...
Yesterday I took the drastic step of downloading that eleven hours of ocean so I can have it playing softly here most of the time. It's vehwy vehwy soothing to me. Does not blot out the frequencies tinnitus, but makes it less annoying, and, depending on the moment, it gets me mellow enough to let loose of some of my muscles... even fall asleep.
Last night, not so much. Slept too well the night before, too well to even get up the nerve to pray for a repeat. And repeat there was not. I stayed in bed miserably awake from midnight to five ayem. This means get up, get covered, drink shtrwronggass coffee, maybe eat, pretend I'm starting my day, and usually by around nine ayem I drop like a stone into the mysterious void that might not be sleep even, just a huge relief.
I had noticed that the surf sound has to be at just the right volume to work. If it's too loud it kind of has the opposite effect intended. Heavy sigh. This is the one thing about my wiring you could be tempted to call a constant. I'm on backwards. The few medicinals that give their intended benefit here are sacred. The rest either do the opposite of the intention or just flat out don't work... luckily not many of the ones one might need in a life and death situation make me outright sick. It's almost exclusively the ones they've concocted to dim your wits that do that to me.
So. Okay! I've done my thing and it's nine ayem caffeine blitzkrieg an' I'm startin' to feel a tad woozy... but... not very strongly... no sense of needing to drop. Only a light feeling of maybe. Fine! Fine! I'm loaded for bear here. I'm getting that surf at just the purrfect volume and I whip out Sturgill Simpson on JRE to play at juuust the purrfect volume over the blissout ocean soughing.
I hardly made it the seven feet from my desk chair to my bed.
AND... I was dreaming of Sturgill not many heartbeats later.
I was doing a version of my dreaming to my listening thing I have done since I was a teenager. This time it was a nice dream and not a psychic invasion. I didn't mean for it to be that the last time! I didn't know I could do that last time, and I was heartily ashamed of myself for it anyway, even though it was accidental.
This time we were in a big club house. I was one of a number of anonymous women who were all friends and we were wanting to make him feel welcome. He was interested in talking with me, and gave a big, happy, yes when I asked if he wanted some of my killer coffee. I set about this task so familiar I utterly forget where I am in it only about 95% of the time these days, and I'm asking him if he will describe his trip on dextromethorphan again... wanting more detail, if possible, than the gorgeous detail he gave on JRE... it being so very like what happens when by some cosmic miracle one's meditation works the way it's supposed to, when you have the light turned all the way around.
There's a lot of moving about in the clubhouse and a lot of people and distraction and we keep almost getting a chance to have a heart to heart, and I fucked up on the coffee preparation, letting the water boil off before I remembered I was making him some, but it was all still darn pleasant for me because, while he may or may not forgive me for being such a ditz, it was clear he'd forgiven me for barging in on his eternity before.
I woke up at noon with the JRE video almost over. I went in and peed and decided to just replay it and get back in bed. I woke up right at the spot where he begins telling about his dextromethorphan trip... and heard even more detail....
always and any time....
