Shut up

............and then occasionally, very occasionally, you are in the presence of a really really big human and you don't see them until they're gone.

Sinéad O'Connor headed off there a couple of days ago. I've been crying. In Organic Feast myself and the mighty woman in the Cafe have allowed her songs to play for two days now. All Day. Why?

Because she was Ireland’s Greatest Warrior Woman.

I grew up with her on the T.V. at home. A little girl with the rage of a nation of women in her bones.

I walked past her one day in Dublin. It was otherworldly. She was ethereal. She was stunningly gorgeous. She was our angry shitty little sister who just wouldn't shut the fuck up.
She was a woman who just wouldn't shut the fuck up. Unforgivable. UNFORGIVABLE. UNFORGIVABLE.

How DARE she!!!

She could only be who she was because we tortured her.

She picked up the cross of Ireland's karma and she took it into herself and it let us grow up.

I needed her to be. I needed her to pay for our sins.
I needed her to sit on her front step in Bray and snarl.

I needed her to smoke and get drugged and despair and hit the rockiest bottom I needed her to suffer. And she suffered and she suffered.

And we tore her down and we tore her children down and we walked on her and she sang like a tortured angel and she gave us the middle finger.

Because we could never hurt her.

Around her neck she wore all the hurt of every man woman and child Ireland and the Catholic Church ever crushed.