I remember those idle summer days of my adolescence spent just glued to the television and watching Michael Jackson's videos. There was one channel that would dedicate the whole afternoon to him and I couldn't resist. I had to watch...over and over and over and over and over...
There was just something in the way he sang, the way he moved...it just amazed me. People called it star quality, but that's just limiting what he had. A lot of other people have star quality. He had something else...but I can't name it. Well, whatever it was, he was bursting with it. He had that ability to stop your heart for an entire concert and electrify your senses.
And even with all those scandals, all those criticisms on his personal life and all those crazy things he did to himself...I never stopped admiring the man on the stage.
But you know...his death didn't shock and numb me as much as the people's reaction, especially the media, who's been the frontliners in exposing his scandals. The media loved him when he as on top (as did the public), stepped and jumped on him when he was down, and now on his death, they love him again. Why can't they have realized his greatness when he was alive? Why now, when we can't ever see him on stage again? Will the jokes, the criticisms, the bashings stop now?
Why are people kinder and more forgiving towards the dead than the living?
If the reason is that it is because the living has the ability to change and remove all the contradictions in the way he lives his life, and that the dead doesn't, then I can accept it. But I sense that that's isn't the reason. I'm afraid to know for certain that it is just because of the sheer enjoyment of torturing another being.
...
I had this dream of seeing him perform live, and with news of the London concerts, I had high hopes that he would plan an Asian tour and come back to Manila. *sigh*
Goodbye, Michael. Moonwalk across the galaxy.
Love,
Niña
