This is a short reflection of my 7-year journey since July 14- 2007. I realized that I may be a day late, since technically, I'm writing this on July 15. Nevertheless, the emotions stay the same.
This is for you, Michael.
Well, and for me, too.
Years ago, I have written my "Michael Jackson Story" which took about 10 pages or so on Microsoft Word. I detailed everything there from the very beginning. However, I never did gain the courage to post it... until my laptop gave up on me just a couple months back, and now I have completely lost that file.
Hello, regret!
Anyway, I'm not going to rewrite the entire thing, but only to reflect on that "Michael Jackson Story", being what inspired me for ever since I can remember.
It started off some day before July 14 back in the year 2007. I was at dinner with my Mom and we were randomly talking about the musical legends. We talked about Elvis Presley, and of course... Michael Jackson. And I remember my only memory of his reputation before that night.
A little backstory of my first Michael Jackson impression. I grew up on a generation that screwed up his image. Everybody knew who he was, but only a few know who he really was. Everyone judged him. Everyone thought he's gay, pedophile, surgery-obsessed, weird, and go on and add another. So frankly, as a naïve 14 year old teenager from the Philippines, I shared the same insights.
And on that specific dinner with my Mother, I expressed my curiosity and confusion on Michael Jackson's talent. Yes, I did question his talent. I did not understand, at my age at the time, what made Michael Jackson so big of a deal in the music industry. And my Mom, not being a fan, told me he was a real deal. I don't remember her exact words, but I remember sensing her great respect for the icon.
I did not thought that that conversation would encourage my Mom, some days later, to buy a DVD copy of Michael Jackson's Dangerous Tour - the Bucharest Concert. And so, on a cozy afternoon of July 14, 2007, my Mom, Dad, and me, watched the said DVD.
I was awed. And I realized that the only reason for my curiosity and confusion of his talent is because I did not see it. I did not grow up with it. I was deprived of it; by my generation, and other people's misconception. Society shut him down. But given the opportunity to witness his gift, even on a TV screen, was enough for me to admire him.
Secretly, I even took the DVD with me when I left home. And I remember watching it every morning before going to school. Now take note, that I did not have Internet at the time. I could not watch Youtube clips of Michael Jackson, and everyday I hoped for a brief mention of his name on my local television, and even catch a few backtracks of his music videos from Myx. I was desperate. Access was very scarce. I needed his music.
As a 14yearold girl, I was ashamed. Frankly, I could not take the humiliation that may affect my social life if I proclaim myself a Michael Jackson fan in class. They'd tease me. I did not risk it. For certain years, only two people in my life knew about my case. Namely two of my bestfriends in early high school. And one of them was kind enough to burn me a CD containing some of his songs. And I listened to that until I was able to get my hands on an MP3 player.
Along my love for his music, I accepted his whole being. Take note, again, that information was very scarce at the time, and it wasn't like I can ask anyone else what happened in his career, or what really transpired in the allegation charges thrown against him. I accepted him regardless of all the rumors and the weirdness that stuck with the mere mention of his name. I respected him. And I continuously admired him from a distance.
It began with his music and his performances, until later on that I realized he was more than just an artist. He was a businessman, a philosopher. a writer, and a humanitarian. He was so much more than what people believed him to be. In fact, he wasn't a pedophile. He wasn't gay. And he wasn't weird. He's funny, and real, and just a plain victim of his own ambition. He's actually just a person. He makes mistakes, but then again, don't we all? He falls down, but he redeems himself. And that is what I love more about him than his achievements; because he is brave. One cannot understand winning without losing.
With internet connection, I was able to connect with other fans, and I have realized that there's nothing wrong with being a fan at all, because I'm not the only one. It wasn't a dead end. It wasn't a blind journey. There were people out there, just like me. And that boosted my confidence. Unfortunately, I only realized this at the same time that he died. This is when the world suddenly gave attention to him, beyond all the rumors that the same public put out there in the first place. The same people who called him "Jacko" were suddenly chanting, " Long live the King!".
Don't take me wrong, I don't blame the others. I don't blame you. I blame society. Because it shielded the opportunity to get to know Michael Jackson's music. If I had not been given the chance to recognize his talent in 2007, I would be on the same page as others who became a fan only after he died. Because suddenly, his music is all over the place. Suddenly, people proclaims him a hero. Suddenly, people care enough to know the truth behind the mask. Suddenly, people started recognizing his innocence. And sad as it was, not totally. Younger kids were introduced to his talent; that same kid that existed in me back in 2007. And we're a bigger family than ever.
Over the past years, I've said to myself multiple times, "If time really does heal, then I'd stop living each second." I was afraid to forget Michael. I was afraid that I'd be too busy living my own life, (and there's nothing wrong with that, in fact, it's encouraged) that I'd forget just how much Michael Jackson means to me. He taught me so much about life that I can never learn from my professors, not even from my parents. No matter how my love for him sound fictitious, he showed me reality. He introduced me to the world. He made see the wonders of life, and the creativity that exists amongst us. He made me understand myself. He made me see myself for the first time. He gave me ambition. He gave me inspiration. In fact, if it wasn't for that first poem I wrote about Michael, I wouldn't be writing or reading, or doing anything in my life besides breathing. He was my greatest mentor. And that will forever stay me, no matter how many years pass.
He'd be my shadow, reminding me that light could be somewhere, when I am on my darkest times. And even if I am dealing with darkness, I knew I wouldn't be alone. That even if I don't see my shadow, he'll be there when I find light. And I could forget about him at times, in broad daylight, when everything in my life seems at place, but he'll always be there; when I feel lonely, when darkness once again overcome me. I wouldn't be alone. Michael Jackson will be there, reminding me that once I fall, I can only redeem myself. That losing is just a part of winning. After all, Michael Jackson wasn't born a winner. He chose to be a winner. He wasn't perfect. But his flaws contributed to his success.
There is no good or bad publicity.
There is just publicity.
There is not good or bad success.
There is just success.
There is no good or bad happiness.
There is just happiness.
With internet connection, I was able to connect with other fans, and I have realized that there's nothing wrong with being a fan at all, because I'm not the only one. It wasn't a dead end. It wasn't a blind journey. There were people out there, just like me. And that boosted my confidence. Unfortunately, I only realized this at the same time that he died. This is when the world suddenly gave attention to him, beyond all the rumors that the same public put out there in the first place. The same people who called him "Jacko" were suddenly chanting, " Long live the King!".
Don't take me wrong, I don't blame the others. I don't blame you. I blame society. Because it shielded the opportunity to get to know Michael Jackson's music. If I had not been given the chance to recognize his talent in 2007, I would be on the same page as others who became a fan only after he died. Because suddenly, his music is all over the place. Suddenly, people proclaims him a hero. Suddenly, people care enough to know the truth behind the mask. Suddenly, people started recognizing his innocence. And sad as it was, not totally. Younger kids were introduced to his talent; that same kid that existed in me back in 2007. And we're a bigger family than ever.
Over the past years, I've said to myself multiple times, "If time really does heal, then I'd stop living each second." I was afraid to forget Michael. I was afraid that I'd be too busy living my own life, (and there's nothing wrong with that, in fact, it's encouraged) that I'd forget just how much Michael Jackson means to me. He taught me so much about life that I can never learn from my professors, not even from my parents. No matter how my love for him sound fictitious, he showed me reality. He introduced me to the world. He made see the wonders of life, and the creativity that exists amongst us. He made me understand myself. He made me see myself for the first time. He gave me ambition. He gave me inspiration. In fact, if it wasn't for that first poem I wrote about Michael, I wouldn't be writing or reading, or doing anything in my life besides breathing. He was my greatest mentor. And that will forever stay me, no matter how many years pass.
He'd be my shadow, reminding me that light could be somewhere, when I am on my darkest times. And even if I am dealing with darkness, I knew I wouldn't be alone. That even if I don't see my shadow, he'll be there when I find light. And I could forget about him at times, in broad daylight, when everything in my life seems at place, but he'll always be there; when I feel lonely, when darkness once again overcome me. I wouldn't be alone. Michael Jackson will be there, reminding me that once I fall, I can only redeem myself. That losing is just a part of winning. After all, Michael Jackson wasn't born a winner. He chose to be a winner. He wasn't perfect. But his flaws contributed to his success.
There is no good or bad publicity.
There is just publicity.
There is not good or bad success.
There is just success.
There is no good or bad happiness.
There is just happiness.
Wow! Beautifully written! *applause*
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