Grief can be horrifying. It can be torture. It can tear you up and shatter all the pieces of the world you spent building over the years. The world that's in your head.

Without love you would have never been able to reach this place nor would you want to.

But without this place you could never discover the secrets of who and what you really are.

Alone.

That is when you hear the music for the very first time. That's when it all makes sense. Suddenly you realize, you're not alone in being alone.

The ashes of your broken heart are swept away and you are you gifted with a new heart. A new world. A new start. A new power. A level up.

Grief. Brought to you by love, for love. You are the music and the music is you.

Don't fear the reaper. Don't be afraid to love. It's all been meant for you.

To be dead, all you need is a broken heart.

So, you are correct. Not only in video games but also music, movies, the arts.

Luckily we all have a spare heart to replace the broken one. The spare heart must be earned because the original is really just training wheels.

You can't get a broken heart without love.

"Don't fear the reaper."

All alone, or in two's
The ones who really love you
Walk up and down outside the wall
Some hand in hand
And some gathered together in bands
The bleeding hearts and the artists
Make their stand
And when they've given you their all
Some stagger and fall, after all it's not easy
Banging your heart against some mad bugger's wall - Pink Floyd

His tears join with those of the broken-hearted and downtrodden.

Before I was rewarded with a broken heart, I loved with innocence. Now, I love with purpose.

Feel free to write your own lyrics with that seed.

"Come on you raver, you seer of visions,
Come on you painter, you piper, you prisoner, and shine!" -Pink Floyd

A lot people have gotten rich with just a pen and paper and a broken heart. I've got the broken heart. You've got the pen.

A broken heart cannot be ignored or excused.

The bleeding hearts and the artists
Make their stand

Admit it Bob. To you, being a democrat very simply means being weak, a pussy, and dare I say, a fag.

You on the other hand are the opposite. Strong, brave, moral. A man's man. You have a line drawn in the sand and dare anyone to cross it. You have your troops and your weapons and booby traps all ready to protect yourself.

The only reason you hold onto your arsenal is because there is still this little nagging fear in you. You're not quite sure what it is but it's got something to do with what's wrong with the world.

You might have, at one time or another, caught a fleeting glimpse of what that fear is and had to deny it, look away or suffer the consequences. The consequence being that you would become what you fear. Weak, a pussy and dare I say, a fag?

You only have one fear Bob. Just one. You fear a broken heart. And you will do EVERYTHING to protect it.

Cowboy up.

Ahhh. Much better. Thanks for the extra effort.

It's true. People rarely get what they deserve. That's why love is at the top of my list.

I see people grieve everyday. Some more than others. People feel betrayed by love because until they lose someone they love and who loved them, love becomes the thing of intense evil.

Suddenly they wonder what they did to deserve the pain they suffer. Feelings of being tricked and it can't possibly be true. Love is not supposed to take you there. You feel as though you must have had the wrong idea and everyone else got it right but you.

You feel alone. Very alone. Frightened. Insanity starts to creep in. Everything now has different meaning. Suicide becomes an option not only because of the pain but because you have gotten others to follow you down that road and will they be able to handle it? You feel trapped.

You start looking through the bible you wrote for yourself. The rules you wrote to live by. Did I have sympathy for others? Did I help others when I could have? Did I judge or did I understand?

There is only one way out. You must continue to love knowing the pain that you may lead others to. That's what music is all about. That's where music lets you know you're not alone. You did the the right thing and suddenly you can hear the voices of those who led you to where you are. They knew you were coming and they are now there to catch you. You crossed through the pain of hell into a world where you were loved all along and never believed it.

It's in every song ever sung. Every poem ever written. Every movie ever made.

The broken hearted. The bleeding hearts. The lovers. The artists. The creators.

So.... If you could just work that into a song, that would be greaat.

She cool.

https://videosift.com/video/Billie-Eilish-bitches-broken-hearts

You have been awarded 1 Power Point for fixing the embed code for Dead Pool video Frank Zappa - Flakes/Broken Hearts are for Assholes. Thank you for helping maintain VideoSift's reliability.

Fuck you if you love a car for its paint job
Love you if you love a car for the road trips
Show me the miles and your arms and the pink scar
Where the doctor had to pull out all the bone chips
Cuz you were pressing on the gas just a bit hard
Right in the moment where the road curved a bit sharp
And when you woke up, somebody was unclipping your seat belt
and pulling you from the open window of your flipped car

Cold pizza
Tie-dye shirts
Broken hearts
Give'm here, give'm here
Hand me downs
Give me give me leftovers
Give me give me sloppy seconds
Give em here, give em here

I don't care where you've been
How many miles, I still love you [x2]

Show me someone who says they got no baggage
I'll show you somebody whose got no story
Nothing gory means no glory, but baby please don't bore me
We won't know until we get there
The who, or the what, or the when where
My favorite sweater was a present that I got a couple presidents ago
And I promised that I would rock it till it's thread bare
Bet on it
Every single person got a couple skeletons
So pretty soon, in this room
It'll just be me and you when we clear out all the elephants
Me and you and the elements

We all have our pitfalls
Beer's flat, the cabs have been called
And everybody and their momma can hear the drama
that's happening behind these thin walls

Cold pizza
Tie-dye shirts (tie-dye shirts)
Broken hearts
Give'm here, give'm here
Hand me downs (hand me downs)
Leftovers (leftovers)
Sloppy seconds
Give'm here, give'm here

I don't care where you've been
How many miles, I still love you (2x)

I don't care (cold pizza)
Where you've been (tie-dye shirts)
How many (broken hearts) miles, I still love you
I don't care (hand me downs)
Where you've been (left overs)
How many (sloppy seconds) miles, I still love you

My pattern with women isn't a flattering image
But I don't want to run away because I said so
I don't want to be the guy to hide all of my flaws
And I'll be giving you the side of me that I don't let show
Everything in fashion
That has ever happened
Always coming crashing down
Better let go
But in a couple years it will be retro
You rock Marc Ecko
My shirts have the gecko
Cuz in the past man, I was hopeless
But now's when my little cousins look the dopest
(whoop whoop)
Fuck the fashion po-po
Have a stale doughnut, I don't need no tips
Fuck a five second rule
That's a plan I never understood
It's September in my kitchen in a Christmas sweater
Sipping cold coffee on the phone with damaged goods

And there is not a single place that I would rather be
I'm fucked up just like you are, and you're fucked up just like me

Cold pizza (cold pizza)
Tie-dye shirts (tie-dye shirts)
Broken hearts
Give'm here, Give'm here
Hand me downs (oh hand me downs)
Give me give me leftovers (leftovers)
Give me give me sloppy seconds
Give'm here give'm here

I don't care where you've been
How many miles, I still love you [x2]

I don't care (cold pizza)
Where you've been (tie-dye shirts)
How many (broken hearts) miles, I still love you
I don't care (hand me downs)
Where you've been (left overs)
How many (sloppy seconds) miles, I still love you

There is actually a condition called the Broken Heart Disease, technically known as Tako Tsubo syndrome. It's a stressed induced Cardiomyopathy. I've had a couple patients with this. It occurs after a particularly stressful event in your life. Time is the only real treatment. Initially they treat it medically but a full recover is like the video states, surrounding yourself with a great support system.

I hadn't even noticed that the loathing of this band had become so ubiquitous as to become cliché.

I'm pretty happy about it, though.

Really, I'm just so tired of all these retro-fetishist, nature-romanticist hipsters with their beards and their work boots and their flannel shirts, treating masculinity as an accessory because they honestly just don't know any better. They're all just perpetual adolescents who for the life of them cannot seem to figure out what it means to become an adult. So they try to find shortcuts.

Dylan was pretentious, but he was also a genius lyricist. Seriously, no bandwagon here, and I don't know if I'd call him the greatest songwriter of all time, but... he was good. Dylan was also highly political, and could be fairly incisive, while these confused little boys, all these hipster douchebags who seem to think that honesty can be bought at a thrift store, only ever sing about flowers and trees and broken hearts.

And they're all the same. Always. As a group, they are so homogenous that it becomes offensive to me.

I've got another confession to make
I'm your fool
Everyone's got their chains to break
Holdin' you

Were you born to resist or be abused?
Is someone getting the best, the best, the best, the best of you?
Is someone getting the best, the best, the best, the best of you?

Are you gone and onto someone new?
I needed somewhere to hang my head
Without your noose
You gave me something that I didn't have
But had no use
I was too weak to give in
Too strong to lose
My heart is under arrest again
But I break loose
My head is giving me life or death
But I can't choose
I swear I'll never give in
I refuse

Is someone getting the best, the best, the best, the best of you?
Is someone getting the best, the best, the best, the best of you?
Has someone taken your faith?
Its real, the pain you feel
You trust, you must
Confess
Is someone getting the best, the best, the best, the best of you?
Oh...

Oh...Oh...Oh...Oh...

Has someone taken your faith?
Its real, the pain you feel
The life, the love you'd die to heal
The hope that starts the broken hearts
You trust, you must
Confess

Is someone getting the best, the best, the best, the best of you?
Is someone getting the best, the best, the best, the best of you?

I've got another confession my friend
I'm no fool
I'm getting tired of starting again
Somewhere new

Were you born to resist or be abused?
I swear I'll never give in
I refuse

Is someone getting the best, the best, the best, the best of you?
Is someone getting the best, the best, the best, the best of you?
Has someone taken your faith?
Its real, the pain you feel
You trust, you must
Confess
Is someone getting the best, the best, the best, the best of you?
Oh...

big bluesy broken hearted lady voices are my favorite voices.