The MJ Effect

I have to say, MJ untimely death is having a weird effect on me.
I watched a concert of his on tv last night and it made me cry.
I know it looks stupid when you see fans crying and fainting at the concert, but I can understand how overwhelming the feelings can be to watch MJ on stage.
I can't explain it.
It's not as if I asked my eyes to cry.
It just comes, in a wave of emotions.
Taking over...and you're in awe.

I doubt anyone can be bigger than MJ in my lifetime.
And that got me pondering again.
About life.

MJ was so successful that it made him lonely.
Not knowing who are his friends, who are his family.
I truly believe it's possible to be lonely even when you're in a crowd.
I've felt it before.
It's paralyzing.
And I think what MJ felt would've been 100 times worst than mine.

I've been yo-yoing between happiness and sadness in the past year.
One minute I'm having all the faith in the world and the next minute, crushing myself in suspicions and self pity.
It drives me nuts.
I know what is good for me, and what is eating my alive.
But I can't stop it.
I wish I could.
That's why I sympathized with MJ.
Demons in his mind consumed him.
He was so handsome...and yet, he saw imperfections.
In the end, he's probably the only one who saw beauty in his altered face.

I'm afraid I might end up being like him.
Not realizing who I really am.
Trying to be someone I'm not happy with.
Putting on a mask everyday to make everyone else happy but me.

I'm trying to find my balance.
Between expectations and reality.
When everyone around me are in the rat race, I'm the bystander.
Looking lost and envious.
But should I be envious?

That's the bloody question I can't seem to answer myself.

The grass always looks greener on the other side.
But is it really?

What's it feel like to be contented?
I know I should be.
My life ain't bad.
I didn't grow up in poverty.
I studied and got my degree.
I don't have to work.
I'm not a supermodel but I don't look bad.
I'm not as tall as I like to be but I'm glad I'm not a midget.

But something is missing.
And I don't know what it is.
I've been asking myself the same questions over and over again.

What do I want?
How can someone give me something to make me happy when I myself do not know what is it that I want?
There are things I want to do.
And yet, I can't.

I'm sad, I'm angry, I'm lost.