A lot of people give me a ton of shit about my “obsession” with David Bowie… here’s a story that might explain why I owe that man my life. If it weren’t for his music I would be dead due to the pain I felt as a teenager. From being different, from liking certain things that most people find to be taboo.
I remember it was night time. I’m not sure if it was AM or PM, but it was dark. It was just like any old Tuesday for me. I had gone to school, I had zombied through it, and I had come home. However, something was about to be different.
I’m pretty sure I had my bed kitty cornered at the time, and I was nestled in the space between the wall and the bed. I don’t know if I was hiding from anyone who would stop me from what I was about to do, or from the shame I had at the thought of me doing it.
I was...