It can’t be true! DIO is dead!

I cried when I saw the news about Ronnie James Dio (Died 16th of May 2010), and I’m even crying while I’m writing this. He was one of my heroes and idols when I was little. And he still is. I wish I could explain how much, how deeply this sorrow goes. I didn’t know him in person, but I knew his music, and it meant so much to me. This feels unreal. He was one of them who saved me when I fell. When I was unable to stand on my own, he and his music where there. Always being my support. I used to listen to his music together with my father. My father started playing DIO in the morning, so I would wake up happy. And even now I often listen to the beautiful music. It’s so much more than music, it’s art. The lyrics are brilliant, they are really one of a kind. I will always listen to songs like Holy Diver, Don’t Talk To Strangers and more…

Rest In Peace, Ronnie James Dio… You and your music have a place in my heart and your name will always be remembered.

There’s a laugh without a tear, a hope without the fear, and now you’re coming home…

-Jenny Marie. (Known as Kiba.)


Music is the soul of language

There is no theory. You have only to listen. Pleasure is the law. I love music passionately. And because l love it, I try to free it from barren traditions that stifle it. It is a free art gushing forth, an open-air art boundless as the elements, the wind, the sky, the sea. It must never be shut in and become an academic art.

I was only eleven years . My life was hell. But I couldn’t scream. Or run away. Because the source to my dark, deep pain was between the walls of my home. My mom was, and still are an alcoholic. She have been like that since I were little. I don’t remember those days very well, all that remains is dark thoughts of me praying for it to end. She was fighting with her husband. The carpet on the floor in the living room was soaked with blood and red wine. But even though, I still remember when I found a way to scream. To escape. To be able to continue living, surviving every single day, one by one. I found music, heavy rock. The guitars screamed for me, and the vocalist and the lyrics told me that I weren’t alone anymore. I could survive. And people around me realized that I had problems. And the help I prayed for came. The music became my ticket back into life. The music is still my backup when days are to heavy for me to get through on my own. I don’t speak about this often, though. Maybe it would be easier if people knew? That I don’t have to carry my burden alone, if only for a second? I know a very beautiful quote: Success is to know that another being have breathed easier because of your existence. And it’s true. I wish I could thank the bands who made me a fighter myself in person. And I think I do, by writing this. So, thank you, Saxon, Dio, and Accept, for making me breath a little more freely. Than you.

Queen of >Broken.