Angelica Marisa Jackson was exactly like her beloved father Michael. She was humble. She was shy. She was sweet and cared for others. But most of all, she hated being in the public eye.
And not only did Angelica Jackson act like her father, she also looked exactly like him, especially in his gorgeous bad and dangerous eras. She had beautiful black curls that fell all the way to her back, and framed the front of her face which illuminated her large, marvelous eyes. She was as thin as a broom, but as tall as a skyscraper. She was a lovely teenager.
Unfortunately, Angelica also suffered from the terrible skin disease her father was stricken with in his adulthood: Vitiligo. This left her skin with blotches, which she usually covered up with medication or cream. But it was still very hard for her to hide it.
Either way Angelica was misunderstood, much like her father
*Hayvenhurst*
Angelica sat in her orange plush chair and pondered. She pondered about herself.
It wasn’t the first time this had happened. Every time she sat in that chair she wondered about her life, her future. She had a family full of talent. They could sing, dance, just about everything you can imagine. Meanwhile, she ended up being born talentless. The poor delicate soul couldn’t dance nor could she sing. Plus, she was shy as anything, shyer than her father. She hated being on camera, having everyone watching her, she cringed at the thought. Showbiz was not her forte. She was happy with herself nonetheless.
What really hurt her was the cruelty of some of her family members. Her cousins would always tell her how much of a coward she was. Tease her about how she couldn’t dance. How she could continue the family legacy, but chose not to. Sadly, it wasn’t her choice. It was what God had wanted for her. And God didn’t want her to dance.
Somehow she always found a way to cope with the rudeness. Her cousins and siblings enjoyed filming movies. Most of the time, while they were downstairs filming, Angelica would stay upstairs and write in her diary, sitting in her orange chair, looking out the window. Cameras made her nervous, and she would never set foot inside the filming room, to be yelled at by the people she called her family. Ever since her cousins found out about her “showbiz complex” as they called it, they have taken a funny attitude towards her. And ever since they moved to Hayvenhurst, so have her siblings.
So she usually stayed upstairs alone. Sometimes, she felt like an outcast from her own family. Most of the time she’d call her dad at night while he was touring, and have long conversations with him. Sometimes her grandmother, her sweet, sweet grandmother would talk to her, and sometimes Aunt Janet. When Blanket wasn’t downstairs, he’d come up and hangout with her. But that was it. Everyone else was too preoccupied….
Sometimes she’d sit in a corner and cry, thinking how she wasn’t good enough. But then she would stop, get up, snap out of it all. She would remind herself of her relationship with God, and how much her father loved her. Then she’d sit back down in her chair and wonder, ponder about, life.
And only the series of upcoming events at Hayvenhurst will unveil the truth about her future and shortening tolerance for her family.
And not only did Angelica Jackson act like her father, she also looked exactly like him, especially in his gorgeous bad and dangerous eras. She had beautiful black curls that fell all the way to her back, and framed the front of her face which illuminated her large, marvelous eyes. She was as thin as a broom, but as tall as a skyscraper. She was a lovely teenager.
Unfortunately, Angelica also suffered from the terrible skin disease her father was stricken with in his adulthood: Vitiligo. This left her skin with blotches, which she usually covered up with medication or cream. But it was still very hard for her to hide it.
Either way Angelica was misunderstood, much like her father
*Hayvenhurst*
Angelica sat in her orange plush chair and pondered. She pondered about herself.
It wasn’t the first time this had happened. Every time she sat in that chair she wondered about her life, her future. She had a family full of talent. They could sing, dance, just about everything you can imagine. Meanwhile, she ended up being born talentless. The poor delicate soul couldn’t dance nor could she sing. Plus, she was shy as anything, shyer than her father. She hated being on camera, having everyone watching her, she cringed at the thought. Showbiz was not her forte. She was happy with herself nonetheless.
What really hurt her was the cruelty of some of her family members. Her cousins would always tell her how much of a coward she was. Tease her about how she couldn’t dance. How she could continue the family legacy, but chose not to. Sadly, it wasn’t her choice. It was what God had wanted for her. And God didn’t want her to dance.
Somehow she always found a way to cope with the rudeness. Her cousins and siblings enjoyed filming movies. Most of the time, while they were downstairs filming, Angelica would stay upstairs and write in her diary, sitting in her orange chair, looking out the window. Cameras made her nervous, and she would never set foot inside the filming room, to be yelled at by the people she called her family. Ever since her cousins found out about her “showbiz complex” as they called it, they have taken a funny attitude towards her. And ever since they moved to Hayvenhurst, so have her siblings.
So she usually stayed upstairs alone. Sometimes, she felt like an outcast from her own family. Most of the time she’d call her dad at night while he was touring, and have long conversations with him. Sometimes her grandmother, her sweet, sweet grandmother would talk to her, and sometimes Aunt Janet. When Blanket wasn’t downstairs, he’d come up and hangout with her. But that was it. Everyone else was too preoccupied….
Sometimes she’d sit in a corner and cry, thinking how she wasn’t good enough. But then she would stop, get up, snap out of it all. She would remind herself of her relationship with God, and how much her father loved her. Then she’d sit back down in her chair and wonder, ponder about, life.
And only the series of upcoming events at Hayvenhurst will unveil the truth about her future and shortening tolerance for her family.
Blazing 'Cross The Evening Sky
Gone Too Soon
Like A Rainbow
Fading In The Twinkling Of An Eye
Gone Too Soon
Shiny And Sparkly
And Splendidly Bright
Here One Day
Gone One Night
Like The Loss Of Sunlight
On A Cloudy Afternoon
Gone Too Soon
Like A Castle
Built Upon A Sandy Beach
Gone Too Soon
Like A Perfect Flower
That Is Just Beyond Your Reach
Gone Too Soon
Born To Amuse, To Inspire, To Delight
Here One Day
Gone One Night
Like A Sunset
Dying With The Rising Of The Moon
Gone Too Soon
Gone Too Soon
link
you know i think Michael really wanted to change the world. you can tell because of his songs like man in the mirror,heal the heal world,earth song,black or white,and they don't care about us. and it is so sad that he pasted and when i looked at the video they don't care about us i really started to cry becuase is was so happy to see all the people that loved him and saw him. i mean he was and still the king of pop. i mean Michael had kids,family, and fans and Michael song you are not alone in so meaningful atfer his death. :( I LOVE YOU MICHAEL!!!
Bass note, treble, stereo control, how low you go
Just enough to make your juices flow
Press play, don't stop, rotate, too hot
You feel I'm real
I'm everything you need, so tell me what's the deal
Chorus
2000 Watts, 8 ohms, 200 volts, real strong
Too much of that, fuse blown
Be careful what you say don't overload
2000 Watts, 8 ohms, 200 volts, real strong
Too much of that, fuse blown
Be careful what you say don't overload
3D, high speed, feedback, Dolby
Release two or three, when I reach I can go 'till I hit my peak
Compact steelo, chico, D-Lo, highpost lady
Shorty really wanna be there for me
Chorus
2000 Watts, 8 ohms, 200 volts, real strong
Too much of that, fuse blown
Be careful what you say don't overload
2000 Watts, 8 ohms, 200 volts, real strong
Too much of that, fuse blown
Just enough to make your juices flow
Press play, don't stop, rotate, too hot
You feel I'm real
I'm everything you need, so tell me what's the deal
Chorus
2000 Watts, 8 ohms, 200 volts, real strong
Too much of that, fuse blown
Be careful what you say don't overload
2000 Watts, 8 ohms, 200 volts, real strong
Too much of that, fuse blown
Be careful what you say don't overload
3D, high speed, feedback, Dolby
Release two or three, when I reach I can go 'till I hit my peak
Compact steelo, chico, D-Lo, highpost lady
Shorty really wanna be there for me
Chorus
2000 Watts, 8 ohms, 200 volts, real strong
Too much of that, fuse blown
Be careful what you say don't overload
2000 Watts, 8 ohms, 200 volts, real strong
Too much of that, fuse blown
There were no albums bigger than Thriller and Bad, and Jackson seemed to be just entering his prime as an artist.
In hindsight, considering the astonishing heights he hit in the 1980s, maybe there was nowhere to go but down. On top of the world profeessionally, his persional affairs increasingly came under the microscope and seemed to gradually bleed the life and vibrancy out of the mercurial artist.
The new decade sarted off with Jackson in the studio, recording his new album, Dangerous. Jackson had recently signed a 15-years, six-record deal with sony, and if the singer was able to deliver sales numbers comparable to what he posted in the 1980s, the deal was estimated to have an earing power of up to $1 billion.
Dangerous got off to a great start-it debuted at number one and quickly outpaced the sales of Bad.