Today is Chris Cornell’s birthday. It is also the day that Chester Bennington committed suicide.
I don’t know what to write here. I wasn’t expecting to lose another hero/inspiration/light in the dark so soon. Somehow, I’ve lived by the assumption that the musicians who shaped my soul would always be around, in stark contrast to the literary figures who shaped my thoughts never being around; most of them were deceased far before my birth. *brood*
The pressure one must be under as an artist of worldwide prominence is unfathomable to me. Surely that’s only one factor, but… I’m choosing to focus on the abstract instead of the specifics of mental illness or things of that ilk. Nowadays, all the criticism, all the harsh words are thrown directly at an artist. It makes me long for the days where people had the happy scapegoat of blaming their muse… Uninspired? Blame that wandering muse for being MIA. Writing sucks? Blame that drunken and unfocused muse for not concentrating. *sigh* I’m sad and I’m babbling.
RIP Chester Bennington
RIP Chris Cornell
…I just wish I didn’t feel like there was something I missed…