I was really sad when I learnt the news that our King of Pop was already dead at the age of 50. When celebrities of your times start to drop dead, it is one indication that you're getting old.
But other than that, I was upset that being the sensation he was, I never had the chance to being part of it. I was envious of my colleague who managed to catch his concert when he was in Singapore eons back. She marvelled, a tad sadly, that he was a brilliant performer and that it might have been the best concert she ever gone to. And just like anyone else was, shocked of his sudden demise. Died just when he decided to return to the entertainment world. His iconic tantalizing dance moves, his songs and those injected high-pitched "oohs" will be missed.
We talked a bit of his life, which was... a little sad and crazy for the last few years. Commenting on the paintings, his house, whatever he sold off when he was in dire financial straits and how their values most likely would rocket sky-high now, with his departure.
Isn't it sad, that it's human nature to only regret and cherish whatever/whoever that has already been lost?
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