Playing Ketchup

I've spent the past two days catching up on my writing for The Undeniables. If it weren't for my helpful guide "The Writers Block book" I'm not sure if this would have been possible. Fortunately, it's therapeutic to write fiction and rewrite reality to fiction ;)

My brain feels really spent. I'm going do some editing later. It just feels good to be creating stuff again.

Of course like the rest of the world. I'm consumed with the foreseen death of Amy Winehouse. Her second album Back to Black was the only pop album that I bought in 2006, and at the time I hadn't felt that awakened since The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill. Of course the rest of the world embraced her musical genius, and like I, was unable to fathom why this beautiful girl would squander all of her success on drugs.

It's not that simple. I've avoided reading anything about her in recent years. It was just so sad to see pictures of bloodied fights with her husband and those damn ballet slippers. I remember running into a picture of her walking around the streets on London with nothing but a bra and jeans in tears.

The whole world is speculating on these reasons, and dissecting every possible angle. I can't help, but listen to her albums and get the chills.