Uncharted Thoughts.

“Don’t forget me as the colors fade
When the lights go down
It’s just an empty stage”.

There has been a lot of depressing talk from Uncharted Thoughts this past week—the Afghan refugee crisis being at the heart of it.

But I think, in today’s post, some room has to be made for the Prince of Darkness, Mr. Ozzy Osbourne.

I’ve grown up with his music. His iconic and dominating personality has been a solid presence in my life for as long as I can remember.

Like most of us, our music taste comes from our parents. My father was my influence in music and remains so to this very day.

Pink Floyd, Metallica, Led Zep, Alice Cooper, and Black Sabbath were all posters on my bedroom wall. Ozzy had a special place in between the edgy My Chemical Romance poster and Cheryl Cole’s bikini picture.

He was my hero—not because he was a good man, but because he was a man with a history of addiction, crime, and abuse.

He was godly in his presence on stage and legendary in the rock ‘n’ roll community. But he was also deeply human in his flaws.

His internal demons were destructive, and with each passing year, you could see the baggage of his mistakes weighing on his shoulders—a lifetime of regrets.

To me, Ozzy wasn’t a legend because he was one of the founding members of one of the most influential bands of all time. Not because he took more drugs than a Colombian drug dealer. Not because he bit the head off a bat. But because he is a reflection of all of us.

We have all made mistakes, strayed from the path of moral superiority, and hurt those we love the most.

Ozzy struck a chord in me because his life started much like mine. He was born into a lower working-class family. He was failed by the education system, undiagnosed with dyslexia, and outcast because of it. He turned to friendships as a source of pleasure and connection, took some self-destructive turns, and battled with his own conscience and self-hatred.

Ozzy will be missed. But I can’t help feeling that he is at peace now, cracking open a bottle of JD with Lemmy Kilmister, ready to sit down and turn up Paranoid to 11.