Dear Scott Weiland,

I hope you have found your peace.

This morning started as any other day. I woke up early, turned the alarm off my phone and saw that I had multiple text messages waiting for me when I woke.

Each one of them poured in about your death. You, Scott Weiland, are now dead.

I sat, silently for a moment thinking about the memories I had with you and your music.

I remember On The Waterfront in 2011, where I saw you perform with Stone Temple Pilots. You put cubes of ham in your mouth to keep salivating while singing. Must be a strange singer trick I've never heard of. It was an incredible show and I am thankful I was able to see you perform with STP.

I remember listening to 'Interstate Love Song' for the first time when I was in middle school. It was in heavy rotation on my favorite radio station. Each time I hear it, I'm brought back to when times were much simpler for me.

I remember that you, like many, struggled with addiction.

Addiction is a beast. It is a disease. It is deadly.

You were so talented Scott. I do not yet know if your addictions are what brought you to the other side, but many have assumed.

My math teacher in middle school always said never to assume, because it makes 'an ass out of u and me.' I will not be quick to judge you Scott.

As I learned more about your passing, I learned that in your death, you were found by your personal manager on your tour bus.

I'm saddened that you were alone. I'm saddened that when you took your last breath, you were not able to tell your wife good-bye. I'm saddened for your children, both teenagers, who now have lost their father. I'm saddened by it all.

Know that in your death, you are celebrated for your contribution to music. You were a troubled man Scott, but you were a fantastic entertainer.

Rest in peace,


P.S. I'll never be able to look at a garden the same way. It's just a bunch of angry vegetables.

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