Maybe I’m just living…and dying, for that matter, in the moment. Maybe I feel like this because the current situation is so fucking unexpected. Maybe it’s just, quite frankly, true. But I don’t regret it. I mean it. I mean every muthafuckin’ syllable. Prince is king. Always will be.
Show me one man that could wear your woman’s clothes…then steal her ass from you without missing even one note in “Purple Rain”?
What dude would have grown ass, perfectly heterosexual men throwing their boxers onto the stage at his concerts like groupies with goatees and face tatts?
Who else would beat your ass at a game of basketball, then hook you up the tastiest fucking buttery flapjacks this side of the Milky Way?
The only man that could do that died at only 57 years old one year ago today. Which makes me so damn angry because he’s left us about 177 years sooner than I could have ever expected.
Prince wasn’t supposed to age. He wasn’t supposed to die. Like seriously, what in the fuck? Doesn’t Heaven have enough angels already? Why him? Why then?
I guess that’s why they say God works in mysterious ways…even if it means taking from us mysterious people that never belonged to us in the first place.
Actually, that right there perfectly describes my infatuation with Prince…and possibly your infatuation as well. The mysterious part, I mean. That’s exactly the way he was, is, and will always be remembered.
Younger generations may scratch their heads at the fuss over him. They won’t and can’t ever know. For a while, they couldn’t even YouTube any of his music or pirate it off some torrent site. Prince had that mystery on lock too. But thanks to his generous estate, we can bask in purple reign on Spotify now.
You see, he was mysterious, but he was no fool. He protected his precious little musical nuggets with a purple force field that was impenetrable as anything. His music gave us freedom…but it sure as fuck wasn’t free. And if you were a fan…a real fan, you didn’t care anyway, because you was coming out of pocket for however much he was sellin’ them joints for like, “Shooo, got change for an arm and a leg?“
Prince’s personal affect on me was simply showing me how to just accept myself. Showing me that that there was no specific way that cool could be done. It was all just a matter of confidence. If you believe the aura you exude…then others would believe it too. I carry that confidence with me today and always will.
If there was ever a time I felt mortal…it was the day Prince died without our permission.
Because if even The Purple One can leave at just a moment’s notice, whoever is controlling this shit called life wouldn’t spare a single heads up on my ass.
It’s hard to say Prince will be truly “missed” though with so much of his influence still out here in the world. But we absolutely will miss new reasons to love Prince Rogers Nelson more than we do at this very moment. And that, my friends, is an awful fucking lot.
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