Someone died.
Not Michael Jackson, he won't die.
A star from outer space, with dazzling light, instantly fell! Disappear into the sky.
A wisp of smoke can't be dispersed for a long time.
Go to hell! No time to call for help, no time to say goodbye. I was so busy when I was alive and so lonely when I died. I was going to set off another wave of music waves, and I was about to debut, but it suddenly ended!
For thirty years, you have occupied people's memory. As enchanting as a demon, as a thousand-year-old elf. Between the sky, you still reverberate like a man or a woman, flying over the deep valley of your heart, which makes people feel really excited. My mind is still full of dreamy images of you dancing and trembling.
You were murdered. Many people participated in this amazing murder! You didn't die of disease, cancer or heart disease. This is the sophistry of your killer. You died of your uniqueness, your suffocating talent, your temperament that belongs only to the sky, and your maverick personality.
No one can surpass your achievements. That kind of brilliance and madness, that kind of passion and calmness, that kind of selfless art, you are not a singer or a dancer, you are a god! The immortal god who travels through time and space!
I can't help crying over your death. They murdered you collectively and then held a funeral for you! Your outstanding talent makes them jealous. They laugh at you, spy on you and entertain their lives. You have contributed great art to this era, and the world has given you the most vicious attack.
Are you the darling of heaven? Otherwise, how could the stars shine all over the world for 30 years? And why are you so lonely and helpless, so confused and lonely, who cares about your mood? Who really cheers for your Excellence?
No one is more confused, elegant and flustered than you! No one loves music like you. You can not only write your own words and compose music, but also direct the stage, lighting, scenes and draw pictures that surprise you! You seem to be floating alone in your own time and space, and people's infatuation with you has become so chaotic.
Staring at the bad news between screens, crying for you again and again. Surging tears, unable to restrain. Sigh your talent, but also sigh the secular first frost. In this way, you get lost in ridicule, curse, support and infatuation, get seriously injured in moral races again and again, and disappear without a trace.
They know that your talent is destined to come from your loneliness, from some madness and grotesque, from a unique voice of life, but they can't appreciate your darkness while enjoying your outstanding performance. Your outstanding darkness is your own paradise, but they insist on burying it, even you. While you contribute great passion and joy to people, you are under pressure and blame from people! You are so wronged and nervous to escape, to create and to hurt. This is the cause of your death! There are many people who should be responsible. People need fantasy creation, but they lack tolerance for wizards!
People laugh at your plastic surgery, but they also marvel at your courage. I always thought that plastic surgery was your masterpiece, your charm burning in people's hearts, and your unique beauty. It is not you who fail, but the doctor's filth. After receiving the money, they showed their ugly faces. They are not responsible for this failed work of art, but they attribute it to your eccentricity. They didn't tell the public that without the doctor's promise, who would take such a risk? Then, by the way, they sold you a lot of medicine, saying it was to maintain your image. Finally, these drugs become an advanced combination that hurts you.
Michael Jackson represents an era. An era of alternation between the old and the new, an era of peace and chaos. He has the same blood, the same passion and confusion, the same fanaticism and loneliness. Now, who should I cry for and pay tribute to?
There are also some professional killers who conspired to cheat you of your money, but left poison behind. They waited for you to die of a heart attack before shamelessly telling the truth: "Physical examination can't actually detect the precursors of heart disease." They also said that you have cancer, and they used their professional power to trick you into playing Demerol regularly. Besides, your cause of death is unknown. They trick you into taking drugs for a long time, and you take drugs! . They killed you! You died because of a pervert! They know that the only medicine you need is happiness, that is, respect, but they won't prescribe the formula you really need. They look at your pain and loneliness coldly, but they don't give you directions.
What makes me cry is not only your death, but also my lament for life. You gave people unprecedented passion, but you let yourself die alone.
The whole world is mourning for you. Prove your amazing influence. Prove how much people need to entertain you, including that you can contribute to GDP even if you die, and you can contribute to entertainment even if you die. You have nothing. You never even intend to ask for it, because you are the person who donates the most in the world, but you are heavily in debt and no one supports you! You are never even ready to be a superstar, because you always choose to sigh alone in the night sky. Your only love, you want to give it to your children, but they say you are a pedophile! The only thing that keeps you alive is your madness in the art of expressing your passion for life and your desire to explore the theme of life. Now, this feeling has disappeared, and you can only fall from the stars and turn to dust!
Tomorrow, all members of Sunshine Forest will stop all recreational activities for you and pray for you together. You are a great man worthy of attention. Your dedication has made countless people experience passionate language and reflection and love for life all the time. You always appear on every stage like an elf.
Tomorrow, all members of Sunshine Forest will fast together for one day to pay homage to and mourn this superstar who brought us joy, memories, accompanied us to grow up and brought us youthful turmoil.
There is less light in the starry sky. In memory, there is more melancholy. Michael Jackson, so you live in your own paradise! The stars are always shining!