There is still a lot of hyperbole circulating about Michael Jackson.
But when I think of him these days, I think about the one person who should have been soothed by his own songs. I feel sad because inspite of his huge musical legacy, he was a wasted man - wasted also, not just because of the many contradictions in his life, but because we stood in awe of his legendary music without really 'seeing' the person behind it.
His numerous plastic surgeries and skin bleaching treatments, resulting in such dramatic physical changes, were testimony to a life echoing with sad overtures. He lived with a steady stream of opiates in order to deal with his everyday stresses - mounting pressures that ultimately did him in.
What do you know about that, you say. Everything written and said about his abusive life is hearsay, you say.
Well. Mea culpa.
All I know is I am sad. I guess I already said that.
God rest his soul.
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