crazy nights with val and olga in some strange and dodgy turkish restaurant i eat some psychedelic salad that's loaded up with pomegranates and tastes so sweet i can't get past a mouthful. i order a drink that never arrives, the hash cookie kicks in and i'm firing on all cylinders. a chaotic evening ensures, random people drift into my aura, drams everywhere, girls flirting indiscriminately, king street assaults my finely tuned senses and my mind juggles billions of thoughts as i negotiate my way around.
i meet a chilean lady on the return journey, she and i start a conversation about revelation and i mention my music. she wants to listen to it so i show her on her i phone how to access the tracks. she listens to about five seconds from each song and says she likes it, but asks who the dead people are buried in the mix. i say i don't know what she's talking about, she says, there are the voices of the dead people buried in the mix. i never heard them i say but remember how the sound basement backed onto a mortuary and during the recording val and i would often see glimpses of people walking around confused only to discover there was no one there at all. val was immune to it as he spent hours in that studio but for me it was quite weird. maybe they somehow ended up on my cd. i'll have to play it again, listen closer.
anyways she was an interesting lady who as a child had been used by a drug company and given experimental medication as had all the young girls from her village. most of them died, she died but was saved, came back and said she had special abilities to see into the spirit world. that's how she heard the voices.
i have no reason to doubt her.