It's difficult to write this as I listen to his music. Particularly, the song 'Stranger in Moscow.' Of all the stories he's told, of all the songs I had been raised on, this one is his most revealing. The loneliness and solitude he expresses in the lyrics resonates with me as I have experienced the same isolation.
I believed in his plight - maintaining a childlike innocence in the face of a world ready to strip it cruelly away - because I was living it as well. It was as if he knew my heart, even though we never knew one another. But he was as much a part of my life growing up as he was for anyone else in my generation. The same man that terrified me as a little girl with his transformation into a fearsome monster also delighted me with stories of love, loss, the nature of human beings, and the importance of making a change in the world by first changing myself. He inspired me to be me, regardless of whether it's socially acceptable.
There aren't enough words to fully express my shock and dismay at the loss of such an amazing personality. He was a Godsend, a life born into a world that didn't understand him but he gave his heart and soul to bring everyone together through music. I can say that my life has been blessed by his music and his life, no matter how the media looked to twist and spin it. A piece of my heart (along with millions of others) has been lost with his passing, but there is solace in the fact that he lives through the music that he invested all of himself into.
His body is an immobile shell - his influence, his art, his soul will live on.
Thank you Michael, for being who you were. Rest well, my childhood friend...