My someone in the light has died a long time ago.. and I am alone now...

It took me a Hell of a time to find my way to my own blog. Am I that stupid?
Oh yeah. I guess I am. At least, I'm constantly reminded I'm not that bright..

http://www.mj-777.com/?p=8393

I'll be 43 this year.. Not 34, but 43. Even 34 could have been ok. Unfortunately, it's going to be 43. Thinking about having to deal with being 42 right now is quite an ordeal. I've tried for the last few years to remain young. But now that I am constantly dealing with younger people, it's definitely a tough world to be in. A very cuel world if you can't fight a fair fight.
It's fairly impossible to catch up, in fact.

And I also am constantly reminded that I have few real friends left.. I could almost say no friends left. It would be so close to the truth, but that would be a lie to write that..

It reminds me of the lyrics to a Tom Waits' song that mention that his friends are either dead or in prison.
I'm not sure that my friends I supposed were to in prison could still be alive by now..

I just been reading bits and pieces from my previous precious posts. Did I really write those scraps of shit? Was I high? And if the answer's yes, did it happen anyway? Most of what I read does not make any sense right now. It is like reading a web of lies. Ok, I am probably not smart enough to have composed such a thing, so I'd rather call it a bunch of nonsense, which explains why I did not write anything for many days..

I would almost take them away, because it's messed up, but it's going to remind me of how messed up I was and how messed up I still am.
That is why it will remain here. I do not want it here, but I like to punish myself, because that's how you react when you feel you are not loved, right? You punish yourself.

I feel alone. Lonely. In the dark. Stranded. Abandoned. Betrayed. That's how I felt most of my life, but at some point, Michael Jackson's presence here on Earth helped me feel being a part of something I could not see, feel, touch, or even understand. Now, more than two years after his death, after clinging to the memories, there's not much left. The memories are fading away, and there's not  much left for me to cling to. Videos are fantastic, but none of the images reflect the truth. Michael Jackson was not the man in gliterring clothes many admired. Neither was he the man behind a surgical mask that the Media made fun of. He was quite more of the man in the mirror.
The man in the mirror is in fact who you are. And personally, I don't like the man in my mirror.

That's why so many people (specially white Americans) hate Michael Jackson. Because of a message he conveyed, asking people to look in the mirror and make a change, people started hating him, mistaking their own reflection as being Michael Jackson. Few do recall that he did not write the song, but did only sing the more than powerful shattering message.

This is the reason why I personally LOVED Michael Jackson. It was not for the dance moves or videos, neither for the glamour, although all of it normally made my jaw drop.
Michael, my someone in the dark, sang those songs like no one ever could. (Ok, Luther Vandross could, but he did not always sing the perfect songs).
Michael's music and voice had the power to uplift my spirits. They made me believe in myself. Somehow, I got to look at the man in the mirror with his eyes, and for too short a part of my own life, I felt loved and loved myself. But now? What's left? I'm very much unhappy and miserable, except when I hear - AND LISTEN TO - his voice. It really used to be like the voice of Angels singing. You just had to listen and HEAR. There was not much else I could do, and this must have been one of the best parts of my life.

Unfortunately, the feelings of happiness have started to fade away when he passed away, and, now more than ever, he's gone, and I am miserable. Sometimes, I need to listen to his music for days until the state of my Soul is restored to an apparent healthiness which can only last until I get my fix of musical genius back through my ears.

I am lonely, old, and instead of longing for God, I now eagerly long for my own death to take me from being miserable and, hopefully, bring me to the path of the Light.

Since Michael died, I started dreaming of dead people, and in my dreams, they are looking for me. I am never afraid, because everything is so peaceful.

Someday, we'll be together again. And hopefully I'll be greeted by my dogs..
My grandparents maybe.. and Michael. (the Jackson, not the Arkangael).
How I'd love that.