my thoughts for this day

Sometimes I wonder if Michael wasn’t tired of people always expecting the unrealistic of him.  He was 50 years old, not old by any stretch of the imagination.  A man of his physical agility and conditioning for most of his life through dance and being on stage giving 1000% every time, was of course in better shape than most men half his age.  But Michael Jackson was human and he had limitations.  He suffered from lupus for God’s sake.  He had some fractures and some wear and tear to that otherwise well tuned body.  Conditions directly related to being the hardest working entertainer in the world as well as some other ills that he the was unfortunately dealt in this game called life.  Not of his doing, and not by his own will.  Did people think that he was some kind of machine you just wound upcomehell or high water and he’d perform for them?  Hadn’t he paid more than his dues already by leaps and bounds?  What more can I give he asked?  All of you came the reply.  All of you.  And so he did.

Michael Jackson had worked more years than most laborers who usually work 30 years and then retire.  He had worked 45.  Didn’t he deserve to retire as much as any other human being?  What made them think that he still owed society 7 more years of his life? One more to be honest?  He had paid his dues to society.  He had done his part.

Perhaps those people could argue that they didn’t know that lupus is an auto immune illness and it affects a person’s ability to stress, stress free.    Stress takes a toll on the body and leaves it weakened and subsceptible to other ilnesses.  Add an auto immune illness to that and you are flirting with disaster.  Michael Jackson didn’t have  the common cold.  He had a debilitating, life threatening illness.  And it appears to me that no one cared enough about that to just leave him be.

Sure people have said to me that Michael looked healthy enough in This Is It.  At some level I would agree.  He certainly could still move and wow the audience.  And I am sure for maybe 10 concerts, he would have gotten through just fine.  But the idea that a person with his illnesses would be forced into a corner and made to believe that his very livelihood depended upon doing just what we saw in TII 50 times over, is, in a word, assinine.  No one has, can or will ever convince me that Michael Jackson was looking forward with giddy anticipation to being contracted to 50 Michael Jackson performances.  Because we know that a Michael Jackson performance is what it is,  and that equates to nothing less than perfection.  Michael would never settle for anything less.  But his body would not be able to have handled that.  Anyone want to try to prove to me that the powers that be didn’t know that?  Anybody?

As I look back, as I have been doing for the last 23 months, I don’t see anyone having had Michael Jackson’s, the human, best interest at heart.  No one.  And the cost for that no where equal to the loss sustained from his work ethic to try to do the impossible.  I still feel that there is more to the story that is yet to be told.  Maybe it will be.  Likely it won’t.  Money talks.

I miss Michael Jackson as if he were an old, dear, beloved friend .  I hurt for his children who try not to wear their hearts on their sleeves, and his mother who can disguise her pain for only a while, but sometimes has to let it show.

I wish Michael Jackson knew that he didn’t owe anyone anything anymore.  I wish he knew that all things work themselves out in time no matter what.  And I wish he had had someone real in his life to look out for him when things looked a bit shady.  Not a handler.  Not a manager,  lawyer, a watcher, but a real down to earth friend.

God, Jehovah, Allah or by what ever name you call Him, knows what happened on June 25, 2009 and I know He is on the job.  The guilty parties know who they are and if they have any heart at all, must have a hard time sleeping at night, or waking up in the morning.  … if they have any heart.

Still broken hearted

I am sitting here in my little place in my home where I watch and listen to and have dedicated to my Michael Jackson.  This is his place.  Nothing else can invade it.

I’ve just finished watching, again, Bad in Japan, 1987.  Preparing to watch, yet again, Michael Jackson Commemorated days leading to his 45th birthday.  But in between these 2 very special treasured memories, I have once again opened the pages to Michael’s things, Neverland Lost, and I am in tears.  It’s very hard for me to look at these beautiful personal belongings of our Michael.  They have been boxed up and pushed away as it feels sometimes Michael was.  Just seeing them, especially the items with his makeup still around the collars, the shoes with the missing gormet bearing his name on the sole, the things that made up his life.  The telling things like the many little statues and trinkets and artifacts that spoke louder than any words ever could, of his lonliness and his aching desire to recreate the childhood he never had.  To see them, in all their glory, yet in all their simplicity, makes me once again go there.  Where you ask… back to the time when Michael Jackson was happy.  Back to the joy inside his tears.  Back to his Neverland where he at least was surrounded by the things that gave him comfort and a sense of belonging.  When he lost that… he lost a greater piece of himself.  I truly feel as much.

I ask myself why, why couldn’t they let him have the one thing in his life that gave him peace? His home.  The home built from the imagination of a child in an adult world.  The home were he felt safe and surrounded by familiar things.  The place that gave him back a piece of the childhood that passed him by.  Was that too much to ask?  Michael never asked anything of the world except his privacy.  No matter how much he sacrificed for others, to give us and everyone around him joy and magic and a piece of heaven on earth, he never required we give him anything in return.  Never asked for recognition.  Never asked anything more than we see him as a human being, a good man.  And that he was.  None before and none after will ever measure up no matter how hard one might try.  It’s just not in the stars.  Michael held the universe in his gently, worn hands and he handled it with care.

I don’t know why God allowed Michael to suffer so much.  There are some things that only God holds the answers to.  I guess this is one of them.  50 years is such a short life for one so full of life and love for every living, breathing thing.  For one who had such vibrance and fire, 50 years is not long at all.  He surely had 50 more had the tables not turned against him.  But I guess one might say, that’s all water under the bridge now.  I know however, that the water is surely troubled at his crossing over so soon.

I am still broken hearted and I seem to get more and more saddened as the days fall away towards 2 years.  I don’t know that I will ever return to the person I was pre 6/25/09.  I only know that it’s coming and nothing can turn back the hands of time.  So I will play the songs, read the books, watch the performances, and shed the tears in my Michael room possibly for the rest of my life.  Will it ever get easier? Maybe.  Will it ever not give me cause to reflect? Never.  Will I treasure these things for the rest of my life? Definitely.

Michael Jackson, I will never let your memory part, for you’re always on my mind and forever in my heart.  You are so beautiful to me...

Jermaine Jackson's book out this fall | new, york, book - Colorado Springs Gazette, CO

Jermaine Jackson's book out this fall | new, york, book - Colorado Springs Gazette, CO

This is the tell all book about Michael where Jermaine says some damaging things about Michael and his personal life. I certainly hope that this is just a rumor. I would hate to believe that now after Michael’s death that even his brother thinks trashing him is fair game. Is anything sacred in Michael’s life? For heaven’s sake, let Michael rest in peace and stop throwing stones at his character. Give peace and love a chance. It works.

Some people are just plain ign’ant

Well 4/29 was my birthday  and I guess I was feeling somewhat “old hat”.  The only real solace I found in that day was that it happens to be the same day of the month that Michael was born.  That fact at least made me feel like we have at least a little somthing, something in common.  Well anyway, long story short, I was at work sitting there staring at a picture on my desk of… you guessed it  Michael.  Yeah, he’s there.  I find my self lost in that picture at work.  Everyone in my office knows that he means the world to me, so usually they just leave me alone.  HOWEVER, not this day.

“Girl, why are you sitting here staring at a dead man?  And, my God, what do you see in him in the first place?  He looks scary.  WTH??@@#@##*  I lost it.  I mean… I really lost it.  Now my superiors think that I am in need of some counseling.  Not her… but me.  It is so embarassing.  What I need is for people to mind their own damn business.  Leave me alone and not judge me for who or what I love.  I LOVE MICHAEL. Period.  I don’t feel that in itself is any reason for people to feel obliged to make off centered remarks about my emotional stability.  It was the 29th.  Michael’s birthday is on the 29th.  I’m having another birthday.  He never will.  It’s depressing. I was simply meditating, minding my own b.i.z.    Why am I being chastized when she is not?  I am still upset as you can see.

My reason for posting, was I wrong?  Do you think I’m being persnickity?  I would rather hear it from people who I know love Michael and will be honest and fair.  I just want them to leave me alone. Stop tippin.  I wish I could pack up my gear and move to the moon away from all of them.  I don’t need this.  Leave me and Michael Jackson ALONE.