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July 5 2009
I think I am running out of things to say. I’m just melancholy. Now I am very aware of the songs that are in my head. Like right now Bless His Soul is playing. That song sounds painful. Like he wants to please everyone…make everyone happy, but he is miserable on the inside and smiling on the outside in a show of appeasement. Is it time for me to be selfish? To truly put me first? I can’t go back to the way things were. I don’t even want to go back home. It’s not a happy place…and these days being away from home ain’t all that happy because my loss follows me wherever I go. No way to escape this one. Not even if I am asleep.
I’m watching the DSTYGE video. He looked really regular cool. Favored Janet a lot. I still can’t accept this. Black or White. I wonder how Mac feels about this. Why is George Wendt still alive? He hella huge. Watching a BET Marathon. I’m doing pretty good. I guess he was real. I guess he was human. He died. Watching Thriller and the lyrics…you see a sight that almost stops your heart…that phrase hits home today, That zombie really looks like Nick Nolte. I want to cry. But I gotta make myself watch this. I like how this marathon is titled…Don’t Stop Til You Get Enough: The Michael Marathon. I like how they just use his first name. Why’d that dude get thrown to the lions because his sticks weren’t entertaining? Hey, you can see Mike’s toes. That might not even be him. I guess the allure of this video is that it had an all black cast. That cat looks preggers. Brain McKnight said, “there’s something about Michael Jackson that relates to everyone.” Nicely said. One of the Asian chicks from Soul Train is in the Beat It video in the diner. His curl was really nice in this video. Why’d he fog up the camera lens? Hey, Mike is Tony from Westside Story, breaking up the fight. BET is embarrassing me w. these people half as aware and talking on the streets in Harlem. OMG, the Bad video makes me so excited, happy and hype. Mike Bivens was plying Billie Jean on the piano and Ralph Tresvant was going his Mike moves. Even did the toe thing. TIGHT! I like New Edition. The background matches his shirt, pink. Hey, another pair of black leather pants. Hey, it looked like the body in the bed moved or someone bumped the bed. Ahhh, Dirty Diana is coming on! I wanna play in his herr on this video. That skinny chick walking had hips. She kinda has shapely long legs like a frog. Heyyy, Steve Stevens! I wonder what he be whining about. Well, more of a mumble. This sounds like a hard song to sing vocally. I like the live versions when he forget the words…” I be duh do do do do.” They playing Man in the Mirror. This is sad enough w/o the grief. I didn’t know it started off with footage of people protesting for Mandela. Damn it was a one egged terrorist shooting a machine gun! He meant that shit! Baby Jessica from the well is in here too. Willie Nelson and Live Aid too. They saving whales. Hey, him and the Asian kids with the yellow hats. 10 min…and I am going home to plot the rest of my life. Dramatic changes have to be made in the next month. DSTYGE feels very triumphant. The track itself is like an introduction to a new world or a new you. Kinda looks like he has on a very natural looking eye shadow. I think he had a pretty high tolerance of pain to go through all of that multiple times. Gotta be in your Zen mode to get your mind ready for all of that. Humh, the copyright for that special read 2005. Guess they already had that done. At this point I am not sure if I am crying because of Mike or because I hate my life. Look people on the streets. Have you ever seen a lady so sad? God, why do I keep crying? It’s like I am not able to control it. My eyes just keep watering.
= How do people find happiness? Really, how in the hell do you do that? From what I’ve witnessed of my life…something is always missing This is the lowest I have been since I was a teenager in Mississippi and Alabama. And to revisit that feeling; those feelings is something I never thought would happen again. And it stings. It pinches, it hurts. My mind winces at the familiarity of this kind of sad. This kind of depression. Do you feel happy, think happy, act happy? That is such an unconquerable state of being to me. Those who are ok with who they are, where they are…what they are so damn lucky. Too damn lucky. I’m envious. That person driving the blue BMW at the corner of Orange Grove and San Fernando is probably happy. Enjoying their Sunday. When it comes right down to it. I don’t belong. I don’t belong anywhere, really. Or to anyone. I exist, but for whose benefit? I am alone, very alone. Maybe you can see it behind my eyes. I don’t feel wanted or loved right now. I rest assured in that fact that I am liked though. I have a break out. I don’t even want to look at myself in the mirror. I feel ugly, plus if I see my red eyes I might cry. Cry the tears of a girl with so much potential, but no clue on how to tap it. My spirit and confidence has been crushed. Is it meant for me to suffer in this way? How much of this can a human being take? When I am in this place Mike can usually pull me out. He grabs my right hand with his left one and we go for a leisurely stroll. In some park. I don’t even think we talk. We just walk and be at ease together. Wait, we do talk, but its telepathy. We converse via our brain waves. He looks at me, I look at him. There’s a courteous smile exchange between us both, but nothing more. I don’t want this walk to ever end, but it does without me even knowing it, They way we connect is like the phone crazies in Stephen King’s Cell. It just happens and we don’t even know it. In these mental conversations he understands me and I understand him. It’s good. It’s comfy. It’s real. Elyse was right, it is a spiritual connection. A connection I have to try to find again now that his soul has departed.
Why in the hell did Dorothy just text me a photo of him in an ambulance hooked up to breathing apparatuses and shit. This fucks up okayness I had for the day. What I did notice from the glimpse I took before closing it was that he looked colored. Like the Badangerous Mike.
It’s 11:45pm and there is some good news. I got an email. I am able to get tickets to the memorial. I had Alesia print out my voucher and I take it to Dodger Stadium tomorrow to pick up my tickets and wristbands. I am still in disbelief that I was so lucky. Now, maybe I’ll get into the Staples Center. This is such a sucky feeling to be excited that I am going to someone’s funeral. I am afraid of my reaction on Tuesday. I think I’ll always hear the sound of my cry from when I initially heard the news. It’ll haunt me for a very long time.
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