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When I first heard of Amy Winehouse…

it was far earlier than I planned on listening to her music.

We were on the way to Massachusetts for the graduation-celebration-weekend festivities for one of my close friends.

It was June 2007. I was driving.

This was the afternoon following the morning that I wrote a vindictive, spiteful and somewhat evil letter. A letter that was given to one of my Brooklyn friends to give to an ex who I still speak to/cordial with as I’m typing this.
Although we set to leave Brooklyn about 2 hours earlier than we actually ended up leaving and following the shenanigans of another friend’s car & food situation and then being briefly lost in the Bronx, we found the way back to the i-95.

There was 5 of us in my coupe.

The slow movement and trans-like progression of traffic placed me in frustration but must’ve put the driver behind me to sleep.


The back of my car’s hit. The food, ice and metal of the trunk’s crushed. The words that I said to the guy who just royally fucked over my car…the words.

An hour or so after the fiasco of standing around on the i-95, cops reporting the accident, checking ourselves for injuries and me really-really needing to smoke, we waited for one of my friend’s affluent classmates to pick us up from a random location in Connecticut to continue our journey to Amhearst.

It was in that random SUV, the vehicle of the mixed girl who seemed as if she just cut the remainder of her experimental dreads off and just had a meal containing humus, was where I heard it. When I first heard it…

Amy’s thick but soulful voice. Her tone was a combination of an odd grit that I never heard from any white singer prior to this. I mean Christina Aguilera does it but its not genuine. I feel in love with her voice, the subtle yet obvious ode to soul singers from our past, the heavy grit and anguish within it. We met the day I had heartache and an almost major car accident. We met in conflict.

Though our troubles weren’t similar nor related, I felt so attached to her music that I used to pray for her to get better for herself as one human praying for someone they don’t even know. Then disguise it under my tweets for her “to get her act together and give us more music”.

This is why it was very difficult to say goodbye to Amy. I was forced to bid farewell to her when I was in peace and she wasn’t.