This isn’t a post about a dead artist. It’s a love letter to a voice that followed me through life. A voice that still lives in my ears — and in my heart.
With Ozzy in My Ears and a Full Heart
With Ozzy in my ears and a night filled with dreams of him, I woke up with a sense of sorrow. It’s as if the night told a story about everything that once was.
Ozzy has been one of the many soundtracks of my life. I’ve listened to almost everything he’s made – not just the Greatest Hits. When he came on the radio and I was alone in our car, I would gladly crank up the volume and sing along, loud and free.
I read his book I Am Ozzy a few years ago – a crazy world, but so very Ozzy. Love his voice. I love his madness. I love his music.
A Void on Earth – But the Music Remains
Just yesterday, I wrote a post about how he crossed over to the other shore. Maybe that’s good for him – but he leaves a void here on earth. There is no more Ozz here. You can read that post here: Ozzy Osbourne is dead – farewell to a soundtrack
I also wrote a post a few weeks ago where I felt grateful that he got to experience that we – even those of us who weren’t there – celebrated him. I devoured TikTok then, hunting down clips, wanting to see everything I had missed. It felt like the whole world blinked for a moment and said: We see you, Ozzy. We thank you – while you’re still here.
I’m glad we still have all the records and all the music. And I feel grateful that he got to do that final concert. That he was celebrated by his fans while still alive. It makes me smile, thinking he truly lived out his life – and lived, even though he seemed determined to not survive it. He truly is a miracle, considering all the drugs, alcohol, and insane stunts throughout his life.
A Living Legend – Who Wasn’t Supposed to Live
Ozzy is a miracle. With all the drugs, the booze, the madness… he still lived. And not just lived – he lived fully. He did it his way. And we got to come along for the ride.
When Our Heroes Begin to Fall
They’re starting to fall now, one by one. It hurts when someone disappears – even if they were ”just” a soundtrack. But The Prince of Darkness was so much more.
So no, I won’t write more about his death. I’ve already done that. Rest in peace, OZZY. I hope your body has found rest. And that we who remain… …can breathe. Can remember. Can keep on living.
Music as Memories – and Memories as Music
It will feel empty here on earth. An icon, a prince of music, has thrown in the towel. Laid down for his final rest.
But I live in the music. The soundtrack of my life is filled with him.
Right now, as his music moves through my ears, I am filled with memories, life, and love.
Most of the songs he made carry images in me — scenes from life: – A beach. – A lonely night. – A party. – A concert. – A road trip. – A summer night outside the camper. – A Walkman. An LP. An MP3. A video. You name it.
Thank you, Ozz, for all you gave. For all you were. For singing yourself into us.
– Who is the soundtrack of your life? – Is there an artist you’d like to thank – before it’s too late? – How does music affect your memory and emotions?
“Yesterday has already laid down to rest in history. Tomorrow is waiting further ahead. But right now – this is where life happens.” -Carina Ikonen Nilsson
I didn’t expect it to feel like this. But it does. Ozzy Osbourne is dead. And something inside me has gone quiet. Something that always used to scream.
I don’t know what to write. I just know it hurts. Ozzy Osbourne is dead.
It’s strange… I didn’t actually believe he’d live forever – and still, somehow, I did. He was always there. In the background. In my headphones. In the soundtrack of my life.
That voice that cut through everything. That carried pain, power, madness. He was never just music – he was emotion, force, defiance.
And now it’s quiet. But not really.
Because Ozzy isn’t someone you forget. He’s screamed himself into my heart – and there he stays.
I grieve him as if he were mine. Maybe he was. A part of my youth. A part of me.
I managed to write a tribute while he was still alive. Now I’m writing the other one. The one that hurts.
“You can’t kill rock ’n’ roll – it’s here to stay.” – Ozzy Osbourne
– What does Ozzy mean to you?
Did you listen to him when no one else understood?
What does his voice stir in you?
Do you remember the first time you heard “Crazy Train” or “Mama, I’m Coming Home”?
This isn’t just a farewell to an artist. It’s a farewell to a piece of myself – the younger version who lived with Ozzy in their ears, who carried rage, longing, sorrow, and fire. And at the same time, a quiet promise: never to forget.
This day took a legend with it. Tomorrow will echo without his voice. But right now – in the silence after the last note – the memory still plays. Right now is what matters. -Carina Ikonen Nilsson
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