Fame Killed Amy Winehouse

I’ve been mesmerized with Amy Winehouse since seeing the recent movie out this year called Amy.  I didn’t know much at all about her prior to the movie nor much of her music except for Rehab.  I love it all now.  Love her soulful, heartfelt music.  My heart goes out to her.

I’ve had a relationship with a man just like hers and Blakes – having inexplicable ties to a man you just can’t cut despite wanting to.  People love to say Blake helped her downfall by introducing heroin to her.  That’s bull.  My guy was a drug addict too and I spent many nights at his place with him and his drug friends and I never partook.  Had no interest.  Of course he offered to me.  I refused.  The desire wasn’t there.  If it had been, then I would have taken the drugs.  So you can’t “blame” Blake for Amy’s choices.

I soaked in many, many interviews with her and saw the way the Paparazzi and Interviewers all wanted a piece of her.  I could feel her squirming in her seat and rolling her eyes at the awkward questions.  How could her interviewers not see?  No, they were too blinded by scoring an interview with her.  Sick fucks.  Only one black guy on UK MTV saw her discomfort when his two cohorts were peppering her with questions.  Amy really appreciated his concern.  The others just treated her like a meal ticket to their own “success”.

The media likes to blame drug use for Amy’s death but I think it’s more the media to blame.  They shamefully hounded her to no end.  They just could not leave her alone and let her be and create her music.  It’s like the chased her into a corner with no way out but to end it.

That’s my two cents.  Check out how wonderful it is to see her comfortable and happy on her friend Russell’s show.

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