The online tributes to Michael Jackson are flying and dancing about the internet and this one, written by Maxine Clarke, is just perfect. Go forth, read it now. I’ll wait for you.
Okay, okay, it’s okay, breathe. Here’s a tissue.
I grew up with Michael Jackson. We all did. The world without him will never be as beautiful, nor as interesting. And yet I have no doubt that where he is now is making him so much happier than being here ever did. Do I think he’s resting in peace? No. I’m pretty sure he’s dancing in it…


Subscribe to into the quiet
My name is Simonne Michelle-Wells. I'm a writer from Melbourne (originally from WA). I have a background in theatre and write theatre reviews for Australian Stage Online. In my day job I'm a speech writer. I've had short fiction published in Cottonmouth, Beyond Words, Box Magazine, The Naked Eye and the inaugural Emerging Writers' Festival Reader. I was awarded a residency at Varuna in 2008 for my first novel, and was the recipient of the 2009 Ada Cambridge Prize for biographical short story writing. I am also the blog administrator for the Varuna Alumni writers' Blog.



4 Comments
June 27, 2009 at 6:20 pm
I think I mourned him long before now. He has not been the ‘Michael Jackson’ we all fell in love with as kids, for a very long time. A sad man.
June 28, 2009 at 5:42 am
I think you’re right Sandy. He got lost somewhere along the line…I hope he’s found his way home now.
June 29, 2009 at 1:01 am
I think he was vastly misunderstood and unsupported. He was so famous from such a young age that he couldn’t do anything ‘normal’. I can’t imagine anything worse. I just don’t understand why the world continues to marginalise people who clearly need help/love by making fun of them, and then, not until death or extreme suffering, do we recognise the hardships that person endured and the need for love and compassion. I don’t get it…
June 29, 2009 at 4:17 am
Me too Simonne, me too. (& I am finally spelling your name right, harrah!) Thankyou for the flick to my website. I bawled while I was writing that poem too