This is.....

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Probably insane, sometimes cynical, mostly absurd and occasionally feisty, buddhist, sapiosexual witch with a passion for love, food and life. Convinced that most people either need a hug, or a damn good slap :)

Friday, 26 June 2009

When it's time to go...

As often happens, when I sit with a blank page before me, I have no idea what's going to appear. I have no particular idea in mind, no moan or rant, so I sit and wait for another muse to unfold. I am feeling that I should comment on the untimely death of Mr Jackson, being that we were both born in the same year. Last night, when I first heard the news, and then subsequently felt the need to wait up for an hour until it was confirmed, I remember feeling shock, then to an extent numb. The thought processes were along the lines of:

"Oh dear, same age as me, in fact 7 months younger"..
"His heart? Wow and he looked so healthy and slim"..
(looking down prodding chest) "Hey in there, you ok? I know I don't treat you well but hang in there ok?"
"he must have died alone"

Strangely I think it was the last thought that I found the saddest. The initial reports last night were that he was found by a member of staff, not breathing. An icon, a legend, a man who has had friends appearing out of the woodwork all day to pay tribute to him, who liked to surround himself with people, died on his own, with no one to ease his passing.

Somehow I can't see his life as a happy one. I don't know the whole story and I doubt anyone ever will, but the things he put himself through, the loneliness, the mental health problems which he obviously had. He was a battered tortured soul and I although I feel sorry for those he's left behind, I can only feel that at last, the poor vulnerable man is finally at peace, where no one can hurt him anymore.

Having said all that, he has brought pleasure to millions, his songs while not all to my taste, they were successful and fit their time. The video that went along with Thriller was groundbreaking and amazing in it's originality.

It made me smile today when someone said it was cruel that he had died so young. I'd like to think that people generally class 50 as young, (I do!) however I think it was more because he was always perceived as a boy, a Peter Pan figure who certainly would have been at home amongst the Lost Boys.

Just a man, that's all he was, a human male, no more or less important than any other human who died today. There are people grieving, mourning the death of loved ones, each to be remembered in someone's heart. There are people celebrating the birth of new loved ones, children who will grow, some to become, I'm sure, the superstars of tomorrow, some to scratch a living any way they can.

I hope none of them die alone. Goodbye Michael, rest easy now.

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