Michael Jackson is dead and I know I'm older than I was before. Michael Jackson is dead and I'm maturing while he rots for ever beneath Neverland, never an adult and never a child. Michael Jackson is dead and I am the one left to dance on the floor in the round.

Have you ever had that moment when you understand yourself? When, either for a moment, or for a few, you understand where you are and how you got there? Michael Jackson had that feeling, you can hear it in his songs and can see it in his feet. We all have that feeling at some point, when something clicks, either audibly or subconsciously. And right now I'm in the mist of self-recognition. I call it a mist because I know it's intangible, I know it's not for words and I know it's likely to clear in the morning. But right now, as I think about Michael Jackson, and I think about myself without really having to think about anything, everything feels calm. It's not happiness and it's not sadness, it's the bond that captures everything between the two.

And it's nothing like a realization. In fact I'm aware of no truths and nothing new, just a calm appreciation of the calm. People are quick to say they've reached an epiphany, but epiphanies don't come around in an instant, they arrive slowly and with warning, and by the time we acknowledge them we've already long ago adopted them as true.

Michael Jackson is dead  and I am a different person than when he was alive. Michael Jackson is dead and I'll be a different person tomorrow. Michael Jackson is dead and we're both leaving Neverland forever.

It's because of Michael Jackson that I know I will have more moments like this in the future. It's because even Michael Jackson, even he who never knew what it was like to be human at all, had moments like this when he at least knew himself.