We traveled into the fucking Nine Hells to get Pike a suit of armor. We went and battled a city of vampires so Percy could feel good about his name. We fought goliaths for Grog. We’ve traveled across planes of existence so you could fix your fucking daddy issues. But you’ve never done anything for me. Ever! You’ve never risked anything, you don’t know me, you don’t know anything about me. What’s my mother’s name?
Sometimes, we know artists more than we know people in our lives. Especially musicians. Where do you think those lyrics come from? The words of musicians, poets & writers, share things from within their heart and soul that most people don’t have the ability to do. All of those feelings are sent to their brains, then transformed on paper, for the world to see. They choose to share their guts with us. So people can empathize and connect. That is special and generous.
So, yeah, when an artist that we have connected with dies, especially tragically like this, it fucking hurts. We feel helpless. We beat ourselves up with questions that cannot be answered. We go through the stages of mourning just like anyone else who knew them personally, and it is justified.