As a friend Chainsawriot rightly notes – the saddest thing about Michael Jackson’s death wasn’t really that we all became his faithful fans all of a sudden, and we were so overcome with bottomless grief that we must mourn his death for 40 days and 40 nights, it’s the fact that his sudden death marks the passing of an era; it starkly reminds us yet again that time does fly, and people do get old and that, in turn, they will wither and die.

Jackson’s death was all the more the saddest, he didn’t commit suicide like Kurt Cobain did during his height of fame, nor he died like Bruce Lee did, young and eminent, he died at the age of 50, after a heart attack, after all the controversy that surrounded his alleged paedophillism. We should all be kind now, he probably was just a kid in this freak of a shell, who never get to grow up, who was always overshadowed byt his very own talent and success, which in the end haunted him and became his life-long curse.  He died pretty much at the lowest point of his life, both in terms of his career, his possible mental state, his facial features, his reputation, and his financial health.

If you ask me, that’s sad, literally, kinda like Nina Wang, the only difference that her legacy is still being fought out at the High Court in Hong Kong, MJ’s eccentricities will follow him to his grave.

Let’s be kind again, his music will surely outlive his life, just like Freddie Mercury of Queen is still being remembered today, I’m sure people will still remember MJ for the music that he had created, his amazing dance moves, and his stage persona.  There’s no doubt about it, his string of hits are simply irreplaceable (at least not by any of the bland shite out there right now), that was where all his talent went into, and at one stage of his life, he did take the whole world by storm, and took everything into his grasp.

We probably had thought at some stage of our lives that, this guy had made such a fool out of himself that we almost forgotten to respect him as a musician, a performer, a human being.  He had so much plastic surgery on his face that we almost forgotten his motown roots, the pureness of his voice in Jackson Five, or his long curly hair, or his live moon walks.  That makes it even more sad – he had it all, then they took his wings away, and he crashed and burnt so hard.

R.I.P. mah niggah MJ, you truly deserve it.