Well, it's coming up on 9 months since Michael Jackson's death. In the past, I've blogged about my feelings on how I'm dealing with his death. It hasn't been easy. This blog is about how much I still miss him.
Sunday night, I was in one of my moods and decided to watch This Is It for the probally 50th time. I swear, I just can't get tired of seeing that movie. At least not yet. That was the last footage of Michael alive. I feel connected with him somehow still. I know that he's dead, and I've never met him when he was alive , but me watching this movie reassures my soul that I even though I have tried to move on with my life, I still have an eternal connection with him. I still can never see the ending. I always lose it and cry when I see the final line "love lives forever" so I turn it off shortly before.
Sometimes it's hard to believe that he's really gone. I know that we've seen him being rushed to the hospital in an ambulance (the last picture of him that I have, but refuse to post), shortly after his death was announced by Jermaine, and his body taken to the coroner's office via helicpoter. We've seen his funeral and interrment on tv. We've even caught a small glimspe of his children trying to manage life without their only parent. Imagine how it must be so hard for them. I'm just an outsider and it hurts horribly. They lived with him. He raised them, bathe them, read to them, played with them. Brought them gifts. Took them places. They spent their enitire lives with this man. Yes, the world mourns his death, but the pain we are feeling, they are feeling exponentially.
My maternal grandmother, who was suffering from terminal cancer and severe senile demtia due to its metastasis, died the morning of my birthday. Although I loved her, I barely shedded a tear. Michael Jackson, a mere pop star died 8 months before, and I'm crying inconsolibly for days, contemplating suicide. Why is this?I have readily accepted grandma's death and has wished her spirit well in the afterworld (considering if there is one). With Michael, I'm unwilling to accpet that he's gone and the very though causes me pain, anger, and sadness. Could this be because I knew my grandmother was going to die, and Michael death was sudden and unexpected? Or because I actually loved Michael more? Is it possible to love a pop star, whom didn't know who I was and I didn't meet over a woman who has raised me for part of my hildhood? I hope it isn't the latter. I have my own inner turmoil with this. the guilt I have is staggering.
I don't want time to forget Michael. I know its sounds twisted, but I still want TII to remain fresh. I was so disappointed to see the Michael Jackson sections at Hot Topic and Walmart to shrink and then disappear. It's just as if his death and the hype of it all was just a fad. A fad that ws capitalized on, and then disgarded. This isn't a book, or a cartoon. This is a man. A wonderful brilliant, loviing, handsome, incredibly intellegent man. Whi because of a doctor's fuck up is no longer here, to change lives and bring happiness to the world.
After Michael died, I found it important to have his image tattooed to my leg. I've been wanting a Michael Jackson tatoo since junior high, but I've been too afraid to endure the actual process of geting a tattoo. After Michael died, I was more than willing to endure the pain (with turned out to be nearly othing) to have him immortalized on my body, as a momento of my lifelong committment and agilation, and love. Fuck being a fan. I love him. I think I love him baot as much as a person can love someone she's never met. maybe more.
I'm not saying he was my soulmate, or he belonged to me or anything, but I have always been attracted to the man itself. Not the moonwalker, or mr VANA or RTT or Thriller, but the philospher. The lover. The artist. The humanitarian. I was attracted to that Michael. The music was just the whip cream topping on an already yummy desert. Michael jackson never had to sing a note, never dance a step. I loved him for things not related to him music. His wisdom. His soul. Many people will never understand the level of love and respect I have. I will delve no more into it (I'm actually saving it for a book I plan on writing soon about my experiences as a fan).
As the years, and decaded go by. I just hope that Michael dosent become another Paul Bunyon, or anything. But someone notibly remembered for the great things he has done in his life, and not the bullshit that many people believe. When people have told me right after he died, "be glad you had the opportunity to experience this in your lifetime" at the time, I didn't. the pain was so great. In fact, I wish I never was a fan because perhasps I woldn't have cared so much about his death.
Soeone on the fanboards reminded me that I didn't just decide to be a fan. In a way I was selected becuse my nature was receptive to his message. It takes a certain person to actually "get" Michael. I always have. The person who gave me those words of comfort had so much wisdom themselves.
I will continue to carry Michael in my heart for as long as I live. I will never forget him, I will miss him forever.
Sunday night, I was in one of my moods and decided to watch This Is It for the probally 50th time. I swear, I just can't get tired of seeing that movie. At least not yet. That was the last footage of Michael alive. I feel connected with him somehow still. I know that he's dead, and I've never met him when he was alive , but me watching this movie reassures my soul that I even though I have tried to move on with my life, I still have an eternal connection with him. I still can never see the ending. I always lose it and cry when I see the final line "love lives forever" so I turn it off shortly before.
Sometimes it's hard to believe that he's really gone. I know that we've seen him being rushed to the hospital in an ambulance (the last picture of him that I have, but refuse to post), shortly after his death was announced by Jermaine, and his body taken to the coroner's office via helicpoter. We've seen his funeral and interrment on tv. We've even caught a small glimspe of his children trying to manage life without their only parent. Imagine how it must be so hard for them. I'm just an outsider and it hurts horribly. They lived with him. He raised them, bathe them, read to them, played with them. Brought them gifts. Took them places. They spent their enitire lives with this man. Yes, the world mourns his death, but the pain we are feeling, they are feeling exponentially.
My maternal grandmother, who was suffering from terminal cancer and severe senile demtia due to its metastasis, died the morning of my birthday. Although I loved her, I barely shedded a tear. Michael Jackson, a mere pop star died 8 months before, and I'm crying inconsolibly for days, contemplating suicide. Why is this?I have readily accepted grandma's death and has wished her spirit well in the afterworld (considering if there is one). With Michael, I'm unwilling to accpet that he's gone and the very though causes me pain, anger, and sadness. Could this be because I knew my grandmother was going to die, and Michael death was sudden and unexpected? Or because I actually loved Michael more? Is it possible to love a pop star, whom didn't know who I was and I didn't meet over a woman who has raised me for part of my hildhood? I hope it isn't the latter. I have my own inner turmoil with this. the guilt I have is staggering.
I don't want time to forget Michael. I know its sounds twisted, but I still want TII to remain fresh. I was so disappointed to see the Michael Jackson sections at Hot Topic and Walmart to shrink and then disappear. It's just as if his death and the hype of it all was just a fad. A fad that ws capitalized on, and then disgarded. This isn't a book, or a cartoon. This is a man. A wonderful brilliant, loviing, handsome, incredibly intellegent man. Whi because of a doctor's fuck up is no longer here, to change lives and bring happiness to the world.
After Michael died, I found it important to have his image tattooed to my leg. I've been wanting a Michael Jackson tatoo since junior high, but I've been too afraid to endure the actual process of geting a tattoo. After Michael died, I was more than willing to endure the pain (with turned out to be nearly othing) to have him immortalized on my body, as a momento of my lifelong committment and agilation, and love. Fuck being a fan. I love him. I think I love him baot as much as a person can love someone she's never met. maybe more.
I'm not saying he was my soulmate, or he belonged to me or anything, but I have always been attracted to the man itself. Not the moonwalker, or mr VANA or RTT or Thriller, but the philospher. The lover. The artist. The humanitarian. I was attracted to that Michael. The music was just the whip cream topping on an already yummy desert. Michael jackson never had to sing a note, never dance a step. I loved him for things not related to him music. His wisdom. His soul. Many people will never understand the level of love and respect I have. I will delve no more into it (I'm actually saving it for a book I plan on writing soon about my experiences as a fan).
As the years, and decaded go by. I just hope that Michael dosent become another Paul Bunyon, or anything. But someone notibly remembered for the great things he has done in his life, and not the bullshit that many people believe. When people have told me right after he died, "be glad you had the opportunity to experience this in your lifetime" at the time, I didn't. the pain was so great. In fact, I wish I never was a fan because perhasps I woldn't have cared so much about his death.
Soeone on the fanboards reminded me that I didn't just decide to be a fan. In a way I was selected becuse my nature was receptive to his message. It takes a certain person to actually "get" Michael. I always have. The person who gave me those words of comfort had so much wisdom themselves.
I will continue to carry Michael in my heart for as long as I live. I will never forget him, I will miss him forever.
