wide open ramblings after michael jackson’s memorial

i’ve been subsisting on small rations these past few months. i think i want to try and catch up with myself today. they say life is too short. i think it isn’t short enough because i still take it for granted. if death were more inevitable than it already is, i think i would appreciate smaller benefits.

but as it is, more than half my day is deeply embroiled in a rat race of glamorous materials. it reminds me of my crafts projects in grade school when i take dead empty seashells and dip them in glitter.

there are so many things i want to do in addition to the many things i already do. we just put up an advocacy group for parents of children affected by colorectal malformations. i applied again in a language and tutorial center, hoping i could teach english to japanese clients; or algebra to high school children. i want to enroll again in the foreign language class. anything. anything extremely disparate from what i’m doing and from this hollow environment.

are there job openings in any booksellers right now? i can categorize literature. in fact, can i just read aloud to some eccentric old person, just like scout finch?

anyway, i took a leave yesterday to look after my husband, but i ended up playing jewel quest and eating fried chicken from a bucket most of the day. we watched michael jackson’s memorial service and i admit to succumbing to tears, but only when tito jackson took the microphone. and i like smokey robinson, i really do. he shouldn’t die before i get to meet him, it’s that important.

i can’t understand why i feel so affected by michael’s passing. yes, i am a big fan, maybe even a little bigger than some, but i never imagined his death to feel so personally desolate. like as soon as the jackson brothers wheeled the casket out of staples center, i thought my chest was going to cave in, my throat and nasal cavities just felt as if they were being pulled into some biological vortex. and when i looked at michael’s photos as little michael jackson of the jackson 5 with his brothers, and those camera stills from student canteen the first time he and the his brothers came to the philippines in the 70’s, i can’t help but be reminded of my own childhood and how happy it was for a few years.

growing up is such an unwelcome thing. growing older is more acceptable. i wish i had just packed up one day and jumped into the deep end. i think i have come to the point where mistakes and unnecessary risks are no longer tolerated.

michael jackson’s gone. now what am i going to do next?


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