Earlier in the week, I began writing a post about Whitney Houston. It was also about drug addiction, and the inappropriate lack of sympathy versus an irresponsible amount of pity. I feel compelled to write something about it, as drug addiction played a crucial role in my own development. I was kind of angry at the time, so it turned into something rambling. I think I can make my point.
It's horrible that someone with an almost ungodly amount of talent decided that the time had come to begin consuming large amounts of drugs and alcohol, which subsequently robbed her of her voice and then her life. Her death is not justified, her death is not good, and God did not decide she should be a drug addict, nor did he kill her. Whitney did, it's her fault and hers alone, and it is sad.
Because we're all human beings and thus capable of both beautiful things and mind-numbing fuck-ups, it really is that simple. Digging for the 'whys' are what make it complicated. Another constant in the human experience is the need to be loved. Start there, and never mind the bullshit about being adored by the world. That's not love. You grew up listening to Whitney Houston, you crank 'How Will I Know?' whenever it comes on the radio on your way home, you probably had her debut album and you've seen 'The Bodyguard', and you've forgotten about her already. You'll forget her again in another five minutes, and you probably won't remember again until you hear another one of her songs.
Conversely, one teenager will hurt for the rest of her life because Whitney Houston died. Do not confuse what she's feeling with what anyone else is feeling. One is Love, and the other is a convoluted pile of useless 'emotions' that people feel for other people / things they can dimly appreciate but only in passing most of the time.
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