His birth into the elite provided him with all that money could buy. However the social constraints associated were infuriating to him. A born wild-child rebel, he was destined to follow the path many had laid down before. Where troubled children of the well-to-do families sink into the hole of drugs. Inevitably landing at the bottom of suicide leaving behind young children and a trail of destruction. His rejection of privilige which gained him much respect is however poorly grounded. For his rejection was only recognisable when he was on top form and not in a drug induced state of paranoia, depression and pitty. Extensive stints in Rehab, affording drugs, access to media attention and his lifestyle were all underpinned by the Society he claimed to reject. The Bmx biker-Gucci-hat-donning, fat- army-wearing, Pabst-Blue-Ribbon-drinking, Converse-shoe-stepping trustafarian smelling hipster and that his style of death marks the end of an era and the beginning of survival. Nobody goes there anymore. It’s too crowded.

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