If you know me, you know I'm a huge fan of music. It played a huge role in how I survived most of my adolescence. It's been there for me through every up and down. And sometimes it can say things better than I can. That's probably why you can pretty much tell what mood I'm in based on what I listen to. I love it.
My taste in music varies but I'm a huge fan of hardcore. I have my favorites and I won't pretend like I'm a huge die hard fan of Suicide Silence because I wasn't. But their songs would come on some of my Pandora stations and I really dug them. So last week, the day after Halloween, my husband read an article about how the lead singer of Suicide Silence had passed away after being involved in a motorcycle accident. I felt bad. I always do when I hear about someone dying. I said a little prayer for him and his family before heading off to bed. I laid with Emery for a bit and just thought that I couldn't possibly imagine what they must have been going through. I snuggled with Emery a bit closer.
Since then a lot has been shed on the reason for the accident, and his state of mind. I've seen a lot of love and hate being spewed about this group, their front man, and his family since the accident. It's actually been pretty disheartening to see. This man was someone's son, brother, husband, father, friend, and hero. It's a tragedy on it's own when someone gets taken away from their loved ones. And I'm really saddened that there are a lot of people out there that can't respect that.
I know this isn't really what I normally post about, but I felt like I needed to for my own sake.
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