I started being a fan of Bowie at the age of 11 year when my dad introduced me to Labyrinth. I thought he was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. Once I learned that he was not only an actor, but also a rock singer who's career went back to the sixties, I quickly started collecting his albums and learning all I could about him. I came to admire everything about him: his sense of individuality, his spiritual wisdom, his charisma, his esoteric song lyrics, everything. My path to self discovery through my entire teenage chunk of life became heavily inspired by experiencing Bowie's arts. And nobody I met could match my level of fandom. I knew everything there was to know about my idol, down to the voice he did on Spongebob. I made a birthday candle wish every year since I was twelve for one thing: to someday meet David Bowie, if only for a minute. It was my only wish of the universe for the longest time, and it was never granted. When he died, I felt betrayed by the higher powers, and because I had been influenced by him for so much of my life, I felt like a part of me died with him. I cried almost as hard over the death of Bowie as I did over the death of my mother. I will probably never cry that hard over another celebrity death. I am now a 26-year-old polyamorous burlesque dancer who wears cat ears on a daily basis, and I owe the majority of my sense of self to David Robert Jones. He helped me become myself by teaching me to push the boundaries, and I will be forever grateful. RIP David Bowie. Long live Blackstar. And all the love to those who knew him best.