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The binaural beat music I'm listening to as I write this distracts me from external noise so I can focus on what I'm attempting to compose. The current problem is that I don't know what I'm trying to write. I'm just typing to see if that will conjure a topic that interests me from the cosmic soup individuality springs from, and returns to unnoticed.
The music is streamed from youtube. I finally figured out that if I wanted the videos that contain the music to play one after the other I had to create a playlist. Eventually I figured out how that needed to happen and stashed thirteen of these solfeggio beat videos that would play one after the other without me having to do anything more.
Most of these videos have found a way to tell the viewer/listener how to download full versions of their compositions on their web sites. The need for a site off of youtube is necessary because of the time limit for video content youtube places on the individual uploader. I don't remember exactly how much, less than ten minutes I think, but Google just extended it.
I haven't downloaded anything because I like the idea of hearing the samples of as many developers as possible. Some of these people install unrecognizable hypnotic suggestions beneath the patterns. I like to play hop, skip, and jump to keep them outta my head so much. It ain't like I'm looking for any particular results, because I don't wanna contaminate my possibilities with projected limits that didn't previously exist.
It's aggravating to have to boot up Google to find a word or expression I've known and used most of my life just because it don't pop into play like it used to. I'm using the term "beats" because that's part of it. And, finally it arrived, binaural is the first part. Entrainment of the brainwave patterns is the object of these binaural beats. This can seem scary, but there's no need. Humans react positively to stimuli they're unaware every minute of the day.
For me, listening to these samples on youtube is an experiment to see if these binaural beat videos can cause brain activity I haven't been consciously aware of before, to show up while I'm paying attention. There may not be any brainwave patterns I haven't become consciously aware of yet. I'm serious. I've been at this for fifty years since I was nineteen years old and I realized that come rain or come shine I was gonna die like a dog in a ditch.
That day on the deck of the USS Twining DD-761, when I suddenly realized I would eventually die it was profoundly shocking. I found a place to be alone and wept huge tears. Nobody saw this and I was grateful for some reason. It felt sacred even as it terrified me beyond measure.
After that event when I was allowed to take liberty ashore, I wandered the streets of whatever port we happened to anchor in and tried to take in as much of the world as I could grasp at that young age. I was afraid that if I didn't open up and let life happen to me then I might die an incomplete person, and at the young age of nineteen years old I didn't know what that meant.
I probably still don't know what being "a complete person" amounts to. Since then, I've drifted more toward being "a well rounded person", but my dotage is taking a toll on both views. When I read the obituaries and more than half the people whose death is announced were younger than me, the future time I'd need to 'complete' being a person, is remarkably like vaporware waiting for a working prototype to magically appear that the patent office will accept.
The development of a competent electric car for a reasonable price is very interesting to me. Mostly because they're reputedly silent. I can't wait for the young men who drive those loud, seemingly unmuffled pickup trucks to become enthralled with the silence of electric cars. Contrarily, those daredevils might stop trying to wake the dead, and they may be my only chance of salvation.
This binaural beat music seems to be doing something. Just now I became aware that I was sitting here staring off into space with the finger tips of my left hand pointing inward toward my heart. I don't know how long I was sitting like this. Minutes at best, but I wasn't "here" for a while. The fact that this is an old habit of mine doesn't make me wanna do cartwheels.
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I do not attempt to tell the God's own truth here because I don't know what the truth is or hardly ever. I try to capture the drifting thoughts that randomly appear in my imagination for reasons I may not understand. I don't know if the content I capture with these words is true or false. The Comments settings are turned off to prevent me from having to defend what amounts to little more than fanciful, sometime crude speculation. Great moments in our lives never return.
