I've learnt about your demise on last fateful Friday morning. For seconds, I believed that your vanity was out to rock the world again.
I was pretty sure that you'll make a triumphant comeback after refusing Death. You'll spin your way back and bring the hoo-has to a greater height. Several days have passed, and nothing's happening.
I remember, when I was in my teens and dad gave me his walkman, I bled $7 to grab that 'Dangerous' cassette. You know, $7 was big to me as I wasn't receiving a lot of pocket money, and I was stinking stingy then. But I couldn't break the spell you've casted by ' Remember the time '.
I would follow the MTV channel faithfully every Sunday to catch your videos. Dad said that you're a 'beautiful man'.
When I finally started working and gained little cash power, I upgraded all my favourite cassettes to CDs. Yes MJ, your 'Dangerous' album included.
My husband does better. He owns a record of 'Thriller', and he insists that we should listen together soon.
We're not crying like how your mega fans are... but the loss is stiring a pain inside.
You're gone too soon.
So we've made a pact to remember you positively as an inspiring artist. An icon of originality that no one can replace in this time. You are truly the King of Pop.
And everytime I look back at my youth, I'll remember the time, I'll remember you.
Thank you, Michael. RIP.