My tribute to Michael

As I write this I am still at a loss not just at what to say but what to feel as well. I am not one to say that I was the sort of fan that would spend days camped outside places where the King of Pop could be found, hoping for a glimpse – mind you I would give much to see him right now just once – but to say I was inspired by the man is a gross understatement.

You see, while to many people the man represented music and eccentricism, for me he was the definitive icon, a true genius, one of the few people who went beyond capturing the imagination of a generation to defining it.

For someone like me, he made me go beyond interest in performance. There was dedication. There was inspiration. There was pure talent.

It’s one in the morning right now and I am still numb from the news. I can’t really think about it right now. I am switching channels and trying to take it all in. It’s all stupid and stupid. You think that people like him should never die. Funny thing is I thought about the effect his death will have on pop culture the other day. Little did I know that I would have to live it.

It’s almost surreal. Not an ordinary man was he? Thirteen grammies. And the greatest album of all time, thriller. Man this is hard.

It hurts because it feels so stupid. Michael is the soundtrack to every real performer’s life.

Was on facebook going back and forth and hoping that someone could find an article that would tell us that it was all a rubbish dream. An extraordinary man. A quarter of a billion albums. Man!

I can’t go on

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