After MJ

Michael Jackson died on June 25, 2009. I first heard it on the radio driving home back from work. I remember that I said loud "Whaatt???" And then after a second I thought, "Well, he has aboused his body a lot, consistently. So many discussions about him in the last days. So many people remember the baby dangling from balcony, the little boys saying they were harrased by him, mothers saying he took their boys in his bedroom, all the crazy medical changes he did to his face and body, so many stories about his messed up childhood, and so on and so on. But a lot other people remember his music, his videos, his dance moves, his Neverland dream house. There are a lot of people that till yesterday didn't like him but now that he is dead are trying to be nice and value his music as they have no face to say any other good word about him.

So, in a nutshell, now that he is dead, everyone agrees that he is the greatest pop song maker-singer-dancer-video_maker-concert_coreographer, of the last 50 years.

He was 50, would have been 51 in a couple of months. Had a severe heart attack and his doctor is being asked a lot of questions and is put under magnifying glass for all his actions. Lately the radios were not broadcasting his music often but these last days you hear nothing but his songs. Just a couple of months ago I bought one of his Best Hits CD and my husband said "Why do you support that child molester?" I felt sort of weird to listen his CD so i kept the windows of my car up when listen and sang along. Just like everyone, I can't deny his wonderful music, the revolution he brought to music, music videos and dance. He was a real artist, original, multi-dimensinal and progressive. Do I think he was a child molester? Not really. I think he was a big child grown on a man's body. He didn't have a proper childhood. His most comfortable place was stage, singing and dancing.He was raised with lots of money that he never new what it meant not to be able to have something he liked. He was the real Peter Pan, that even thought the years go by, he keeps staing a little boy in the heart and mind. So if he really had little boys in his bedroom, if he really played with little boys in his house, I think he played just like a 12 years old boy would play when his friends are over at his place. All those mothers behind thouse court cases, are now rich and they do not feel guilty to have left their little boys in his bedroom.

I will miss his un-made music. I really wanted him to come back with a smash hit album and show the middle finger to all those people that talked bad about him but would go and download his music becasue they would be embarrased to go and buy the CD at the store. I so wanted to hear more from him, now, at my age. All I remember is his music when I was a teenager. Now I would have gone to a live concert and sing along with him. Would have been awsome, just like all his live concerts. I so wanted to hear new music that would have showd to Beyonce and Britney Spears how the real music is done without shaking the butt and showing the boobs. So, I will miss him.
Everyone will come up with a new version of his songs just like Chris Cornell, Fall Out boys, Akon, etc.
What does a guy have to do to be celebrated for his talent? He must DIE! And if he hadn't gone on those courts, he would have been buried like Elvis Presley, in tears and in pure desperation.
Rest in Peace wherever you are having dinner tonight!

Stories from '80

Storie Di Tutti I Giorni : (M.Fabrizio/G.Morra/R.Fogli) Storie di tutti i giorni, vecchi discorsi sempre da fare, storie ferme sulle panchine in attesa di un lieto fine; storie di noi brava gente che fa fatica, s'innamora con niente, vita di sempre, ma in mente grandi idee. Un giorno in più che se ne va un orologio fermo da un'eternità per tutti quelli così come noi da sempre in corsa, sempre a metà; un giorno in più che passa, ormai, con questo amore che non è grande come vorrei. Storie come amici perduti che cambiano strada, se li saluti; storie che non fanno rumore come una stanza chiusa a chiave; storie che non hanno futuro, come un piccolo punto su un grande muro dove scriverci un rigo a una donna che non c'è più. Un giorno in più che se ne va, un uomo stanco che nessuno ascolterà per tutti quelli così come noi senza trionfi, né grossi guai; un giorno in più che passa ,ormai, con questo amore che non è bello come vorrei. Storie come anelli di fumo in un posto lontano, senza nessuno solo una notte che non finisce mai. Un giorno in più che se ne va dimenticato fra i rumori di città, per tutti quelli come noi niente è cambiato e niente cambierà; un giorno in più che passa ormai con questo amore che non è forte come vorrei.

Everyday Stories : (M.Fabrizio/G.Morra/R.Fogli) Everyday stories Old conversations always to do Stories closed on benches Waiting for a happy ending Stories of brave people like us That get tired, fall in love with nothing, Normal life, but in mind have big ideas One more day that passes by One clock stopped by an eternity For everyone that is just like us Always in rush, always in half One more day that passes by now With this love that is not as big as I would want it Stories like lost friends That change way if you greet Stories that do not make rumors Like a room locked with a key Stories that do not have a future Like a little dot in a big wall Where you would write a line To a woman that no longer is here One more day that passes One tired man that no one will listen to For all of them just like us Without triumphs or big messes One more day that passes by now With this love that is not as pretty as I would want it Stories like smoke rings In a place far away, with nobody Only one night that never ends One more day that passes Forgotten within the rumors of the city For all of them like us Nothing is changed and nothing will One more day that passes by now With this love that is not as strong as I would want it

Long distance family

Last week I was invited on Facebook by my cousin on her wedding. Today a friend of mine told me that my cousin he meet on Facebook told him that my uncle has passed away 2 days ago. I called my home and my dad confirmed, the funeral was done.
Being so far from home, I thought I miss the good times like weddings or my cousins getting together on a week-long trip at the sea-side. I so wanted to be there and have fun with them, dance, sing, drink ..all the things that people do on weddings and girls-only-trips.
But today I was reminded that I am missing also the sad days, like funerals. Three years ago my aunt changed life. Hearing that she passed away for sure was a bad news. I was sad and I did try to be as close as I could to my mom on the phone. But being so far, not meeting her regularly, not being close to what she was doing and how she was feeling lately, I did not suffer as much. She can very well be still alive for what I am concerned. I didn't see her laying on a tomb, I do not miss calling someone, I do not remember on what day she passed away. Not long after her, her husband passed away as well. I felt the same. I have the feeling it will be same with my uncle. I am sad he is gone, I am sad to hear that today was his funeral and I didn't even know, I am sad to know that his daughter that lives not far from me arrived late and didn't make it to be in the funeral, I am sad to know that my dad lost a brother. Both my uncle and my aunt are people that are (eventhough in small portions) somehow responsible for who I am today. They have been very close to me when I was a child. They have given me moments that only uncles and aunts can give. My aunt used to always have a chocolate for me. My uncle used to always make beach sandals every summer when I went on vacation. He used to make nail polish too, with some weird liquids he always had on his desk at work. My aunt always used to visit me at the summer kids camp and take me out for a good lunch. Her husband had a motorbike and he used to take me for rides.
I am sad. I am scared. I am worried. I feel I am becoming a "cold North American" person. I feel this kind of life is sucking me and my energy. I am loosing reality of who is alive. I am becoming a movie character for my family and they are for me the people that know all about me without questions. I used to be part of them. Now I have become a Moon, goes around them but stays far from them. I am not part of their bad days but we talk on the phone. I am not part of their good days but I see the pictures from those days. And I am not on those pictures.