Now, MJ is a man whom I've adored for many years. I had a picture of him on my 3rd grade reading folder, wearing that baby yellow vest, with his perfectly styled Jheri curl. "Human Nature" was written across the top. I kissed that picture more than I care to share.
My devotion runs deep. I used to sing "Ben" to my very own rat. (Sick, I know. FYI: I no longer enjoy rodents.) I moon walked. I asked mi madre to buy me a sparkly, white glove (I skipped the red "Beat It" jacket). I was glued to the news when I heard M.J.'s Jheri curl caught fire, while he was shooting the Pepsi commercial.
The only way I can comfort myself in these dark and dire times (besides sipping a diet Dr. Pepper, which I've been sober from for three days straight) is DANCE! Here's a video of me and my homegurl shakin' it like a Polaroid picture to "Beat It." Press play if you dare.
P.S. I totally messed up. That's why my homegurl is shooting me with looks of disgust throughout the entire video (I'll never be cool enough for her. Never.)
The Church is still true.