freebird

Hi Britney, you don’t know me.

How can you?

I never liked you or your songs.

I was never your fan and will never become one.

You sold millions, but didn’t touch me in any way.

For me you were a product.

Manufactured and manicured.

Everything from vocals to dress to every step you took.

I was convinced that you were fake.

That’s my personal opinion.

You came out with a best of. I didn’t care.

You were sexy. I didn’t care.

And then you went away. I didn’t care.

Then you planned your return. I didn’t care.

I didn’t listen to your kind of music. How could I care?

You started doing bizarre things.

I thought it was stage-managed.

PR driven to build hype.

To make you omni-present on air-waves so that that A& R will be happy.

You became more bizarre and yet I was indifferent.

Still I blamed on PR. That you were in your senses but band record sales must be prodding you.

All along there were people who cared for you. Constantly. 24 x 7 there were people watching you.

Taking your snaps, writing your obituaries. How old are you for an obituary. Do you even know about Heath?

But now I care. Not for your music. I never will. But relax, chill, find a dog or a cat.

You have become an industry, millions being made on your misery. You are a reality show that is beyond anybody’s control, except yours.

There is still time.