things just sorta spiraled. And Michael deserved better. How come the nicest people, the kindest, the purest souls hurt the most? Maybe that's just it, you're too good and too kind so the world just has to crush you. I was actually literally distraught over some of the rumours surrounding his death. Saying it's a crazy sexual game gone wrong, which aparently is proven by the fact that he left no suicide note. I'm sorry but that is literally no proof for me, many people leave no note. Way to downplay what a horrible, leathal disease depression actually is. 

I knew Hutch had his own demons he battled. I know his relationship with his brother and later with Paula and the kids was eating at him, but what I didn't know is that he suffered permanent brain damage after an ''incident''. A man punched him and he hit his head pretty hard on the concrete sidewalk. It seems like this was something he didn't want the public, or even his family to know. I can't help but wonder if it's right that the world knows now…maybe it was his secret to live and die with. But I guess, a brain injury this severe explains depression, explains agression and even the change in behaviour anyone who paid any attention to interviews and live shows can see.  I guess I can't help the heart ache this makes me feel. I can't help wishing someone would and could help him. 

Hutch was a bright light in this fucked up world and to think someone who brings so much happiness to so many people is dealing with his own struggle so severe. God if that doesn't rip out your heart…

Everyone described him as having this charisma and aura, this appeal about him, pure and kind. That he could make you feel like you were the only person on the planet, and could listen, really listen and make you feel heard and understood. 

He was a genius. Period. The lyrics he wrote…I have yet to hear a more heartrending song than ''Never tear us apart''. God it's beautiful. And that music video. It's just him, walking the streets of Prague, but it's just something about it…I don't know. It's perfect. 

Mystify is a good movie because the story is told from people close to him, some by Hutch himself. There's a good deal of home movies, preformance clips, interviews, things I never saw before, so for  a fan it's a must see I'd say. For a non fan or just someone who enjoys the music without extra ''fan baggage'' I'd say it's still an interesting story about how a star that soars that high can fall that low. A thousand times seen story to be honest but heartbreaking never the less.

The moment which made me despise Oasis is featured in this movie. I guess I might explain it now why I tend to turn off the radio when they play Oasis. In 1996 there was an award show. Brit Awards. And by the time I suppose INXS were nowhere near the popularity they had when KICK came out. Shame. They deserved better as I said before, but this is not the point. Out of many presenters Michael was one. He presented the ''best video'' winner, which happened to be Oasis. And out of ALL,  EVERY FUCKING WORD IN ENGLISH FUCKING LANGUAGE, all the people he could thank, all the gratitude to even stand on that stage he could have expressed, major dick Noel Gallagher said ''has beens shouldn't present fucking awards to gonnabes''.  Oh my god you pretentious bastard. A janitor could have given you an award he's no less of a person than you are. Problem is, Michael tried to downplay it, say he doesn't care but it was obvious those words crushed him and really, nobody deserves being treated this way. Not a single soul. My point here is, you never know what demons someone is battling, just because they're smiling it doesn't mean they're happy. And you can never know what kinda damage your filthy mouth can bring, so if you got nothing nice to say, seriously shut the fuck up, this goes double for people in the limelight who have all the power to make a good difference or to crush someone completely. 

Of course after this incidend and the album ''Elegantly wasted'' pretty much failing it was no wonder Michaels depression only got worse. A gentle soul can only take so much hell before they break. 

This documetary took ten years to make and it's obvious why. It's full of love, it's clear it was made with love, by people who loved him. It's bittersweet now, watching the clips of those home videos, from happy times. I suppose all of us can relate, going back to times when we were carefree, happy, life was good and then somewhere along the way we just lost our way. We lost hope. We lost meaning sort of.  In a way we can all relate to the misunderstood music icon, who actually has this persona or a rock god, an icon but underneath it all it was a loving gentle soul that had nothing snooby or celeb like on him. 

Above it all, Hutch had the most amazing voice. I don't think he even realised how talented he was, he felt sort of threathened if you will by giants like U2, but the thing is, Bono may be Bono (respect, another amazing human being) but to me it's actually him who will never reach up to Hutchs talent or charisma. Don't even try to argue with me, this is my personal opinion, I will always pick INXS over U2. And after all it was Bono who was greatly impressed by Hutch, said he was the definition of Rock n Roll. I don't think there's any higher compliment, specially if it comes from someone like Bono. 

Another thing I love about him or the band really, is their passionate protesting against nuclear missile testing. If you pay attention to the ''Mediate'' video you can see a cue card with numbers ''9.8.1945''. They are not random, they refer to august 9th 1945 when an atomic bomb was dropped on Nagasaki.

I was drawn to Hutch for the first time when reading one of my dads old issues of Playboy. Don't even ask, fact is Playboy has really good articles and very tasteful nudes. He had a cheeky interview in it in 1993. And all the questions about what he likes in bed aside there was one question ''what do you find appalling?'' and his reply was;

''The American attitude towards women. The whole way they talk about sex. You know: ''lets get some pussy''. Jesus! Pussy is a great word, whenever you mean your cat, but for a woman…no! Not to speak about a woman's genitals! They can be so stupid. Americans are not real. They fake as it they're emancipated. An American man can sit and listen to a woman as if she's Einstein…but as soon as she turns around he whispers: ''Look at her arse!''. The philosophy of American men is: ''We are prepared to do anything to get a woman into our bed, even pretending to treat her as an equal''.

Hating americans and being a feminist in one reply. Obviously I get heart palpitations. He was one of a kind. They don't make them like him no more. I guess besides loving his persona and music, the topic of what happened to him really hits home for several reasons. Maybe I can't help thinking that each such death could be prevented if people just learned to be nicer, kinder, more compassionate, more humane above all. 

The documentary Mystify ends with Hutch and Andrew Farris sitting behind a piano, playing around with notes that would later become the song Mystify. It's a sort of bittersweet moment, or more a painfull reminder of just what the two were capable of doing together. We all know the band wanted to move forward with new singers but they never came close not to the persona and not to the voice. Something was missing and we all felt it. The ending is fitting, it illustrates the perfect image, what it's after all all about, music. It begins and ends with music. 

Baby, blue ain't your color.

''I can see you over there staring at your drink, watchin' that ice sink all alone tonight. And chances are you're sittin' here in this bar 'cause he ain't gonna treat you right, well, it's probably not my place but I'm gonna say it anyway 'cause you look like, you haven't felt the fire, had a little fun, hadn't had a smile in a little while. Baby, blue looks good on the sky, looks good on that neon buzzin' on the wall, but darling, it don't match your eyes. I'm tellin' you, you don't need that guy, it's so black and white, he's stealin' your thunder, baby, blue ain't your color...''

Do you ever think about what you're afraid of?

I didn't. I never feared many things. Except the same old worn out things like most people do. Small spaces. Spiders. Snakes. Being alone, well not alone, I like being alone. Being lonely. Yeah lonely sucks. And never making it in life. Building a career, a home, a life. Things have been falling apart lately. Falling apart badly. Everything I touch feels like it's crumbling to dust. Like Thanos snapped his fingers and my life was suddenly in ruins. Left me wondering, can I be like the Avengers? Can I pick myself up and rebuild? That's what I'm afraid of. That I'll never recover. That I'll never be whole again.

I honestly don't know what was happening for the most of last year. It's like a blur of emotion. I constantly feel like I'm on a roller coaster, stuck in that moment when it climbs up just before it's about to drop. Or like standing in the middle of a tornado and the world is a blurry swirling mess around you. And I am so tired. Tired of pretending. Getting up in the morning, getting dressed and trying to function normally when my life is anything but normal. I know life goes on, I know time stops for nobody but all I get is angry because I feel like nobody really understands what's it like. How much it hurts. How hard it really is. How could they? Why should they?

And you know what's the only thing that grounds me during those god awful moments? Memories. Happy ones. I may not have many but some…well some are pretty amazing. I wanted to share one with you guys. Well I wanted to write it down so I don't forget. It's a precious memory. I never knew how much it could mean to me some day.

You know ever since I was a little girl all I remember ever wanting was a dog. Every birthday, every Christmas all I asked for was a puppy. And my parents always found excuses. There was always something, too young, dogs are a huge responsibility, we don't have the time, we don't have the space,…but you know me stubborn as I am, I kept begging and begging. And well I was about 13 when that wish was granted. It was a reward for all perfect grades in school.

Dad did some research and found people that sold Golden retriever puppies. I won't ever forget the day we went to see the puppies. There was about eleven puppies running around the garden. If you ever think that there's a happier place on earth than sitting on the ground with puppies jumping all over you then you are dead wrong. I was supposed to pick which one I wanted. How could you pick? I'd take them all if I could. But then there was this puppy, and she chose me, refused to leave my lap and honestly it was love on first sight. I knew we were meant to be.

We could pick her up about two weeks later and in that time we were in full preparation state. I doubt dad and I would go to such lengths for a baby as we did for that dog. Toys, collars, blankets, dog house. Even ''baby proofing'' the garden, garage and the house. The whole deal.

The most precious memory, the one I never will or say never want to forget, was the day we brought her home. Dad and I had our problems but he was a good man and he tried hard to make everything perfect that day because he knew how important this was for me. What a big deal it was. What a huge wish come true it was. He knew that in that moment, in that time, there was absolutely nothing on this planet that would make me happier then a dog would. I think he was proud of himself to be able to grant me that wish.

In case you don't know separating puppies from their mothers means they can howl and cry the first few nights. So my dad came to the brilliant idea, we're not going to take the dog in the house so we don't spoil her, we'll just sleep outside instead. Brilliant. He gets in the car and goes buy a tent and sleeping bags. Lets do full on camping on our backyard. This was actually my first time camping, and I might have imagined it to be somewhere more ''posh'' say on Rock am Ring or something along those lines, but to be fair I'd not change this experience for 1000 Rock am Rings even if I'd get to share a tent with Axl Rose himself.

You'd enjoy the comedy of two idiots building a tent way too much trust me. Said ''easy, fast'' build on the bag. Yeah…that never happened. Not the easy and not the fast part. We spent all damn day and quite some blood, sweat and tears to get it to stand. News flash, getting tangled up in tent fabric is not at all pleasant.

In the middle of that assembly we go to pick up our dog. I chewed my nails raw and bloody. Couldn't wait for it. Let me tell you something. If you think putting up a tent is hard, putting it up with a puppy tugging the tent and the construction of the tent and tripping over your feet…well that makes it completely impossible.

Hours later, a lot of nerves later, the thing was up. A huge nice thing. With three separate compartments.  So camping means grill as well. Eating outside. The entire thing. And do you know how sleeping with a puppy looks like? Outside? In a tent? With a brace and a leash on her and me (because she wouldn't stay still and we used to live near a very high traffic road). Woke up with her head on my cheek and drool pouring down my entire face on the blanket under us. And you know what? I wouldn't change the smallest detail.

Life was so simple back then. We were happy. Sure there were problems, there were arguments. Who doesn't have those? But nothing was like it is now. I don't know when things turned to so bad, to such a disaster. I can't imagine what I could have done to deserve all the developments that happened in my family in the past year. Maybe I wasn't enough, maybe I'm just a bad person. Maybe I am worthless and deserve all this. Maybe, maybe maybe.

Or maybe, it's not me, maybe it's them, maybe I'm a good person that had bad things happen to her. All the ''what if's'' all the ''whys'' all the bullshit is about to drive me half insane, but then I can't help but go over every single small detail in my head at night. What caused it, why, what could I do to prevent it? What could I do…

All I can honestly say is that, nobody ever hurt me as much as my own family hurt me. Nobody caused me that much pain and sorrow and heartache and tears as they did. Nobody ever treated me as badly as they did and believe me people treated me bad.

It's hard you know, family was always important to me. I used to say when I'm older I'm getting a ''family first'' tattoo, because in theory your family are the people you can go to when everything is wrong, to help you, to support you or to just make things bearable. And when all that falls apart, because there's something always more important, money, greed, possesions, it tears families apart. That hurts. The funny part is. I don't care about money, I'd give all the money on the planet, for just one moment with the ones I love and lost. But not everyone is like me. People would kill for less so why am I surprised? Why do I bother and care? Why can't I shut it all down and get some sleep at night?

The only thing I do know today, is that one of the most unhealthiest things I could possibly be doing is bow down, cave in, or worse fight for my family's approval. I will never be what they want, I will never be good enough and no matter what I do I will never make them hate me any less. All I would do is make myself even more miserable than I already am in the process. It's not worth it. Cutting out poisonous people in your life is the best thing for self growth you can do. You don't deserve all the pain, you don't deserve all the heartbreak and you don't deserve the hell people put your through for their own benefit and out of their own greed.

What I can do is learn to live independently. To learn to land on my own two feet no matter what life throws at me. To be strong. To be dependant just on myself and nobody else. It's a lonely life but to be fair better lonely than spend it with people who hate me, people who hurt me, people who do nothing but put me down, make me feel worthless, make me hate myself.

And to be fair, after everything, after so much pain, after so much grief, I deserve some love. I deserve to learn to love myself, to love my life, no matter how messy it may be. And if that doesn't work, then I deserve to have the chance to change what hurts, to cut people who hurt me out, to grow and change and just fucking try to be happy untill I actually am.

Avengers won in the end, they rebuilt and restored, Captain America despite all odds, despite living seventy years apart, he made it, him and Carter lived happily ever after. So why can't I?

''Well, I've had enough to drink and it's makin' me think that I just might tell you if I were a painter I wouldn't change ya, I'd just paint you bright baby, 'cause blue looks good on the sky, looks good on that neon buzzin' on the wall but darling, it don't match your eyes. I'm tellin' you, you don't need that guy, it's so black and white, he's stealin' your thunder, baby, blue ain't your color...''

I've become so numb, I can't feel you there, become so tired, so much more aware...

''What’s the worst thing I’ve stolen? Probably little pieces of other people’s lives. Where I’ve either wasted their time or hurt them in some way. That’s the worst thing you can steal, the time of other people. You just can’t get that back.''

- Chester Bennington

He's right aint he? That's something he can never get back. As is the time you've wasted on people that weren't worth your time, your attention, your love. It's crazy how we function. Like that one line says ''we accept the love we think we deserve''...

But Chester didn't steal our time. Only another part of us we'll never get back. Our love, affection, a piece of our hearts...

I won't ever be able to explain this, it's a different kind of love, different kind of affection. I can't explain it to people that never felt it, why almost two years later I still miss him, it still hurts, it still sucks. And I'm pretty sure this won't ever change. I will always love him, I'll always miss him. Like a best friend. Like a part of me I won't ever get back. Thing is, things happened in my life that had my heart shattered into pieces so tiny they could pass through a hole in a needle, and then losing one of my biggest heroes, a man who's words and music I grew up with, a man who made me feel like I'm not alone and like I'm strong enough to keep going even when all I really wanted was to give up...well that felt like a freezing wind blowing over and taking those tiny pieces with it.

It hurts. It's not fair. And it's just like losing any other person that I knew personally, since people so love to use the line ''but you didn't even know him''. Who the hell cares if I knew him or if I didn't. His music was very personal, very honest, in a way we all knew him. In a way he exposed his darkest thoughts with us. And to be quite honest, even in the shape and form he was present in my life, he did more for me than most other people did. He was a better friend than most my friends were.

It's something else entirely, putting an album on, letting it play, losing yourself in the lyrics and just knowing, there's at least one person out there that understands 100% just how hard some things are, how impossible picking yourself up from the ground is and just how hard it is to move on after being completely defeated.

What's missing is not just an amazing musician and an amazing person, but also an amazing teacher who taught us all how to be fearless, how to be passionate about whatever the hell we love doing even if the entire world thinks it's stupid. He taught us that struggles don't define your life, and that just because someone's are harder that doesn't mean yours are any less important. And the most important lesson he gave us? Love. How important it is to love each other. How important it is to spread love, how love can defeat hate. In one of his last shows, he talked about the tragedy in Manchester, he said;

''Real quick, before we get into this next song, I've come down there and sang with all my friends. I just want to make sure before we leave and go back home, that we pay our respect and share some of our love and our prayers for the families and the victims of the tragedy at the Manchester Arena. My heart has never been broken so much, until the day I found out that that tragedy happened. And since that day I've been wearing these little earrings with the bees in 'em, I know that’s a symbol of strength and hope in the city of Manchester. And I'm gonna keep these in, I'm gonna keep these in, until all this nonsense stops and we can start loving each other, we can stop hurting each other, because we believe in something different, than the person standing next to us. The one thing that can’t be defeated is love, right? You can conquer hate by ignoring it, you can destroy it by loving the person next to you. So I want everybody here tonight to look at the person standing next to you and just tell 'em that you love 'em and you are happy that they're here with you tonight, having a good time. Listening to music. Celebrating life. We don't care what you look like, we don't care where you come from, we don't care what you believe in. We love every single one of you out there, and nothing will ever change that. With that said, let's sing some songs together.''

These are words to live by. We tell each other how we feel too little. We hate too much and not love enough. We let our pride and fear cloud our real emotions. Telling someone you love them, care about them, compliment them, it's such a small thing to do, and it feels like it's nothing, but, not only you don't really know how many more chances to do just that you have, it's a small thing that might change someone's day, hell life. Someone might be going through a really rough day, rough patch, and a nice word is more than uplifting.

Funny thing is, he wouldn't even want us to feel this way, to feel sad each time their song comes on the radio, to feel broken watching their videos. But I can't help it, there won't ever be a day when I can look at them and be okay with it, a day when it won't make me sad...when their last album came out, I wasn't really convinced, never gave it a real chance to be fair. Never fully listened. It was so different and I suppose I loved the old Linkin Park too much. So when they came close enough on tour for me to go, I said to myself, I've already seen them so I'm just going to catch them on their next tour with another album. And now, I doubt there's many things in my life that I will regeret as much.

Later when I let myself truly listen to ''One more light'' I realised how much I loved it. Every single song on it. They are perfect. They sound different yes but they are perfect non the less. Songs like One more light, Heavy which is mostly misunderstood, it's not depressing it's uplifting, Good goodbye, Nobody can save me, Battle Symphony...they seem to all make sense now, and they're honestly hard to listen to. Maybe we didn't notice before, but now they feel like a cry for help, and I just can't help but wonder...what if? Was there something we could of done? Unlikely I know...but just...I wish somebody could help him.

''Should've stayed. Were there signs I ignored? Can I help you not to hurt anymore? We saw brilliance when the world was asleep, there are things that we can have but can't keep...''

Chaz and his band is that one constant in my life that I just can't really bring myself to say goodbye to. At all. Like Supernatural. Going through my old things, you can see photos of their posters on the walls of my old rooms, actually I still have one of Chester just above my bed, hard to look at but I can't bring myself to tear it down. There's logos all over my old text books, bands shirts, their names are even on a pair of my first (awfully worn) red Converse. It's just...they became a part of me over the years, a part of who I was, a band that defined me...

I won't ever be okay with what happened. I can't honestly even use the word suicide together with his name, feels like a nasty swear word. I think an accident would of been easier. Or I don't know a sickness, even if I couldn't stand him suffer more than he clearly had to.

I don't believe in another lives, I don't believe in heaven or hell, but just to make it easier on myself, to let me get some sleep at night, I have to think there's something somewhere, a better place. Maybe not heaven but something of the sort. I have to believe that everyone I loved and lost is there, happier than they were down here among us, as horrible as that sounds. My heart aches today, and it always will be. But on the other hand I am eternally grateful for the universe to allign and make us live in the same era. To have met and know Chaz. To be influenced, changed and touched by his music. To feel a different kind of love because of him. To experience love and understanding and comfort. I can't change what happened but what I can do, is move on and try to follow in his footsteps, to be a better version of myself, to be what he'd want us to be, live life everyday to ''make Chester proud''.

I love you Chaz, I miss you.

http://chester.linkinpark.com/

http://musicforrelief.org/one-more-light-fund/

https://www.changedirection.org/

Life is no bed of roses

Would you believe it if I told you that once upon a time I loved standing in front of the camera not behind it? One of my close friends is a photographer, he taught me a lot of tricks and great tips I know today, but before he ''made it big'' we'd always mess around. Mess around as in he'd put a ton of makeup on me and took a ton of pictures. I miss those days a lot actually. Maybe not so much trying to get tons and tons of white paint and fake blood out of my hair and face but our hanging out being ''young and stupid'' that I do miss.

Fun times when I open the front door once forgetting that my face is covered in fake blood. I think the woman on the other end had a heart attack on the spot. I'd feel bad but she was from the church. You know how allergic I am to those people...

That's not the only thing I miss though, I miss art. I miss going out just to take pictures and I miss drawing. Lately I haven't been good at it at all, in all 8 months I managed to finish up two drawings, one of which you see on the right side and safe to say I didn't feel either were 100% what I can do. I mean don't get me wrong I did my best gave all I got but I feel it's just not it. And it frustrates me. Art, photography is one thing that gave me confidence that I was always able to say that I know I'm good. Now what? When describing me people always say ''artist'' or ''artistic type'', so if I can't even do that, what do I got left? What's left of me? I know inspiration comes and goes, I know THE Hemingway had writers block too, but how long can it last?

So in the spirit of whining in self pity and missing these things I'll share a fun memory with you.

I had the pleasure of drawing a live model just once in my life, not a naked one, just this models face actually and it was that much better because he's a really famous one with a face that was probably carved by angels. Even better to draw because his features are so nice and smooth that the pencil probably could outline them on it's own. Let's keep his name private because this really isn't about him, it's about the experience.

It was a few years back when I found myself in the same restaurant as him, both there with other people, both ditched, both bored. He saw me sketching a church and asked me to sit down next to me. I knew who he was and obviously I enjoyed the attention. He asked me if I could draw something else too, like a face. And I replied with ''yours maybe since it's so pretty''. I should really hold my mouth shut sometimes shouldn't I?

''So you're not religious?'' he asked me, probably thinking I was given that there I am in the middle of Italy, sketching a god damn church and downing down Jack Daniels shots. ''What do you believe in then? Love?''. ''Sometimes''. ''Friendship?''. ''God no''. He smirked and leaned back. ''Sex?''. ''Yes, very much so''. A wolfish grin appeared on his face. It was absolutely stunning I'm telling you. A face carved by the angels. ''Music?''. ''Totally, 365 days of the year.''. Another hot smirk like he knew just what he was doing. But probably he did.

''I thought so, I can imagine that guitar pick around your neck isn't just decoration...what do you play?''. ''My dad's old telecaster''. ''Nice!'' What does he know about guitars? I never asked though, maybe looks are deceiving and he does know things about guitars and music and what not. ''Music is your talent then?''. ''Passion if nothing else''. I don't do bragging, I can't say I'm talented in music. I love it but really...is it talent? It's been a long time since I played last. ''I see, so you're talented in music, you speak a few languages, so that's a talent too, I've seen some of your photography work and I was impressed...don't tell me you have more hidden talents?''. I think the whiskey made me brave because I wasn't holding back on flirting with him at that point. Told him I have two more hidden talents. ''I could show you but...it would end bad...since this talent of mine...involves...activities...''.

Subtle wasn't my middle name back in the day. But the soft blush appearing on his cheeks was adorable. One would imagine that a model can't be thrown for a loop with a few simple innocent words.''And the other?'' he asked me then. ''Really wanna know?'' I remember he was a bit wary but he nodded anyways probably just waiting for another shoe to drop while I just laughed at him and grabbed a fresh sheet of paper and a pencil. ''What are you doing?''. ''Sit down, shut up and look pretty. If anything posing shouldn't be hard for you''. He just smiled but come on what's true is true? And I had a really good excuse to stare at him for more then a few seconds. Back in those times drawing was easy, few quick strokes and the outline of his face and smile was done. I wasn't struggling with it like I do today.

While I was drawing and glancing back from the paper and back to him I noticed he was looking at me too the entire time. But his face, really beautiful. Perfect golden ratio. He was easy to draw. It took me what an hour to draw him out with all the shading and we had a nice conversation while I drew. So after it's done I ask him if he's ready after he said yes I turn the paper over so he can take a look at his own face smiling on the paper.

And this is a proud moment for me because it was the first and only time someone just sat there looking at my drawing, mouth open, eyes wide. Amazed. And that is a moment like no other. I imagine that's how a singer feels when 90 000 people sing their lyrics back to them. I never got the same effect from anyone ever again. ''Amazing''. ''It's nothing, compared to others I'm an amateur''. Shaking his head slowly he looked at me all serious and sincere. ''Never doubt yourself, even the great Mikelangelo started somewhere''. It was cute the way he pronounced Michelangelo. But comparing us? He had to be crazy. I thanked him for it though about 10 times. He gave me so much drive, encouragment and inspiration and will to carry on when I wanted to give up. Which is why I'm typing this down now. I think I needed to be reminded that it's going to be alright and I'll find my ground again. I'll be able to draw again and smile and just live without a ton of baggage pulling me down.

We had lunch together at that hotel that day and when we said goodbye he told me ''By the way, I want that drawing when it's done, so I can brag around with it when you get famous one day''. It still makes me laugh today. But isn't that all that's needed sometimes? Some encouragment? Some compassion, some human to human contact, being nice to eachother? People should do that more often. The world would be a lot nicer then.

Bonus; here's one of the pictures from those ''shootings'' the friend and I used to do. One of my favorite ones actually. ''Stuck in the 80's''. High waisted jeans, shoulder pads, too much lip gloss and eyeshadow, a ton of hairspray and tons of fun.