We all listened to Michael Jackson and watched him grow in some way, shape or form. Early on, we all knew there was something quite special and unique about him. Something so astronomically enormous that it had the potential of possibly consuming him  -- even as stars in our galaxy, after shining their brightest, suddenly explode or in this case, pass on....

Even when he did his first Neil Armstrong impression and ended it with a toe stand that would rival many seasoned ballet dancers for years to come, it was still but a mere glimpse of the brilliant streak of light his comet-like presence would allow him to become, almost overnight.

Never before had a man transcended so many heights faster than Superman and broken more barriers than the Incredible Hulk.

Following the Motown 25th anniversary celebration, this mild-mannered, soft-spoken, genteel young man would literally transform once his foot touched a stage. In fact, touched is an understatement for - quite possibly - the greatest pop dancer of our time for this man seemed to walk on, at least, a centimeter of air.

For me, Michael always bore a striking resemblance to the Biblical character David, the youngest of his brothers chosen to be the king of all Israel. He was so unassuming and inhibited, at least to the naked eye. Yet, when he was anointed, he rose to the occasion and not only became the greatest king the nation had ever seen, he was called the man after God's own heart.

In a similar fashion, Michael - this seemingly shy and introverted young man - confidently and modestly accepted the title of King of Pop and cemented himself as the one and only; no predecessor, no successor.

This king, much like David, was the definition of humanitarian. He truly accepted that, as a ruler, his life and his time were no longer his own. He gave and gave and gave until it became as natural as breathing. He currently holds the Guinness World Record for most charities supported by a pop star/icon, which should be no surprise to any of us.

Now, if you are not an entertainer of any sort, do not lament that there is nothing you can pull from the life of one who lived so regally and outrageously, yet somehow also silently and humbly.

He didn't just set a huge example for entertainers both Black and White, (as Michael seemed to be wonderfully colorblind) but for people everywhere.

Michael Jackson seemed to know that he wasn't just an entertainer or a mega- philanthropist. It's almost as though he realized and recognized that simply by virtue of being himself, by letting his light shine as brightly as possible, he would indirectly give others the permission to do the same….others like me, not just one of his biggest fans, but one of his many, many, many brothers.

Sadly, even before his untimely passing, Michael often seemed to bear a great weight on his shoulders and on his spirit. The thing about someone who gives everything of themselves is that they too are human and more than anyone seek to have their love reciprocated.

As one who was ostracized as a young child for speaking and thinking differently from my peers, I only can sympathize with a mere fraction of what Michael went through; being jeered, mocked and laughed at, despite his attempts to put his best foot forward as the human being he was.

Seemingly, the price of being great proved to be too high and Michael withdrew further, saying and doing things that revealed something we had all forgotten he possessed: a very human and flawed mind, body and soul.

But, even as his impending death crept up behind him, Michael did what he did best.

He dusted himself off and stood tall and strong, his regal countenance unscathed by all that he had gone through. When he stood and declared the undeniable and inevitable 'Return of the King', he had no idea that his body would fail him, though his mind, soul and spirit were stronger than ever.

When I got the news of his death, it was from my good friend and fellow artist Shanelle Gabriel. I'm not sure if she knows, but when we spoke on the phone, I cried but held back my tears trying to console her, as well.

I felt as though a huge chunk of the world's atmosphere had been deleted, and this has nothing to do with music. The image of E.T. dying and the flowers at his bedside wilting along with him were revived in my memory.

Ironically, later that night, we had one of the worst, yet brief thunderstorms in NY this summer -- June 25th, 2009.

In a tearful outro, Michael once said to me, "In our darkest hour, in my deepest despair, will you still care? Will you be there? In my trials and my tribulations. Through our doubts and frustrations. In my violence; in my turbulence; Through my fear and my confessions. In my anguish and my pain. Through my joy and my sorrow. In the promise of another tomorrow. I'll never let you part, for you are always in my heart...."

I wish I had gotten to speak with him. I would've given him a Brooklyn pound and a hug and said, "Michael, I see you. I've always seen you."