Black Friday

contradictory statements at times bring forth some clarity to things that might appear oblique, I guess what might  be satisfactory demystification to the ever quest of the human mind to unravel legends and by legends I guess means the ever popping urban legend. Through the struggles during the dawn of colonisation to the dusk of what appears to be the age of technological manifestation we have had people possessed with the prowess to better their status by only shaping their talents, through art both written and performed, song and sports.

Through some crazy web of entanglement we have had the same people choose and by choice I mean through self will, decided to make an end to what seems to be an haunting life of struggle. It actually appears as a demon that cannot seem to be quenched by the platform of celebrity status. What drives talent to the edge of self destruct, what right do we have to adorn mere mortals to a godly status. Rumour has it or rather urban legend has it that some sold their souls for the gift of celebrity, ” the fallen angels” of our time through hard work they seemed to climb both social and economical ladder just to loose the grip when they got to the top. Some believe its jealousy that cost most of the falling. Paul Williams of the temptations to me stood out in a class of his own, he not delivered heart moving incarndesense but gave the music his soul, he was moved by the songs he sang that at times seemed to relate to the songs. On stage he brought a feeling that not only was he unworthy of a kind of love, only he seemed to farthom but still could not believe that he actually made it. I don’t believe Paul sold his soul, nor did he simply give all away, but he carried the bag of his struggled youth to the fortune that seemed to consume his presence, but through his death Paul not only triumphed but found the peace he so craved for on stage.

The all American sweet “hurt” Marlyn Monroe, naked, dreaming…, wishing that the heart will let go of what only her knows and what the world seemed to perceive of her world, no body knows what pains so much that you just have to let all flow away. Seems they all felt alone that they seemed to have an urge to die alone, in the pain that carried through their lives which always was a struggling lively hood from a broken home that you built a house in your head that comes out on stage but the feeling always is tantalizing for it varnishes off stage and people can’t seem to separate a theatrical character from an actuall character who tries to play out his role in the film of life.

Stuart Adamson, self strangulation? Through the fame alone drinking, the scottish drummer decides to end it all  and the world cries why? If heaven is real and I’m religious, and you took your life because of pain, uncontrollabe pain I think I ould be beside the soul, comforting the pain, in heaven or hell…