Michael Jackson was one of those accursed people who live on the honed and honeyed edge.
He was lost in his own private jungle with a horrifying past, no reality and no tomorrow.
He adorned a magical fantasyland where he was godlike and could do no wrong.
Where power corrupted absolutely and Michael was the blazing centre of the known universe.
Where the law of cause and effect didn’t apply.
Where everybody worshipped the sweet honey of fame and nobody ever acknowledged it’s price.
In such a world there is inevitably a monstrous price to pay.
And, from the very beginning, Michael paid it.
He sold his soul.
Samantha Jones is a Canadian journalist publishing her erotic memoir at www.lulu.com)
RSS Feed