One less light without you, Chester

I don’t know where to start.

I hope by putting these thoughts into words I could immortalize my memories of you.  Life is fleeting, and I can’t promise that you will be forever in my memory. But maybe this would help me.

I want to blame the recluse spider from years ago. Maybe its venom  finally took toll on your body and poisoned you? Maybe. You always seemed to make fun of your misadventures while on tour. Such a clown at times. Such a stubborn man, too. I remember another instance you insisted getting on with the show even if you  already broke your arm.

This is why it never crossed my mind that you would choose another path to freedom. 

I knew you were broken. I knew you’ve been hurt. A lot. And for a long time.

But that’s the thing I admire about you. No matter how broken you were, no matter how much you spoke that despair through your songs, you still inspired many of us to keep on fighting, to not give up.

Your presence was a light that shined bright in a world that can be cruelly dark.

This sounds cliché but, it’s true:  Linkin Park has taught me it’s okay to be angry at your self, at other people, at the world. Your music also taught me it’s okay to be hurt and to admit that you are hurting. All of us, your fans, would agree when I say that your music was our solace when everything sucked, when the rest of the world didn’t seem to care one bit.

And every time you are out there—up on stage, when radio plays your songs, when we stream your music—your voice is the comfort that wraps its arms around us, telling us to let go of what’s holding us down.

Music does that. It’s therapy. And your voice and lyrics are the sedatives that compliment it.

That was you. That was Chester Bennington. And we loved you for that. No matter how broken you were, you forged ahead and tried your best to win your battles. And in doing so, inspired us to face our own.

But I guess you can’t win them all.

I can’t promise I won’t forget you. Or that you will always be missed. The human mind has means of pushing away memories to give way to new ones. And time makes the process faster.

Let me try though.  At least let me try.

Rest in peace, Chester—our idol, our hero, and our friend. May your light always shine bright in our hearts.

Who cares if one more light goes out, Chester? We do. We all do.

(A lot of memorials are being held today all around the world. Although I started writing this a day after news about his death broke out, it took me a week to finally finish it because most of the times I did not even want to  work on the draft. )

Why Walk the Moon’s first series of Manila shows sucks

I am making a separate blog for all music-related posts. Hope you’ll enjoy this site, as well.

S.P.A.M. that J.A.M.

Eli, Nick, Kevin, and Sean–collectively known as Walk the Moon–gave their Filipino fans five shows from August 18 to 20, 2015.

It’s been a week since Walk the Moon came to the Philippines and gave their Filipino fans five shows in different Metro Manila malls. If you’re one of them spirit animals coping with PCD (no, not Pussy Cat Dolls but post-concert depression), you are not alone. Those electrifying shows come with a price, alas. Now you find your self humming WTM songs more than ever, starting the day by checking out the photos and videos you took, and tucking yourself to sleep by visiting the band’s social media sites should they have any posts related to their recent Asian trip.

Why all the fuss? It’s not like the band was that good. They’re not. They’re very good. Those who’ve been following this indie rock band from Ohio even before “Shut…

View original post 1,003 more words