Sock Free Hideaway

BEATS OF LOVE 

117. Last Night I Had a Dream by Randy Newman

I'VE ALWAYS been fatalistic and paranoid. And with just cause. My father suffered a heart attack on Friday the 13th, then suffered a fatal one thirteen days later. 

My mother spent a full six months of tests and anxiety after a bleed led her GP to fear the worst, only to be given the all clear. Less than a month later, she was dead after tripping over her hair dryer's cord.

Quite a few friends attended Buddhist retreats in their twenties and despite me not biting, the undeniable change in them left an indelible mark on my senses. I vividly recall the torpor of an unmonitored cold turkey withdrawal from Librium in my aunt's back bedroom where she thought I'd gone full, Syd Barrett. Only when I prayed did I feel any relief and at just that point, a massiv bolt of light shone through the window. I woke up less agitated, reasoning it was just coincidental that the streetlights came on. But I wasn't certain coz I began praying more regularly.

Even with my faith, I still worry too much about bad things happening. But faith and music give me time to think about the good things in my life. These thoughts create inner voices that helped me quit smoking, drink less, and stop bad habits.

Little wonder I'm able to call these voices my other friends. Friends that enter my subconscious more and more, strengthening my faith while making me a little less fatalistic and paranoid. Hallelujah!