So...apparently, Farrah Fawcett and Michael Jackson had some kind of prior engagement that they had to attend on the same fucking day. And I am told Heath Ledger had already RSVP'ed to that one.
It's so sad that the icons that you know and love just suddenly up and quit this life, like they're telling you, it's your turn now to make a difference. And then, you ask, "Me? I don't know shit about making a difference." But then, you turn to the other people who have been having a go at it, and they are just a mess, a big fucking mess. They don't even try to be iconic.
I'm not making any sense. I knew I wouldn't.
Last night I had a dream that my car got stolen and I saw them drive away with it, and the rest of the robbers watched me panic to call the cops and they just laughed. They didn't mind that I saw their faces, they just laughed to my face, like they were mocking me. I was so fucking happy when I woke up from that one.
And then today, a seemingly normal Thursday in June, the King of Pop dies, just like that. Disappeared just like my car did in that dream.
Oh, it hurts so much I cannot even put it into words.
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