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My confession to all of you, my fellow beLIEversThis is actually something I wrote at the spur of the moment. I personally do not believe in confessionals but I figured that this would be the best thing to call it. It would actually be nice if this could be a place where fellow beLIEvers post their own feelings, fears and confessions as important dates knock at our doors. This is actually something I’m a bit ashamed of so please understand that it is not easy for me to show this to the world so to speak. It was really hard to write this because I could not stop myself from crying.I had just seen that special on Animal Planet about Michael Jackson and Bubbles: ‘The Untold Story.’ The last bit of that show with Latoya talking with Bubbles stuck with me for some reason. Yes I believe that Michael may still be alive but there are things that tend to pull on the ‘heart strings.’ It did not cause me to have doubt but seeing Latoya cry like that broke my heart into a million pieces. I just felt like hugging her and crying with her.I know that I am not very active on here but I read nearly everything you guys post. I feel like I know all of you because of that. So here I present you my personal confession. I was actually gonna delete this but I decided that I should share this with you instead. It’s almost that time…As I sit here, I’m riddled with thoughts and memories. It’s really hard not to think about him. I ask myself… Have I gone mad? Am I losing touch with reality? Here I am hanging by a thread. I feel that if I move just a little, I’ll fall into a dark hole. A bottomless pit with no end, that is, no end in life. But only death could end it.There isn’t a day that doesn’t go by in which I don’t think of him. He still haunts me in my dreams. I want him to leave me alone but he doesn’t. He continues to dance on the black reflective corridors of my mind. It’s as if he is calling me to go with him. The love that I have for this man is nearly unrivaled by anything on this earth. I have never in my life loved another human being like this. They say that love is a beautiful thing but if that were so, why is this so painful?I demand an answer from myself as I did that day and every day since then. Why does this matter? Why does he matter? I was not a fan before that day so why is he so important to me? Why did it have to take what happened on that day for me to pay attention to him? It’s like a sickness, a disease with no cure. No matter where I go, there he is in the form of an elegant broach, in the form of a sequined article of clothing or in a fedora hat that adorns a mannequin. I want to run away from the world to avoid seeing objects that provoke such emotions. But even if I could, I would be in the confines of my room, a room which is filled with memories of him. For it was modified and conceived in the wake of my deepest sorrow. Every stroke of the paintbrush was executed with such strong emotions towards him and his plight. I can’t escape from looking at any portion of my habitation without being reminded of what I felt when I was working on it. There is no closure whatsoever. I wish I knew when this would all end. I wish that it were that simple. I wish that I could just move on but I can’t. Every day that goes by, I’m pummeled with emotions and thoughts that eventually lead to him.I am a prisoner of such emotions and I can’t break free. Like a ball and chin, I carry this immense burden with every step that I take. It’s so heavy and it’s weighing on me. It really is.Despite the fact that there is such strong evidence that he is alive, I’m still unable to rid myself of this misery. It is going to be a year and yet my wound is still fresh and it refuses to heal.The summer sun shines ever so brightly but it can’t seem to penetrate even the thinnest parts of this cloud that hangs over me. I’m drenched in my own tears. I almost can’t have salt because I’m sickened with the many tears that I have tasted.I can’t imagine being subjected to life in which there is such emptiness and longing. The air that I breathe is forever filled with the bitter scent of nostalgia. What’s wrong with me? Why is this happening to me?When will this end?I wish I had an answer to all of these questions but sadly, I don’t and I do not know if I ever will.All I know is that on that day, June 25th 2009, my old self died and I was born to a whole new world but I’m not sure if I like it.Without Michael, I’m not sure if I like it at all.~alma~
Whitenight...you are not alone. I never imagined I would be spending so much time reading all these posts and be so attached to finding the truth, to the point that it consumes my normal everyday life. I was chosen to be here, and sometimes that makes me mad. My lprevious life has been neglected, and my conquest to find the truth has become my every breathe, my every thought and my every action. It's like an overwhelming power that draws me here everyday and night. Regardless of whether you are a fan or not, it's become more than that. I've tried to turn away, but don't last longer than a day...You guys are the only ones that understand this. If I fall, it won't be alone. We all Love You...Cheers, xoxo
Alma you really touched me with everything you wrote. I feel the same way you do only difference is I have loved Michael since I was in 1st grade back in 1969 but his hold on me is extreme and strong. He's like this wonderful phantom love, a peaceful angel shadow that follows me everywhere and literally over sees everything I do, each moment I live.
I told my mother when I was 4 years old that I was going to marry Michael Jackson. She tells me that I said it with such conviction. You could say he was my very first love. I grew older, and while my apparently deep 4 year old love for Michael wasn't always present in my mind, he was always somewhere there. I always followed up on his various stories, what was going on in his life. June 25th marked a turning point for me. My 4 year old self re-emerged. The love I somehow had when I was a young girl was back. Times a billion. The old saying, "you don't know what you have til it's gone," can't hold a candle to this feeling of loss I have about Michael. Since I've joined the forum, I know this feeling is shared by many. Michael is an enigma. Something so unexplainable and so attractive (I mean this in every way possible- looks, personality, etc). You can try to define Michael until you die, but you will never grasp him. He's unattainable, yet humble. He's perfect, yet human. He's the Prince Charming you read about as a girl, who not only saves you, but the world. He's the guy you can't wait to bring home to Mom, yet can still be "bad." He's doing this for himself, his family, his children, for you, for me, for the world. He's put himself in the spotlight, through the pain, the judgment, the torture for our faces he's never seen. Could I do that? Could you do that? June 25th was hard. The anniversary is harder. The 25th was the stab in the heart, the anniversary is the twist of the knife. I find comfort in this forum- in the truth that we've found, in the fight we've promised to fight, in Michael himself. It's 11:51 in California. A year ago he was apparently still practicing at Staples. Does it seem like a year? No. It seems like 20. For whatever reason God willed me to look up "Michael Jackson Death Hoax" on youtube in February, I am thankful. The road has been an uphill climb. Post-BAM, it's going to be bumpy. We will feel a wrath that we haven't experienced before. If we remember why we're doing it (LOVE), if we keep our eyes on the prize (TRUTH), then this entire Dante's Inferno we've been traveling for a year will not be in vain. Michael, on your command, we begin. Love you more. Seriously. B