The first thing that came to my mind when I heard that Michael Jackson had died was, is this for real or a just a publicity stunt? I thought that perhaps he was finally tired of the spotlight and maybe he'd had more plastic surgery so he could go away forever in hiding where nobody could ever bother him again.
Maybe he did that by dying. Nobody happy with themselves would ever try to transform themselves in the way that Michael Jackson did with plastic surgery. His pain was literally written all over his face. He went from a happy-looking, talented little kid to a Howard Hughes-class recluse.
I feel sorry for Michael Jackson because he was desperately looking for something and he never found it. Perhaps it was a missing childhood that he apparently tried to experience with boys. Perhaps it was seeking the love of a father, something that he thought he was giving back to those boys in some twisted way.
There is no doubt in looking back on Michael's life that pain clouds the view; his pain and the pain he caused for others through his actions. The pain of the man obscures his accomplishments as a musician in spite of his thrilling musical talent; after all, who lived through the 1980's that was not impacted by his music in some way?
I am so sad that a man can become so isolated and alone that he can commit such atrocities against himself, and perhaps against others. I am so sad that like Peter Pan, Michael Jackson never grew up.
Perhaps the ultimate truth of Peter Pan's story is loneliness. Perhaps the truth of Peter Pan is that ultimately his isolation is inevitable as those he loves grow up and eventually fail to relate to the child that he remains; that is at least, in the joyful way that another child is able, in the way that Michael seemed to value most.
Perhaps the intrinsic sadness of Michael Jackson emanated from the transitory form of love that a Peter Pan is capable of experiencing. Perhaps it emerges from the unchangeable fact that those who Peter Pan truly loves are unstoppably changing - into adults he is incapable of truly loving; and perhaps that lack of capacity is rooted in the fact that he cannot love himself as an adult.
I hear about people celebrating Michael Jackson's life and I wonder how they are doing that in the face of the miserable loneliness of it. His celebrity and his talent was no cure for his pain and his death was a predictable end to a terribly sad life. In the end, Peter Pan could not make the transition from boy to man. I would not be surprised to learn that it was by his own choices that Michael returned to Neverland.
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