Kristina Furey

Dreams of Pete Townshend

It's 2:13 am in the morning.  I don't know maybe it's just trying to get my thyroid levels right medication changes but I found myself up a lot lately again.  It comes in waves. Early on before I understood the medical side I just imagined, in the middle of the night must when I was most susceptible to epiphanies music and stuff.  It's like in the movie Tommy, when he's trying to explain to the masses they need to shut their hearing off cover their eyes and not speak so they can find themselves. The sleeping hours leave me to my own world, uninterrupted.  I think it was 98 when I was waking up and I was writing songs like “Vulnerable” in the middle of the night while everyone slept. Words and thoughts and ideas coming through me like a radio picking up waves. Broadcasters transmitting from another world another realm another time,  I'm just the receiver. As these things come through I just open my mouth or put pen to paper and it shows up, “I am a musical profit. I am a girl with a logic. Not ordinary but if you listen to me, listen to things, I'll take you places you always knew they exist they're inside of you call it a spiritual journey Call It Whatever You Like whatever you need just start remembering.”. It goes on to explain how we all had a former idea of who we were and then we were born and then there was chaos and the pieces that we were supposed to remember got confusing and lost in the chaos.  So now I sit here at 2:25 in the morning and I think about what Pete Townshend was trying to communicate and how much it resonates with me. It's so magnificent that he was able to do what he did and get as much of that Vision out. I think I've tried to walk in his footsteps, only with my feet bound in high heeled shoes. I can't cover the distance and my feet are bleeding, yet every time I want to trade them in on comfortable walking shoes they tell me those shoes are too big for your feet. As I walk away I hear them behind me saying there goes Alice, her head is getting swelled, she needs to take that pill that makes her small again and I want to kick like a baby in a uterus I want to kick and expand the world because for too long I feel I've been sitting on the curb side with my knees up to my chin,  the weight of the world on my shoulders, I try to balance in my petite hands. Meanwhile these thoughts kick around in my head trying to expand my mind. They keep developing and waiting for that moment when they get born. I thought it would happen when the little girls were asking for Bratz dolls and their mothers were dressing them up and the tiny shorts that said pink and other things across the butt. I thought it again as I stared at the little girl across the restaurant whose mother was on her phone texting or something the whole meal and the little girl was trying to get her attention, being silenced, so her mother could pretend she wasn't there and get to what she was invested in, which appeared to be technology or something, until finally that's small brilliant child realized it was futile and just stared out the window, reminiscent of Tommy.   My own Pete Townshend like visions were so bright once upon a time. Too many hurdles, too much loss, and exhausting trying to swim upstream. Et tu Hashimoto! Yes…. Cue the fog in the brain and it all fades away. Occasionally the fog clears, just about the time another perplexing situation decides to arrive on the scene right on cue as if according to script.


So here I am awake now at 2:50 a.m.   been awake for a good hour and a half I think… probably means I'll have s*** for brains tomorrow.  “Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow…” forgive my melancholy, I obviously need to get back to bed.  Sleep deprived!!! Forgive my ramblings if this should happen to be of no consequence tomorrow. It's possible I sleep blogged but I realize none of this will be with me in the morning if I don't record it now it will be gone like so many other things…  I talked to texted this and evidently I have a speech impediment so it makes making sense of it all more fun. I have fine motor skill issues or fat thumbs so even as I try to edit I just don't know… read this at your own risk and I probably should have started this blog that way.  Either way as Alice learned in Wonderland, There's no sense like nonsense. Good night and sweet dreams. I'm off to find me a Cheshire Cat

 

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