They laid him to rest today. Or was it yesterday?
It doesn't matter. I didn't know the man. I only knew his music.
Michael Jackson, whether you liked him or not, inspired people around the world. For me, his songs play like a soundtrack for the memories flickering in and out of focus.
Sitting on a porch step, watching the orange and pink of sunset bleed across blue. Schoolmates run around me while I take refuge in my thoughts. "Human Nature" rings in my ears, emanating from plastic headphones attached to my Sony Walkman -- the yellow one. Only the cool kids have the yellow one.
Hiding at my friend's house on Halloween, anxious to jump out and startle her little brother. He wants to be Batman. We want to be Catwoman. "Thriller" starts, coming from a TV in the back bedroom. We're distracted by the beat. Super-heroes fade and only dancing zombies exist.
My best-friend-in-the-whole-world, Heidi, and I sing "Gone Too Soon" at our Junior High graduation. My throat closes while saying, "Dying with the rising of the moon." Tears burn and I am now aware of time's determination to only race forward. No going back.
Rest in peace, Michael Jackson.