Sunday, August 15, 2010
Saturday, July 25, 2009
I visited Michael in London
I went to London this Thursday, the 23rd. On Friday, I was supposed to have seen him for the very first time with my own two eyes, live in concert. Alive.
Instead of experiencing the high point of my life, celebrating the man I call my greatest idol - I was mourning that evening along with fellow fabs at the O2 Arena. That's right, I went anyways. Because I wanted to. And maybe because I needed closure of some kind.
Did I get closure? I don't think so. It still feels painful inside, and it will probably continue that way for a while. But I got to see the love that surrounded him.
At the Arena, a HUGE board had been set up for fans to write messages to Michael. Along with a photo of him and the statement - Michael Jackson, 1958-2009. On that board people had written messages 'till there were no more space to write on. And still they kept ón writing. Messages on top of messages on top of messages. Messages of love. Messages of sorrow. Messages of thankfulness and gratitude and messages of remembrance. It brought tears to my eyes as the feelings from the last month overwelmed me. Feelings of extreme gratitude towards the man who taught me to love. And to live.
Someone had changed the statement on the board. Instead of saying 1958-2009, someone had covered up the last year, and written in its' place: Forever.
And that is so true.
For through me, Michael Joseph Jackson lives on.
Michael Jackson
1958-Forever
I love you
Instead of experiencing the high point of my life, celebrating the man I call my greatest idol - I was mourning that evening along with fellow fabs at the O2 Arena. That's right, I went anyways. Because I wanted to. And maybe because I needed closure of some kind.
Did I get closure? I don't think so. It still feels painful inside, and it will probably continue that way for a while. But I got to see the love that surrounded him.
At the Arena, a HUGE board had been set up for fans to write messages to Michael. Along with a photo of him and the statement - Michael Jackson, 1958-2009. On that board people had written messages 'till there were no more space to write on. And still they kept ón writing. Messages on top of messages on top of messages. Messages of love. Messages of sorrow. Messages of thankfulness and gratitude and messages of remembrance. It brought tears to my eyes as the feelings from the last month overwelmed me. Feelings of extreme gratitude towards the man who taught me to love. And to live.
Someone had changed the statement on the board. Instead of saying 1958-2009, someone had covered up the last year, and written in its' place: Forever.
And that is so true.
For through me, Michael Joseph Jackson lives on.
Michael Jackson
1958-Forever
I love you
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
What if...
The swineflu is everywhere these days. It started in, what, Mexico? Spread like a plague to the USA and the Mediterranian countries and so forth to the rest of the world. The current centres of the flu seems to be Mexico,the US and England. And that is where I am going. England, that is.
On July 24th I was supposed to experience the all time hight of my life. I was going to see Michael Jackson live in concert. And somehow that didn't happen! I got the ticket refund, but the travel was set in stone. So I am still going to London. Oh yay...
So London! The Eye, Birmingham thingie, metro and bowlerhats. Been there, done that. Twice. What will I do instead?
Well, what if I accidentally catch the swine flu? It can happen, you know. What if I caught it, and the doctors told me: You're going to die.
What would you do?
What I would do?
I would tell my father that I see him in myself more and more every day.
I would tell Sus, that she saved me. From myself.
I would tell my old teacher, Mike, how much he taught me about life.
I would thank my old historyteacher, Axel Moos, that he ignited my spark.
I would tell my brother to get his act together, before he ends up being all alone.
I would tell my mother, to do what she did the best - be a mother. Instead of a friend. It hurts, but it's better that way.
And I would tell myself, to awaken. And be a better person.
"If you want to make the World a better place,
Take a look at yourself, and then make a change."
- Man In The Mirror, Michael Jackson (Glenn Ballard, Siedah Garret)
On July 24th I was supposed to experience the all time hight of my life. I was going to see Michael Jackson live in concert. And somehow that didn't happen! I got the ticket refund, but the travel was set in stone. So I am still going to London. Oh yay...
So London! The Eye, Birmingham thingie, metro and bowlerhats. Been there, done that. Twice. What will I do instead?
Well, what if I accidentally catch the swine flu? It can happen, you know. What if I caught it, and the doctors told me: You're going to die.
What would you do?
What I would do?
I would tell my father that I see him in myself more and more every day.
I would tell Sus, that she saved me. From myself.
I would tell my old teacher, Mike, how much he taught me about life.
I would thank my old historyteacher, Axel Moos, that he ignited my spark.
I would tell my brother to get his act together, before he ends up being all alone.
I would tell my mother, to do what she did the best - be a mother. Instead of a friend. It hurts, but it's better that way.
And I would tell myself, to awaken. And be a better person.
"If you want to make the World a better place,
Take a look at yourself, and then make a change."
- Man In The Mirror, Michael Jackson (Glenn Ballard, Siedah Garret)
Monday, July 06, 2009
Are you okay?
Michael Jackson was my idol. My brother. And my father. He was my everything. I have never cried this much in my entire life. Not even when family members or really close friends went away. I just don't cry. And that's just the way it is.
Or was.
When my relatives, friends and collegues see me after it happened, they always - hasn't failed yet - ask me this: Are you okay?
And my answer? My very honest answer, and that is what I tell them, is no. I am not okay. At all. But I try to cope. To move on.
And as honest as that answer is, it doesn't go anywhere near the real answer, the real truth that I feel inside.
Michael Jackson is to me even more important than family and friends. I might describe him as my very closest friend. And I know that doesn't make sense - but humour me a little here!
Because since the age of eight, when I first heard his music, and thus became a fan, Michael Jackson has been a constant factor in my life. Since the age of eight, my parents had a divorce, I moved several times in my childhood, I lost my mother and my brother, lovers come and go. But Michael stayed. He was the constant. He supported me through the toughest times in my life, and in 2004-6, I supported him back. His love was never ending. And so is mine.
He was my star in the sky, to follow at night when all goes dark. And now that star has gone out. And I don't know which way to go.
Or was.
When my relatives, friends and collegues see me after it happened, they always - hasn't failed yet - ask me this: Are you okay?
And my answer? My very honest answer, and that is what I tell them, is no. I am not okay. At all. But I try to cope. To move on.
And as honest as that answer is, it doesn't go anywhere near the real answer, the real truth that I feel inside.
Michael Jackson is to me even more important than family and friends. I might describe him as my very closest friend. And I know that doesn't make sense - but humour me a little here!
Because since the age of eight, when I first heard his music, and thus became a fan, Michael Jackson has been a constant factor in my life. Since the age of eight, my parents had a divorce, I moved several times in my childhood, I lost my mother and my brother, lovers come and go. But Michael stayed. He was the constant. He supported me through the toughest times in my life, and in 2004-6, I supported him back. His love was never ending. And so is mine.
He was my star in the sky, to follow at night when all goes dark. And now that star has gone out. And I don't know which way to go.
Saturday, June 27, 2009
My Father and Brother is dead
I am in a State of total and utter shock. More than I have ever been.
A man who has been a constant in my life since I was eight years old, is gone. He was my father. He was my brother. He was my mentor.
Michael Jackson is dead.
Even writing that sentence brings tears to my eyes.
I first heard his music at eight years old, my best friend introduced me to the Man In The Mirror from the Bad album. I remember listening to that soft voice, watching the album cover, trying to figure out for myself, whether Michael Jackson was a man or a woman!
But I was intrigued. I had to hear more! I simply had to! And I certainly did.
Now, 12 years later, I am the fan to break dimensions. I have the CDs, the records, the banners, the books and the gloves (yes, I own multiple of them!). I even have the dolls, for Christs sake!
And I cannot describe the love and admiration I have for the man that was Michael Jackson. His appearance, his stage show, his dancing, his singing, and definitely not least - his message to the world. And yet, he was no perfect man. He had flaws, like the rest of us. Like a cross between God and Human. Maybe and Angel? Maybe the new Jesus? Who suffered cardiac arrest to safe us from our sins? Something of the sort.
I was looking forward to the biggest event of my entire life, when I finally got tickets for the upcoming concerts this summer. And exactly one month before - his heart stops beating.
For some reason, that's the hardest thing to handle for me. It just stopped beating. Like that! Did he give up? Or had God really sacrified his soul, and wanted his Angel to come back to the skies?
My heart is broken. My brain is screaming in my skull. The Air is missing from my lungs. And it will be a long time before I Can breathe again.
To the memory of Michael Jackson. May he rest in peace. My father, my brother.
My everything
A man who has been a constant in my life since I was eight years old, is gone. He was my father. He was my brother. He was my mentor.
Michael Jackson is dead.
Even writing that sentence brings tears to my eyes.
I first heard his music at eight years old, my best friend introduced me to the Man In The Mirror from the Bad album. I remember listening to that soft voice, watching the album cover, trying to figure out for myself, whether Michael Jackson was a man or a woman!
But I was intrigued. I had to hear more! I simply had to! And I certainly did.
Now, 12 years later, I am the fan to break dimensions. I have the CDs, the records, the banners, the books and the gloves (yes, I own multiple of them!). I even have the dolls, for Christs sake!
And I cannot describe the love and admiration I have for the man that was Michael Jackson. His appearance, his stage show, his dancing, his singing, and definitely not least - his message to the world. And yet, he was no perfect man. He had flaws, like the rest of us. Like a cross between God and Human. Maybe and Angel? Maybe the new Jesus? Who suffered cardiac arrest to safe us from our sins? Something of the sort.
I was looking forward to the biggest event of my entire life, when I finally got tickets for the upcoming concerts this summer. And exactly one month before - his heart stops beating.
For some reason, that's the hardest thing to handle for me. It just stopped beating. Like that! Did he give up? Or had God really sacrified his soul, and wanted his Angel to come back to the skies?
My heart is broken. My brain is screaming in my skull. The Air is missing from my lungs. And it will be a long time before I Can breathe again.
To the memory of Michael Jackson. May he rest in peace. My father, my brother.
My everything
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Perfect isn't easy
BUT it's meeeeee! That's how Lynette the Poodle describes herself in the Disney animated musical classic Oliver & Co. from the late 80'ies. Voiced by the fabulous Bette Middler, she enravels her perfect life and poise in a posh perfect - and barking - rendition, including dancing birds, mad dogs and a wind machine worthy of the Eurovision Song Contest in Moscow this year. A truly gay moment in Disney history.
But is perfect really not that easy? I mean, if one was to tell one-self - from this day, from this very second: I am perfect. Perfection. Will work perfectly. Behave perfectly. Not hurt a soul. Never hurt myself. Kinda like a nun - but without the vows of chastity and such. Would one actually be... Flawless?
I actually believe in perfection. Some people are just so damn good and pure, that you might actually be in danger of puking - or alternately catching a deadly disease - from just looking at them. Like some of the people on the Magazine covers. Before the media gets to them. They look perfect, with their perfect smile, perfectly white teeth, perfect photoshopping, perfect, perfect, fucking perfect! I wonder if one can have a plastic surgery called perfection?
But in church, most religions really, they say that man is imperfect. Man fails. We are all sinners. Even perfect people from covers of mags, and nuns and munks. And I actually talked to... Well, not a nun! But a very religious female about this. She said that every single day, when she wakes up, she tells herself: 'This is going to be a good day.' And then she goes through the day - and it is exactly that! When talking about sin, she said that she is not perfect. No one is but God. But as long as you regret your imperfections and wrong turns in life, God will forgive. There has to be evil, so that there can be good.
I am not a religious person, and do not believe in God or any others holy figure. But I do believe in the duality of humanity. In good and evil.
But I still wonder. Is it really that easy? Regret and have faith? Is our bad conscience really our way to becoming perfect? Or is it God?
I am not sure I even wanna know. But one thing I know for sure.
Today is a good day.
But is perfect really not that easy? I mean, if one was to tell one-self - from this day, from this very second: I am perfect. Perfection. Will work perfectly. Behave perfectly. Not hurt a soul. Never hurt myself. Kinda like a nun - but without the vows of chastity and such. Would one actually be... Flawless?
I actually believe in perfection. Some people are just so damn good and pure, that you might actually be in danger of puking - or alternately catching a deadly disease - from just looking at them. Like some of the people on the Magazine covers. Before the media gets to them. They look perfect, with their perfect smile, perfectly white teeth, perfect photoshopping, perfect, perfect, fucking perfect! I wonder if one can have a plastic surgery called perfection?
But in church, most religions really, they say that man is imperfect. Man fails. We are all sinners. Even perfect people from covers of mags, and nuns and munks. And I actually talked to... Well, not a nun! But a very religious female about this. She said that every single day, when she wakes up, she tells herself: 'This is going to be a good day.' And then she goes through the day - and it is exactly that! When talking about sin, she said that she is not perfect. No one is but God. But as long as you regret your imperfections and wrong turns in life, God will forgive. There has to be evil, so that there can be good.
I am not a religious person, and do not believe in God or any others holy figure. But I do believe in the duality of humanity. In good and evil.
But I still wonder. Is it really that easy? Regret and have faith? Is our bad conscience really our way to becoming perfect? Or is it God?
I am not sure I even wanna know. But one thing I know for sure.
Today is a good day.
Monday, June 22, 2009
Awakening
Mhmm...
Mhm.. Nuh...
Mhmm, whaat? Orh, not right now, honey. I'm sleeping...
Honey...
Oh, alright! Where's the lube?
And so - I got fu... Uh, I mean - awakened!
Mhm.. Nuh...
Mhmm, whaat? Orh, not right now, honey. I'm sleeping...
Honey...
Oh, alright! Where's the lube?
And so - I got fu... Uh, I mean - awakened!
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