It was around 4AM in Sydney when I found out that Amy Winehouse had passed away. What kind of fuckery was this? Amy Winehouse couldn’t be dead, not when she still had music to write. As I tried to formulate some words to describe how I feel about it all, I found that I couldn’t, decidedly because it was far too early in the morning, and I should probably sleep on it.
So I slept on it, and woke up to people who share my sentiments about Ms Winehouse, so there is nothing I can really say that someone else hasn’t said more eloquently, so I’m just going to leave this here, and listen to Back to Black again.