On the morning of MJ's death, her husband's morning call was 20 minutes later than usual. The unbelievable tone pierced my eardrums through thousands of miles of radio waves: "Do you know why I called you tonight! We were just talking about the news of Michael Jackson's departure, and the news was just reporting on the BBC..." For a few seconds, The air froze instantly, and the hand I was rubbing the toner on my face seemed to stand still in the air for a few minutes to microseconds. Looking back now, that morning, around 7:10, every second of the senses were as clear as slow motion.
I'm not a crazy fan. There is no worship. But only moved. Farewell to MJ in the concert rehearsal, every moment is God. What would fans around the world think of the farewell concert in London if it hadn't been for the morning he died? MJ is perfect for lighting, dancing, rhythm, picture, sound effects, and all the details. He knows every piece of his work, and he knows what he wants to bring to the world. MJ always likes to say "God bless you", and every improvement suggestion is accompanied by a very humble "Thank you. For love, guys. Everything's for love." I love such a man.
The world is always like this. I always have to wait for some people to leave before I panic and say, he is not molesting boys, he loves children, he is not plastic surgery, he just hurts his nose, he is not... he is... he is not... he is...
He is such a radiant, powerful man, yet humble and kind. He uses the purest love to see this planet and transmit this affection to the people on earth. If one day, God asks: MJ, the earth is so imperfect, there are those who hurt you, and there is such a planet that is being destroyed day by day, would you be willing to stay here?
God, I will. For love. Everything's for love.
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He's born to sing; he's born to dance; he's born to be on the stage.
Michael Jackson, King Of Pop.
Courtesy to MJ.
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