I still can’t quite believe that amy winehouse is dead. She was a women with an immensley chilling talent and noone can deny that. She was reaching her prime and hopefully sobering up, but unfortunately she wasn’t able to reach her full potential. Her death also brought up the inevitable number question, that people always revert to. Why do so many greats die at age 27? Jimi hendrix,janis joplin, kurt kobain all died at age 27. Another question that always seem to tingle the mind, is why is it always drugs. That I can’t answer. In amy’s case though love was a losing game, as the man she admired with everything she had and was effectively her muse was the person who led her into a whirlwind spiral of hard drugs, late night parties and cancelling gigs. Every time I pass by a shop, and I here them play back to black or frank, I smile but my eyes feel slightly saddened. Thinking about all she couldve done. All she couldve been is so frustrating yet so sad all rolled into one tiny ball of questions. I feel for those who tried to rescue her from her ways, family and friends. All those tortured by her demise. So if we can learn one thing from her death, it is to live every waking moment to the fullest and to learn to let others help us when we are in need. Life is most definately to short.