He knew, Gentle Reader. He had to have known the end was soon. That video, goddammit that video is so poignant, so real, so pregnant with emotion and pain and… something else. Something like understanding. Freedom.
Is there freedom there, in the end, when you know you’re dying?
I hadn’t been able to watch the video until now. Before his death, I didn’t have time to sit and watch and listen. After his death, well, I’ve already told you what Bowie meant to me. It was just too painful.
How odd to sit here, crying over a soul I didn’t know, yet feel as if I did.
Bowie was also left-handed. We had that in common.
Weird kids, too. We had that in common. Strangeness. A love of sparkle. A shine.
Bowie, damn your eyes for leaving us.
Bowie, thank you for leaving us this. For leaving us you.
We love you.
The Postmodern Bluestocking 