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Watching the MJ biopic has reignited my obsession for ze King of Pop and now I'm going through a major relapse after an extremely long hiatus and listening to all his music again and having vivid dreams about him during my afternoon naps and building my tiktok fyp to be full of his content and dreading for June 25 and *inhales* crying and grieving all over again for the fact that my parents didn't have me way earlier and I could've exist at the same time when he was still alive and FUCK WDYM I WAS 4 WHEN HE DIED AND I ONLY GOT TO KNOW WHO HE WAS THE YEAR AFTER LIKE WHAT??!!
(PS: I'm happy that my parents never believed the allegations against him and they also knew he was, and is innocent. Also, fuck Netflix.)