Michael Jackson is dead.
That's about as short and to the point as my reaction was at the time but as it begins to sink in more, the gravity of what losing him actually means begins to swell... He was from my perspective a black youth in the bronx, a damn hero honestly. My parents worshiped him. I couldn't believe the things he was capable of doing both vocally and physically. I sang his songs, wanted to be a singer like him when i was little. He inspired me to work hard since he proved anybody could do anything no matter who they are or where they come from. His death means A LOT no matter how fucked up he became later in life.
Michael Jackson is dead.
A part of me died too.
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