I always wondered how Michael Jackson was going to live with all he had done. Now I know.

I never wanted to be like Michael Jackson, even before he was accused of child molestation. I loved his music. Billie Jean, Bad, Smooth Criminal, Black or White, Jam, these and many others are some of the best pop songs that will ever be written. But there was always something off and very sad about Michael Jackson. His Neverland Ranch was not a home. His lack of a band or even constant real companions seemed evoked a deep loneliness. And where were the babes? I mean that with utter seriousness. Where were the stunning blonds and brunettes? Michael Jackson was a young, rich, successful pop star and he didn't have a girlfriend? Or a boyfriend? He was ALONE?

He was.

And then he started in on the plastic surgery in earnest and something became painfully clear: I wasn't the only one who didn't want to be like Michael Jackson. And as he continued to transform himself into, well, I'm not sure what and I don't think he was either, I wondered how on earth he would be able to live with what he was doing to himself. How could he wake up in the morning after another round of plastic surgery and be glad for it? More important, how was he going to grow old? What would happen to the implants, reshaped bones, and stretched, bleached skin? (Speaking of the skin, I once met a person who had actually spent a day with Michael Jackson and he said MJ's skin looked like suede.) And then came the rumours of child molestation, which I, sadly, believed and still believe. How could he carry on amidst all this?

Now I have my answer. In my opinion, Michael Jackson wanted to die. Whether he commited suicide or not, I will never know for sure, but I am positive he wished to be dead -- and remembered.

Michael Jackson, I will remember you, the good and the bad, but I am glad you are dead. Watching you live was a horror show, and I would only wish your life on my absolute worst enemies. It pains me to say that, it does, but I think you would agree. For yours was a life no one could live with.

RIP, Michael Jackson.