There's a sickness in me that I can't out.

Please let me be famous (for the right reasons.) 🙏 Amen.

I've been thinking a lot about Brittany Murphy and the concept of the It girl and (sh)it boy. I didn't realize she had died. Just a memory of fame and a 'oh yeah, wonder what happened to her'. But she didn't go live on a chicken farm like someone like Lee Pace. She just died. Sometimes we just die.

She at least died immortalized. Shiny gold and pink. Nor the ideal path, I agree, but something. I can't imagine dying out nameless. Need to move, need to make moves. My blood is itching.

The concept of celebrity death is so intriguing to us why? How many times has Pete Wentz talked about struggling, and Tyler Joseph told to shut up about Neon tombstones, and Awsten Knight said his fans love him better dead? And Kurt. Everyone talks about Kurt. And Courtney. Cobain and Love. Cocaine and love. Concepts Hollywood spins around.

But it's so hard to make it there or anywhere, it seems like these days, especially with the internet, you're just picking your burial place and trying to climb out. No one who makes it is helping others out, at least not where we are. It's always over another hill. And you want to be jealous but you just can't stop looking up at the stars. When will they be blocked out by a friendly face and a hand up? Ever? Or will it always just be carving dirt out alone until we can kick up on solid ground? What if the grave is caving in?

Well

Guess struggling is better than just laying down.