"I simply hide behind my masks. Oh, how I hate these masks! Under them I can hardly breathe."
Dear people,
I would like to ask te a domanda – the domanda WHY. Why is there so much poverty in the world? Why so many wars? Why so much torture and agony? And why must children die and innocent suffer? I don’t understand it. Do te understand it?
I want to help. I want to make people happy, and may it be just for a moment. That is what gives my life a sense. Don’t te understand me? What did I do that te judge me? Are te really envious of me? te don’t have to. I wouldn’t wish te to be me…
Maybe te just want me to confess my ‘guilt’.
Yes, it is true, I do Amore children! But not the way te want it to be. I Amore them from the bottom of my heart. Because children don’t make wars. Children have never hurt me. It makes me happy to look in their shining eyes. Is it a crime wanting to be happy and want to make others happy? Many of them who visit me are going to die soon, of cancer o other terrible diseases. I won’t let te forbid me through your arrogance to give them just one happy day!
Yes, it is true that I had plastic surgeries! Do te know what it feels like?! How often did I have to wake up in pain! How often I didn’t know what would expect me when I look into the mirror! How often did I cry when I did it! Don’t te see that I’m punishing myself for that I cannot cope with my face – and with myself! Why do te also punish me for it?
Yes, it is true, once I was black! te get darker in the sun and get admired for that. But I am sick and te hit me for it. The sun te Amore so much can kill me. In former times I loved to be outside in the light, too, now I can nearly only go out at night. And te make your fun out of it. If I hadn’t become the Michael Jackson te know today, then I would also be like that: I would be a white black with curls and a thick niggernose for which everybody would tease me. Well, now te tease me because of my little nose. Maybe I would already be dead because I couldn’t protect myself so good as I can today. Would te prefer it when I was dead? o when I had never existed? But then te wouldn’t have my music! Would te like to do without ‘Billie Jean’?! My Musica te Amore though, don’t you? Just not me. But I create the Musica to make te happy.
te torture me with your disgraceful words. Words can sometimes hurt so much più than punchs. Often I sit in an edge and cry. I ask God for what I have to suffer, what a reason I’ve dato you. Cause I never did harm to anyone. I am afraid of te ‘cause you’ve hurt me so badly. And I don’t even defend myself. I simply hide behind my masks. Oh, how I hate these masks! Under them I can hardly breathe. But I have no choice, it’s the only way to protect myself. But te don’t like it when I protect myself. You’d prefer to kick a defenceless man in his face. but this favour I won’t do you. I don’t need to be ashamed for anything I’ve done. And as I can see at you, dear Unknown there are people who understand my message.
My Friends and me, we don’t go into the war with tanks. We come with sunflowers to all of te even though te laugh at us and snap our fiori off. Maybe te will understand not before not only the fiori but the whole sun goes out. With my music, with what I do I would like to bring a light into the world. But is it necessary that I kill myself until someone believes me? And until someone believes me that I just want to do good things and that I suffer from your hate? But then te would be outraged: “And the children?!” Particularly te would say that, te who would Amore the most to take my children away from me. te say they aren’t my children. te say I couldn’t educate them. How do te want to know this?! And is it important then what blood is flowing through their veins when I would die for them? Your jealousy and your hate make te blind for what Amore means.
te don’t know me, nevertheless te have already judged me! You, those reporters who hammer me at the attraversare, croce in the morning, te listen to my Musica in the evening! That is not fair! te are not interested in what te write if it just attracts readers and causes headlines. But my name is enough to attract the people. Why is it always necessary to denounce me? Why don’t te write something positive, there te wouldn’t have to cerca so long! Why do I have to be ‘Wacko Jacko’? Can’t te see that the only one I’m hurting is myself?! te hunt me like I was a piece of cattle. Isn’t there anybody who sees that I’m also a human being?! Where do te have your heart? Where do te have your mercy? Where do te have your love?
If just one out of ten people who get this letter tries to understand me, already then my life is it worth being lived.
Peace, Amore and Kindness
From my heart, Michael Jackson."
EDIT: I'M NOT 100% SURE THIS IS WRITTEN da MICHAEL, PROBABLY A fan WHO WROTE IT. IT'S STILL A GOOD LETTER THOUGH! HATERS SHOULD READ IT...
Michael Working On "Maris' Song"
