Dreams From Delta

❧

Yesterday I spend a considerable amount of time using the Gnaural software to meditate. The first session happened in the early afternoon after I finished writing yesterday's lengthy blog entry. It was because I was engaged in writing that I forgot that I had a high school class reunion at 11 a.m. Too bad, I might have enjoyed myself, but writing in order to contemplate my life is more important than hanging out with old people. I spent 74 minutes listening to the default theta program.

The unusual part of that was that I did it while simultaneously listening to a series of binaural beat videos on YouTube that centered around the 528 hertz solfeggio range. Frankly, the result was a mixed bag.

The theta sequence was played at 110 hertz and I could distinguish it at all times from the solfeggio harmonies. It left me a little confused, but the solfeggios made the whole deal more interesting to sit there for that long.

Later, during the early evening I played a delta sequence I designed myself with another group of solfeggios that used various frequencies that ranged from some beta brainwave frequencies, but was mostly alpha and theta frequencies. Since I based my delta design from the default program it was 74 minutes long also. When it was finished I went to bed.

My first dream came upon me pretty quick and became lucid soon after I realized that I was dreaming. I watched this guy put down a synthetic coating on the deck of a ship. He only knew i was there in the immediacy of now. Later when i saw him and mentioned watching him laying down the coat of synthetic material, he seemed grateful I admired his work, and he gave me an extensive lesson in how to figure angles playing golf.

In my second dream I found myself in a public restroom. I stood before a urinal and hesitated to pee for a moment as I sometime do in public places, and a midget slipped in front of me and started peeing in the urinal before I did to show his confidence, and then the golfer from the former dream stepped in front of him to show him how confident in public he was too. I just didn't care.

For some reason the golfer told me I could show my appreciation for his lessons about how to figure angles by writing a short poem about him.

The dream I had just before I woke up for good was very weird. I went fishing with my oldest daughter of my first marriage and my second wife in a pond in a small boat with a radio that ran off an electric wire for which there was no receptacle. I should have realized I was dreaming, but I did not.

In the dream I baited a small hook with a worm and let it drop into the water while I attempted to get the fishing pole straightened out from it being tangled with my second wife. While I was doing that, something bit it and took off toward the center of the small pond. I tried to reel it in, and suddenly (in the dream) I was on the shore and whatever had bitten the hook swam up under the small boat where my ex-wife and daughter were.

To get it out from under the boat I tugged mightily and got it ashore. When I finally did, I was astounded. It was only partly a fish. the front part of it was like a fox with no hair. The tail, where the hook was caught on the very tip of it, looked like a shark's tail. The fox/fish looked back at me like it didn't want me to turn it loose, it seemed to wanna be friends, but I finally got the hook out of it's tail. It turned to look at me ruefully, and went into the water and swam off.

I yelled at my second wife to "get that damned radio out of the boat", which she did by putting it on a stump on the shore, while glaring at me as if she didn't know shit about electricity and water. I wasn't in the boat any more. I should have kept my mouth shut and prayed for a miracle.

At no point that I remember was I lucid during this entire, ridiculous episode. I have no idea why my second wife was in the same boat as my only child from my first marriage. Maybe it's because none of them have anything more to do with me. I don't think they hate me, but rather, are totally apathetic about whether I live or die. They're all waiting for me to commit suicide in order to be rid of me altogether.

I've certainly been thinking about suicide. I alway consider it as a viable option. Particular when I suspect I have some horrible, incurable disease. Presently, I'm fairly sure I have throat cancer. I have no desire to stick around and go through whatever futile efforts the medicos come up with to torture me for that. I watched my sister-in-law's brother (who also has RA) go through chemotherapy for it, and that's nothing to live for.

I've stopped taking the methotrexate because my mouth is a mess. I have little ulcers in various places, my tongue is sore and burns like crazy from any spices. My lips are constantly swollen. It hurts to swallow. My rheumatologist instructed me to double up on the folic acid they prescribed me, and I have done that, but it doesn't seem to have helped.

Since I think my mouth problems are the side-effect of all these prescription medicines I'm taking, I've decided to just stop taking them one at a time. If that kills me, I guess it is a form of suicide. If it gets too painful to live with I'll finish the job with something more definite. You know, like a half-fox/fish accidentally hooked by it tail would. '-)

❦