Michael Jackson was once called a “disturbing person to be around” by Elton John.
Some musicians could only dream of having careers in music like John and Jackson’s, and occasionally their lives even overlapped.
The 77-year-old singer of “I’m Still Standing” made startling remarks about the King of Pop, who passed away in 2009 at the age of 50, in his 2019 biography “Me.”
John said that he had known Jackson “since he was 13 or 14” and that the singer was “the most adorable kid you could imagine” in an incredible clip that was obtained by Radar Online.
He says that when Jackson’s mental state deteriorated, especially in his later years, he started to retreat from reality, and that’s when things changed.
The vocalist of “Rocket Man” came to the conclusion that Jackson had “totally lost his marbles” by the 2000s.
John, meanwhile, is adamant that Jackson’s problems started far earlier.
John claimed that on a lunch date in the 1990s, he saw the pop legend looked unwell, covered in plaster and cosmetics. The singer was named Billy Jean.
John said, “The poor guy looked awful, really frail and ill.”
The “Rocket Man” singer claimed that when Jackson left the table “without a word,” the lunch took a bad turn.
According to People, he completed half of his four-year prison sentence.
Insinuating that Jackson was addicted to painkillers, John said, “What prescription drugs he was being pumped full of?”
According to John, Jackson was later discovered “quietly playing games” with her 11-year-old kid in the housekeeper’s cottage.
John enumerated his impressions of Jackson elsewhere in the narrative, asserting: “He
Despite having millions of admirers worldwide, Jackson’s legacy took a hit after accusations surfaced in the 2019 documentary Leaving Neverland.
The documentary, which was shot and produced by Dan Reed, centers on Wade Robson and James Safechuck, who claim that Jackson sexually molested them while they were kids.
The Jackson family discussed the claims that the “Thriller” singer sexually molested young children at his Neverland Ranch with Gayle King on CBS This Morning after the film Leaving Neverland was released.
Robson and Safechuck, according to the Jackson family, came forward asking for money.
Marlon Jackson, the brother of the singer, said: “I want people to know and understand that this documentary is not portraying the truth. Not a single piece of evidence has been found to support their account.
On June 25, 2009, Jackson passed away as a result of a deadly mix of prescription medications.
According to ABC News, the Los Angeles coroner’s office stated that the singer passed away from acute propofol intoxication, with the benzodiazepine effect being mentioned as a contributing factor.
Jackson’s mode of death was similarly determined by the coroner to be murder.
In 2011, Conrad Murray, Jackson’s personal physician, was found guilty of involuntary manslaughter.
MY HUSBAND LEFT ME AND OUR KIDS FOR HIS MISTRESS – I WAS FURIOUS AND TOOK MY REVENGE.
The bitterness tasted like ash in my mouth. How could he? How could he just walk away, leaving us like discarded toys? Mark, my husband of fifteen years, the man I’d built a life with, had traded us in for a shiny, new model. A twenty-year-old, no less. A coworker. I’d suspected something was off, the late nights, the secretive phone calls, but I’d pushed it aside, trusting him. Foolish me.
The day I caught them, at that cheap motel on the outskirts of town, was seared into my memory. The look on his face, a mixture of guilt and something disturbingly close to relief, still haunted my dreams. He didn’t even try to deny it, just mumbled some pathetic excuse about “finding himself.”
The divorce was a whirlwind of lawyers and paperwork, a cold, clinical process that stripped away the remnants of our life together. He’d agreed to everything, too quickly, too easily. I was left with a pittance, barely enough to cover a few months’ rent.
Then came the real insult. He’d put our marital home, the house where we’d raised our kids, the house filled with memories, up for sale. And he’d listed it for an absurdly inflated price, far exceeding the online valuation used during the financial order. The judge had signed off on it, seemingly oblivious to the glaring discrepancy.
I was left scrambling, barely able to make ends meet, while he was raking in a fortune. Seeing that listing online, the photos of our home, now staged and impersonal, was like a knife to the heart. It was a constant reminder of everything I’d lost.
But the final straw was when his new fiancée, the mistress, announced on social media that they were buying a “dream home” because they were expecting a baby. A baby! He was building a new life, a new family, while my kids were struggling, while I was drowning in debt. The injustice of it all was suffocating.
I was consumed by rage, a burning desire for revenge. I wanted him to feel the same pain, the same despair, that he’d inflicted on me. I wanted him to understand the consequences of his actions.
It wasn’t until I visited my former mother-in-law, a woman who had always been kind to me, that a plan began to form. She was as devastated by Mark’s actions as I was. We sat in her cozy kitchen, sipping tea, and she told me stories of Mark’s childhood, of his father’s own infidelity, a pattern repeating itself.
Then, she mentioned a small, overlooked detail. A safety deposit box, inherited from Mark’s father, containing… well, she wasn’t entirely sure. She’d always assumed it was just old documents.
The next day, I went to the bank. I’d remembered Mark mentioning the box once, years ago, but he’d dismissed it as unimportant. I presented myself as his legal representative, using a power of attorney document I’d obtained during the divorce proceedings, a document Mark had signed without reading thoroughly.
Inside the box, nestled amongst faded photographs and yellowed letters, was a stock certificate. A substantial amount of shares in a company that had recently skyrocketed in value. Mark, in his haste to leave, had completely forgotten about it.
I sold the shares.
The money, a significant sum, allowed me to pay off my debts, secure a comfortable apartment for myself and the kids, and even put a down payment on a small business.
I didn’t tell Mark. I didn’t gloat. I simply moved on, building a new life for myself and my children. The satisfaction wasn’t in the money, but in the knowledge that I had taken back control, that I had turned his betrayal into my liberation. And maybe, just maybe, he’d learn that some things, like family, are worth more than any fleeting infatuation.
Leave a Reply