Michael Jackson Imagines

Finding Michael

Finding Michael

This is not an imagine, it’s a confession. 

In a few hours 2019 will come to a close. A lot of things happened this year. I failed in an examination which would qualify me for my dream job but passed in another which my parent’s and society consider ideal for me. For most of the year I was away from home packed in a dingy little hostel where I shared a room with three other people – claustrophobic doesn’t come close to explaining how I felt there. If I stretched my arm out it, I would hit my roommate lying on the bed next to mine. It was that small a room, with me stuffing my life into one bed and a locker. The food was so bland that they could give us passionfruit on a plate and it would still be passionless. There are very few things in life that man truly needs. A warm bed, hot food, comfortable clothes and a little space to breathe – these things might seem trivial but the absence of them breaks your spirit. You lose the strength to fight, the will to pursue your dream and just exist because there is nothing else to do. 

It was march, I was lying on my bed looking for ways to kill time while my roommates where chattering like birds at dusk. I was praying that they would shut up or just leave the room so that I would be able to hear my own thoughts that were being silenced by the constant chitter chatter that I for my life wasn’t interested in, I was screaming “SHUT UP” at the top of my voice but they never heard it, maybe coz I never opened my mouth. I pulled out my earphones, put the blanket over my head and opened YouTube. Nothing interesting, same old stand-up videos that I had seen countless times, movie scenes, same old new releases of the week, I kept scrolling video after video like an Instagram feed. Suddenly one video caught my eye, I scrolled back up – “Making of Black or White”

I clicked play and it was the best thing I did this year. “Welcome to the making of Black or White”. For the first two minutes, I smiled at the innocence and admired how beautiful Michael was. Why hadn’t I noticed that before? I’d known Michael Jackson since as far as I can remember but he had never caught my attention the way he did that evening. By the end of the video, I was obsessed with Michael Jackson. There was an unadulterated, unfiltered almost pious purity in the way he smiled. Watching him smiled made me happy, it gave me a sense of hope, a feeling of calmness. I watched countless videos, back to back of his and with each one of them I fell more and more in love with him. He was unlike anyone else I’d seen onscreen/offscreen, when someone praised him, he blushed with humility, when someone said ‘I love you Michael’ he said ‘I love you more’, when a fan cried uncontrollably on meeting him, he held them and calmed them down, when children pushed him into a pool filled with water just after he’d dried himself he played along as if he were one of them trying to make them understand that he’s a nice person, he’s just taken a shower and that he’s washed his hair thoroughly. Michael Jackson was what god intended mankind to be. And then the realization dawned. Michael Jackson was.

I’ve cried and cried (my eyes still teary as I write this) thinking of the possibility of never being able to meet him in this lifetime. Pictures of the empty gardens of neverland, the giving tree standing in the absence of its root, new artists winning the Grammy’s each year, new faces occupying the chair at Oscar’s where Michael once sat next to Madonna, the streets of France and all other places that I see in the videos where Michael had once been, the earth as a planet where Michael had once existed. I envy the fans as I watch them hugging Michael. what would it feel like to be in his embrace? To feel his gentle touch, to take in his divine scent, to be able to watch his face break into a smile as his lips curve and his cheekbones rise and touch his innocent eyes, to be able to hear his soft breath and feel his beating heart, I would give up a lifetime for a minute with Michael. 

Michael Jackson arouses mixed emotions. While, watching him makes me immensely happy when the video ends and the screen goes blank, a sad realization sets in. Reading the beautiful Wattpad imagines (Smuts and clean) gets me excited and blushing but also makes me think that Michael’s existence today is only as real as the fiction I’m reading. Michael is gone and yet he makes me feel more alive than any living person. 

Michael is what the heart would call a home. In him I find comfort, in him I seek solace. When I can’t understand what’s going on around me, when the world becomes too much to bear, I go to Michael. His smile makes life simple, the sound of his carefree laughter make me want to live more honestly, his meticulous dance moves make me want to practice and be the best at what I’m doing, soft voiced interviews shows me that humility is beautiful, his childlike peculiarities reminds me of a child in me that was once alive but now a disciplined masked adult, his gentle touch makes me want to be non-violent, his ambitious little notes to himself make me want to work for things I had dreamt of. I was mistaken, on that cold lonely evening in March I thought that I had found Michael but in finding him I had found myself. 

I know you might never read this but Thank You Michael.