As more information in the details surrounding the death of Prince are starting to be shared with the public, I feel this is time to share this written channeled conversation that I conducted with him. It was late and I felt like keeping the conversation going with him was important. He wanted to share. He wanted to talk. When he wants to talk, we talk, because he isn’t always this chatty or forthcoming with details.
Truth be told, I wasn’t sure I would ever share this. It seemed like it was too much. But it feels like it was intended to be shared. Now is that time. Today is Wednesday, May 4, almost two weeks after Prince died. I wrote it exactly as it is shared. That is how it came through to me.
Purple Peace — Peace, Love and Prince
channeled on Saturday, April 30
I am talking to my new friend. I have only known him in the afterlife. We have felt it so deeply, this death.
Did you know? I ask. “No — I had no idea,” Prince says.
Was it expected? To which he responds, “We all die. I am at peace with that.” Not afraid of death at all. Just surprised it came when it did. “Truth is, I am a little pissed about it. I know there are some friends that are having a real hard time and I don’t want them to feel bad or blame themselves. It ain’t nobody’s fault.”
I wish I could have played my piano more, he says…(not sure, he may have been playing earlier in the day before he died).
I hesitate to intrude at this point. I know it is not comfortable for you, I say. Tell me a little about your death so that we can move forward. What can you share with us?
“Well, you know I was in the elevator. I fell, you know that you felt it. I did hit my head there. I just wanted to play some music and I couldn’t do it. It wasn’t like a tortuous thing. Not over-dramatic. I just walked into the ‘vator and kinda just fell. I could feel it but I wasn’t aware really what was happening.
“Yes, I was sick. Not the way you think. And I had medicine. I had to get different types because it wasn’t working well. I had to switch medicine. You know what happened. You know it ain’t pretty.”
What were you doing before you went into the elevator?
“Writing music, working on music. I was downstairs in the studio.” (Or wanting to go down to the studio? This part is hard to recount — not sure if his memory is missing parts or if I am not hearing it fully). “Listening to old albums, to music, inspires me. I thought it would help me feel a little better. I felt like I was going crazy, not in a good way. It’s like my body was attacking me or something. I think I was (crabby), too.” (My word is crabby, his might be something else — and he’s sorry for that.) He says, “For at least a few weeks I was crabby with people. It was hard to sleep. So uncomfortable, and when I usually don’t sleep I work. So it’s not wasted time. I was getting frustrated at the waste of time, at how long it was taking to get better. Yes, I was really lightheaded — I could feel a little spinny every now and then and that was the part that was hard for me.”
I ask about the lightheadedness. “Yeah, it throws you off and makes it hard to be in reality, here.”
Then he switches the topic.
“There are two women specifically that mean a lot to me, and they will know who they are. I am most regretful of what I didn’t tell them.”
About what? I ask.
“You know, just being able to share with them, open up and tell them what was really going on. How I was feeling. But I didn’t want to admit it to myself. People get sick all the time and they get better. So why should I be any different. It shouldn’t have happened the way it did.”
Are you glad that you were at Paisley Park?
“It would have been better at the piano — that would have been cooler. But yeah, it’s okay that I was there. I wouldn’t have wanted to be found in a hotel room or something cliché like that. Being in Minnesota also makes it better in a way, you know. There is so much love here. And people, they will understand eventually, I think.”
What do you think of the memorials at Paisley Park and First Avenue?
“It’s nice. You know I think people grieve in different ways. I really liked the block party. That was pretty cool. Wish I could have been there and playing alive. (He refers to being on the top of First Avenue on the roof-like part and rocking out.)
I visit Paisley Park, and it feels like a wake, honestly. I was disappointed that there wasn’t any music, I say.
“Well, I think it’s because, you know, it’s the place my body was found and there is kind of that ring/energy (aura might be a better word) of grief there right now. It will change though. Over time it will heal. It’s Minnesota. When the summer comes, people will get on with their lives. I hope.
“More parties, though — that would be good. If you’re sad, have a party. That would be real good.”