Hi 👋 I’m Trista & andI’m a recovering ❤️‍🩹 poet and president of tHiphopCaucusTucson; soon on I can kinda read her mind. She stumbles onstage, hangs on to a bandmember like she’s drowning, nearly falls over from lack of balance a few times. Sits down and pretends to need to take off her shoes, but really she just needs to sit down. She does NOT feel like being there, she’s in a daze – I love that lady who says about 7:30 YOU CAN DO IT!” Very kind of her! But when Amy opens her mouth and sing, it is falling flat, she slurs her words, because the heavy drugs haven’t worn off; like a flood of lava they course through her weakened, emaciated body. Her skin feels like it’s crawling; she’s alternately hot & cold, wishing she could just pass out & have it over with. The song lyrics throw her back into her old funk, the one that won’t go away / yes, she is lost/ the drunk who needs to pass out but everybody paid to be the life of the party/ she couldn’t get offstage if she tried/she cried & died, nobody paid no mind