“My heart’s in the basement, my weekend’s at an all-time low.”
The way I feel about Bowie’s passing is strange. It’s similar to the way I would feel about a friend’s passing in that it carries with it some level of guilt.
“I didn’t spend enough time with him,” I find myself saying, though Bowie and I have never shared a space, really.
I don’t want to compare it to the way I feel about other celebrity deaths because that’s not cool. But this death stings so much for me because his music means a lot to me.
It was comforting knowing that David Bowie was alive somewhere, reacting to the events of the world and retaining himself all the while. It scares me in a way to know that the person who thought what he thought and was what he was is gone now from the Earth. I feel this sort of welling in each of my organs knowing that no one else is going to be that way for us.
It is very sad indeed.