The Grammy’s, Adele Cleans Up + Tribute To Whitney

  • Fantastic show with the grand majority of performances rocking the house and me.
  • Adele’s performance was beautiful.  She was beautiful.  Her six, count them 6, Grammy’s were beautiful.  She was charming, with her thick English accent, high-pitched voice that is so unlike her singing voice, her valiant attempt to keep it together then losing that control and still trying not to lose it completely.  She showed a bit of her sense of humour referring to her album as one that came about by a crappy relationship.  Her humbleness was apparent when she looked at the crowd on their feet, not letting up their standing O after her performance of Rolling in the Deep.  It was a very long-standing O and she stood there, drinking it in, feeling it and absorbing it.  Good stuff.  She looked glamorous, fabulous and all that (although I still think she looks too different for my taste), and all that effort she made produced a self positive self-image I believe she doesn’t usually possess…seemingly unaware of how great she is, which in the long run is a good thing.  I appreciate humble.  All in all, she made a good impression and her fans will her love her all that much more.
  • I was happy to see the musicians put together a tribute to Whitney Houston so quickly.  Not an easy thing. Fitting it in a major production like the Grammys has to be a nightmare organization job.  But it was done and I was glad to see it.  I was saddened to see no tribute to Etta James…a talent that influence music by embracing raw emotions.  I disliked Chris Brown more than ever.
  • That tribute set me to wondering what a woman like Whitney Houston felt to drive her down to the depths of hell.  From our perspective, she was everything we are not.  Tall, elegant and stunningly beautiful, with a voice unmatched by any other.  Singer, actress, model.  The epitome of perfection to the eyes of millions.  Living the dream in the eyes of us lesser mortals.  Even when she was just speaking,  her voice was melodious.
  • But what internal demons did she have that propelled her to spiral down into the depths of self-destruction?  Why would she feed the demon inside that was threatening to take away all that she loved?  Did she know she was pretty, or did she allow that “mean girl demon ” inside to convince her she was ugly?  Why didn’t she kick some ass and throw that “mean girl” to the curb.  Did she know her voice sounded heavenly or did she allow that “mean girl” to convince her she was not good enough?  Did she believe herself to be not thin enough or did that “mean girl” convince her she was “a big, fat ugly pig”?  Who did she see in the mirror…the envy of all women around the world or the grotesque distorted person the mean girl convinced her she was?  What was she afraid of?  What chewed her up and spit her out, devouring every ounce of self-love and respect she needed to continue to live the dream life everyone envied?
  • If you ever needed proof that how you perceive yourself is distorted beyond belief, based in complete and utter delusion, then just look at Whitney Houston.   Destroyed everything she had with drugs and alcohol.  For what?  For nothing.  We all know, for a fact, that drugs and alcohol are tools we use in a pathetic attempt to escape from the pain of ourselves.  We also all know, for a fact, that it does NOT work.  Not ever.  Nor will it ever.
  • You will never be able to consume enough alcohol or drugs to make the demon within shut up.  The hurt you inflict upon yourself, regardless of your  poison of choice:  drugs, alcohol, food, cutting or any other creative hurtful thing we can invent:  will do nothing but make that demon stronger, more powerful and in the end, only YOU will lose.  You will always lose if you feed the demon.  Until you no longer a separate entity.  The ultimate win for the demon within.  The demon moves on to another victim once you are gone, to consume another soul, to end another life in pain and misery, to torture, maim and mangle another innocent soul.  Why pass it on?
  • I say kill the demon.  Kill it with kindness, caring and love.  Deprive it from all it craves.  When it speaks those vile words over and over, telling you “you can’t do it, you can’t win, you are ugly, you are stupid, you are “insert derogatory word here” you deprive it from the nourishment it needs to live.  So, start with doing the opposite of what the demon wants.  The less it receives the weaker it gets.  Until it withers away to nothing.  If you hear You’re too stupid to do this right DO IT ANYWAY.  Don’t give up before you try.  Keep trying.  The louder that demon laughs and shouts keep working at it.  In this case, practice makes perfect.  Honest.  If all you hear is “you’re too ugly to love”, put on that great outfit, the one you love the most, get the hair and make up done until you hardly recognize yourself and get out there, smile and laugh, dance a little, laugh a lot.  Everybody is attractive.  Everybody is beautiful to someone else.  Just look around you.  Find that really ugly person and I bet you will find someone who loves them.  Take note…ugly is just a state of mind and not physical. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder is a truism based on fact not fiction.  Nobody and nothing is beautiful to every single person on earth.  You know that’s the real truth.  Accept it.  Embrace it.  Believe it.  Once you love yourself, even just a little bit, then others will be able to love you too.  Logically speaking, if you act like you are worthless, unlovable and too ugly for words HOW do you expect to find someone to love you?  I mean, really.  It doesn’t make any sense to expect someone to love you if you treat yourself like shit.   Give it a rest.  Give yourself a little care.  Some consideration.  A little pampering.  Start small.  One little thing that gives you pleasure, bring a tiny smile to your lips.  You are more beautiful when you smile.  Feels weird, doesn’t it.  But not unpleasant.  Right?
  • Then you WIN.
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One response

  1. I like this blog so much, saved to bookmarks. “To hold a pen is to be at war.” by Francois Marie Arouet Voltaire.

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