Why, Why?

I remember precisely where I was two years ago on this day,
the day when it happened.
I was sitting on a couch in my front yard,
watching the sun start to change the color of the sky.
Then I got THE text message:
“Michael Jackson died.”
I ran upstairs and checked the Internet.
No one could really confirm it,
I tried to talk myself into believing it was another scam,
but I knew in my heart of hearts that the dude was GONE.
I cried for a solid 15 before texting my then-bf the bad news.

I know you’re probably hoping I’m not serious, but I’m all kinds of for real. I miss MJ more days out of the week than not. I am legitimately heartbroken I never saw him in concert.

I wasn’t paying attention to the calendar, but my subconscious knew this day was coming. I cried while watching “Moonwalker” earlier this week. I had an insatiable urge to listen to his full catalog last night, but didn’t have my iPod. I woke up today feeling fine, and then my best friend reminded me that today was THE DAY.

Instant spiral into musical depression. I’m lying in my bed, listening to MJ albums in chronological order. And now for your viewing pleasure, the man himself:

This is my blog, and god dammit, the King of Pop gets a tribute.


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