I didn’t know you.
Except I did.
I, just like the rest of the world, knew you. I knew your music. Your poetry. Your art. Your expression.
I knew your joy. Your pain. Your love. Your anger. Your sorrow. Your hate. Your despair.
I knew your success and I knew your failures. I knew your struggles and I knew your fight to endure, to rise after each collapse, to continue on when others might have fallen.
I knew your vices and your follies.
I knew your demons.
And I knew your Muse.
I knew you without ever knowing you, because of what you gave me, because of what you shared with me, and the rest of the world.
I never met you, but I knew you, and you knew me. Because you were me. And everyone else that you ever spoke to… spoke for.
You were my voice while I was finding my own. You were a voice for those who didn’t have one. And the world heard you.
And knew you… and because of you, knew me.
You were Scott. You were Dime. You were Jimi. You were Kurt. You were Layne. You were Janice. You were John. You were Jani. You were Randy. You were Freddy. You were Bob. You were Shannon. You were Dave. You were Jim. You were Cliff. You were Jeff.
And so many more.
You’re gone now, but still you remain. There is legacy. There is hope. And there are those not yet born who will also know you.
You’ve left us behind. But you’ve left everything you were with us.
And in that–in us–you will live.