Hong Kong

Sunday October 14th:


Dream: I was in Hong Kong. Walking around. I thought I was not going to stay long because this was originally to be a mid way point between here and Bangkok but Hong Kong seems very natural to me.


I looked into a small room a woman was frying a wok. Dark room, no lighting. Only lit by the natural sunlight of a sunny day. Then a line up of teenagers walking through a bricked alley. They were all wearing silken yellow kung fu uniforms. I saw them from a small window just behind the woman. The woman was facing me, to the left. I was looking into an open door of a 4 foot by 4 foot room, a tiny room. They stopped and looked in, at me! I saw them. Teenagers. One of them was a teenage boy about 15, crew cut, brownish skin instead of the yellow whitish skin that you would expect from a Chinese and he was sweating slightly. Why do ghosts from Southeast Asia always look like they are sweating slightly?


Then I was in a minivan full of windows. A cloudy afternoon. The vans I am in in dreams is usually full of windows. It is a Toyota minivan. The back area had no seats just floor. I was sitting near the back. The van is going East on Hastings just before Nanaimo St. Maria flies in. Then I sit back and I rest, the back of my head on her chest. We are sitting on the floor together, her legs surrounding mine. As this is happening, her hands are upon my ears, gently, holding me, reassuring me.


Monday October 15:


Depressed and thinking about giving my two weeks notice, wanting to retire from life altogether, I was at the bus station. I made a skating, fencing motion.


Then the bus turns round and there is at the wall two Chinese Gods. Closest to me, to the right in an older one with a big round brown leathery face. They are both dressed just like the Chinese God Kwan Kung, the God of War in dark green uniforms with what seems to be lots of strings of pearls hanging from it. To the right of me and at the center of a fenced altar is a younger Chinese God with an even bigger and red face. I talk to him. I say in Cantonese, "I am new here. I am just a visitor on vacation. While I am here, I thought I would pay respect to you." I said, "Bie tie gee." Pay respect to the Lordly one. "Ngor chor chor lay. Ngor jing hie hung loi hung. Ngor gun boon kai sut jor lay bie tie jee." I am a recent new arrival. I am just here on a vacation. To be honest, I actually came here to pay respect to you, the Lordly One."

Then I walked out and there was an amused Chinese lady to my left. I passed her as I was walking out. She seemed to be in her late 30s, shorter than me, wearing a light purple blouse.


I later went to a place which was a public bathroom shower stall. White tiles on the walls and floor. There was a guy wiping up some water. I said to him, "I just went and visited a big Buddha." referring to the Chinese Gods.


Later, I saw blue flags with a yellow border, and a voice, "Everybody would give two weeks notice if they could."


Interpretation: Those Gods were there to reassure me that I should not commit suicide.


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Sunday November 4, 2012


Dream: Me. Riding a green streetcar in Europe. Switzerland. Arms over my head. Ghosts sit and relax in the most casual of positions.


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Dream Voice: "Homesick is a lie. I am awake."


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November 23, 2012

On a couch, facing towards the right, there was a naked man. He was blonde. He had a giraffe dick that I have seen in men in dreams, ie ghosts which is what they are. I have seen that before and it always strikes me involuntarily. I didn't want to see that!
Anyways, he is uncircumcised and he is sucking the round bulbous tip of his own dick.
Directly behind him sits a woman also naked. She had dark brown hair. She was holding on to the shoulders of the naked blonde man and instead of being disgusted or grossed out, she was very turned on by what he was doing, sucking his own dick. In some female perverted way, it turned her on even more.


Interpretation: Why are penises about 7 inches in this dimension but 45 inch giraffe dicks in the next dimension? I don't know exactly but perhaps this saying will help: "A little bit of faith brings your soul to heaven. A lot of faith brings heaven to your soul."


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Sunday, December 16, 2012

In my dream last night, on my right hand, the middle segment of the middle finger, palm down, had a vein hanging out of it. I checked this morning and lo and behold there is a vein there! The dreamworld teaches.
There was a nurse there who offered to fix the problem. She pumped blood into the vein connected to a balloon that went inside my body, but the balloon pumped full of blood exploded in my chest and I was filled with blood. Good thing this was only a dream.


Interpretation: The explanation that traditional science would give is that this detail was noted by my subconscious long ago which was then incorporated into a dream.
My explanation is that the holographic body visits another dimension which actually teaches things like tai chi massage, and aikido moves. That kind of thing.


___________________________________________________________________ Thursday January 31,2013


Talking to two women in a cul de sac in the suburbs. Two pass out. There is a stream of black toxic carbon monoxide smoke. I stand under the zone so I am not affected.
I try to give CPR to one of the women pumping her chest up and down with my hand.
During the dream it is revealed in a telepathic insight, pumping her chest up and down won't help because the carbon monoxide molecules have clung to her lungs.



Interpretation: Either the dreamworld teaches you things but also it could mean you learned something earlier and you stored it in your subconscious even though you consciously forgot about it and years later, incorporated it into your dream.



___________________________________________________________________________________________________ Dream, February 2013




In a room, I saw my old grade school teacher Miss F. In the dream, she was somewhat chubby, although in real life I always remembered her as old and thin. In the dream, she appeared as 45 years old although when she was my teacher she was in her late 50s if not early 60s. In the dream, I approached her. She was wearing a dark blue sweater vest on top of a light purple blouse. She was holding books in her hands. She was wearing noticeable mascara around her eyes.




I say to her, "You must be from Finland because your name is Miss F******." I reach to give her a hug. She hugs me, but as she does so she says, "I must review my relationship with you as a woman."


I saw her on the bus once years after she taught me. She saw me as well. She must be dead. It is going on 40 years since I was in her classroom.
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Dream, Monday, February 18, 2013



Walking downtown in a town in China, I see a poster on a wall, on one of the endless stone houses. It is a poster of Mao Tse Tung, young with a corpulent ruddy red face. The poster was looking right at me! Even though it was an image on the poster, in the dream, I sensed his spirit was looking at me right at that moment. It was a picture painted in a way that whereever you moved, the eyes followed you.
I quickly moved on.
I don't like that guy! I heard he is evil, and he is Chinese and I am not really into that very much.

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Diana Ross

A dream from a couple of months ago. Early morning. I was at a barn at a farm. Just outside the barn, an overhang. Beneath that, there were two women. The one on the right was a White librarian. The one on the left was a Black woman whom I sensed was Diana Ross. She was aged 35. She had a black Afro, a round frilly hairstyle which, as you can see,  I was too lazy to draw in the illustration. She was wearing a big summer hat and also summer sunglasses, big plastic frames and a brown and tan tortoiseshell design. Her arms. This dream was so vivid as in   this-World-is-720p-and-the-dream-World-is1080p-vivid   and had a sweaty technicolor quality to it that can be compared to the following old photographs in the following link: Forget the Tom Green skit, just look at the following photographs that come with the skit: The one at the very start of the video with 'Paris 1964' written on it, and then the photograph which appears at 2:40, the two women at the farm with the hay. It has that beautiful sad deep pithy resonance of a scene from the past which hearkens from the dreamworld.


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hB34KUN7Pv8

Her arms. So vivid. The next day, I saw a black woman and looked at her arms and hands and I was shocked with a wave of resonance and recognition. It reminded me of the dream.

In the dream, I wanted to ask her about what it was like to have met Michael Jackson. Then the librarian said, "Go and fetch us some tea. Then you can interview Diana Ross." I went into the barn which was full of tables, set up like a flea market, as I looked for the tea.

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Dream, Friday June 15th, 2012

Standing on a porch in front of a front door. A young Asian lady next to me, to my left says, "I hate being the Asian house. I hate always being the house with the bug screen in front of the door." Looking at the bug screen in front of the door, could see little shiny metallic points of the metallic mesh.

Interpretation: Bug screens were invented in Asia. They used silk instead of wire mesh. Asian ghosts will often point out things that were invented in Asia, especially silk.


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Monday, July 2, 2012

Dream voice: "reungThai reung reung mie ru reung."

Interpretation: The word Reung has 3 meanings in this case.

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Hong Kong

A dream I had of Hong Kong years ago. Notice the door and the stairs at the side of the building.





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2012

Recent Dreams


Dream voice: He will walk as if lifted on strings of air.

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Vancouver. Riding alone on a Skytrain that is 3/4 completed. A lot of wiring hanging about. I am sitting on a side seat facing East as the train is travelling South along Clark Street which turns into Knight Street later. At Clark and 1st Avenue, the tracks end suddenly. The bridge is out. I am in the train as it goes over and falls.

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Dream voice: The ball was driven to the 18th hole.

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Tuesday, January 11, 2012





I own a BMW. Not a black 1988 BMW 325i as I, as you might know from my History of the World video, have been thinking about getting one day.

In the dream, "I now own" a White BMW 500 series from the early 80s. It has the insectoid look of the BMW 320i from the mid-80s but is more elongated.
The swirling propeller logo was sharply visible on the hood.

In the dream, the trunk does not fully close.
At first, I get in on the front passenger side. I fiddle around with the clutch or stick shift with my left hand. I then walk over to the front right hand side, the driver's side. There is a cluster of branches and yard foliage in the front seat which I have to clear before getting into the drivers seat.

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Dream, Sunday February 19, 2012



Segment of a longer dream: I was at my parents house again. I was in my old room, the middle bedroom of 3 bedrooms in the basement, not the room farthest South.
I look down, nearest the window, on a gyprocked cement rest built as part of the wall there is a book about Thailand. It is upside down to me. It has a buddha head set against a clear topaz blue skyline. In gold stylized upper case letters, the word THAILAND on the book. I had my travel bag with me and was picking out things in the room to take with me. I saw the Thailand book but had made up my mind about the place to such and extent that I deliberately chose not to take the book with me and simply did not pick it up to put in my travel bag. I guess it's in my soul now that I am decided against going there ever again. If you make up your mind about someone or something, if you see it in the dream world, you will also avoid it.



Note: Another time, in the past, I had a dream about this same room. This time, there was a television with a built in speaker at the bottom segment of the television as this was to be my entertainment system as I removed here temporarily, very temporarily.



I was in my old high school. My locker was on the second floor of the high school.



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Dream, Wednesday, February 22 2012


Leaving a mall with a dime bag of weed in my pocket.

I go to Victory Square Park, I see my old friend Jon, a pot dealer. He tells me how to smoke crack. To smoke it in a glass pipe like a vaporizer. I showed him and told him that I use a regular pipe and mixed the crack in with the weed. He said that's not the way to do it.
Then.
During the conversation that Jon and I had a lady in her late 20s, shoulder length reddish brown hair, wearing a red, white and black sporty jacket, the red forming a triangle on her jacket, one of those kind of jackets.
She said, "Do want to buy some crack?"
I ignored her. As I was walking away, she asked, Do you want to buy some crack for the second time. I was walking towards Hastings Street. I wasn't planning to score crack anyways, neither in the dream nor in real life. I don't score crack.
She continued on, saying, "You could either score from him and get ripped off. Or you could score down there and stand the chance of getting arrested." When she said him, she motioned to Jon.
I kept on walking.
She then said, "Have you ever been picked up?"
She then said, "Come here."

I walked over to the path that cuts adjacent, to the side, in the park.
She was an undercover cop. She told me to stand with my arms spread straight out to the side. She was searching me. I heard the Police radio go on with the radio chatter and the squelch and the static.
I thought about the dime bag of weed in my right hand jacket pocket. Somehow the dream ended and she never found the dime bag of weed.

It was what she said. That conversation, her words are very vividly memorable.

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Dream, Friday February 24, 2012





I was in an alley. I was facing the corner of a brick building. I was smoking a joint. Then I turned around. There were two cops. They were wearing a short sleeve light blue shirt and cops caps. They said, "Put that joint out!"
I walked and threw it down near a puddle.




I was going to stop and pick it up for later, but one of the two cops said, "Forget about that! Leave it there!"


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Dream, Saturday February 25, 2012

I was on a Greyhound Bus. After an hour trip, it arrived in Chetwynd. The bus driver got off. The bus driver was speaking to a female about the trip. The female said, "You missed one passenger but that passenger was a late passenger. You left the depot exactly on time with no delays."

The bus driver got off the bus leaving those on the bus for those who were going to get off, they had to get off here. Otherwise, they were to wait until the bus driver returned.

I got off the bus. As I was walking off the bus, I saw a French guy. A youth. Street guy. He had a goatee and was wearing a white t-shirt with some kind of radical street design on it.

I get off the bus. I am aware that I am a traveller in a new town. I realize that I don't have my watch with me. My telepathic history at this point includes me thinking, "Maybe I could get 20 baht noodles, like in Bangkok."



I turn a corner and turn around. This town looks a lot like Dawson Creek, but without the grain elevator.



I walk ahead, forward, along the grass, looking down at the grassy floor. I remember thinking, "This town probably has a few drug dealers. Every town has its drug connections." I heard a truck in the distance, one of those jacked up hydraulic trucks with young people in it. The radio in the truck was playing loudly and I could hear it at this distance.





Then I went to a Buddhist temple. There was an exam. A morality exam. Multiple choice. One of the choices of one of the questions was, A person is involved in an accident, do they, A, B, C, or D? One of the replies, reply B said, "Go home and make 30 grams of tarow first."
The morality exam is apt. As you may or may not know, I am struggling with not merely acute, but profound suicidal ideation. But this part of the dream figures that to decide whether or not to commit suicide is a moral decision and one that matters.

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Dream, Tuesday February 28, 2012

I walk through a dark cavernous industrial factory. Miners, factory men lit by the fires of the factory. I say hello to all of them. I fist bump one of them, fist moving up down initially but then flatways.


Skytrain tracks leading to a square brick glass building. The corner of the building. Night time.



Skytrain. I walk on the tracks. The train approaches. I calmly walk onto the other tracks of the train going the other way. Then I walk back on to the original tracks as the train on THAT set of tracks approaches.



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Dream, Wednesday, February 29, 2012



Warm summer day. I was at a train station. Third World. There was a train approaching on the other side, the left hand tracks. On the right hand tracks there was a train going in the other direction. It was no ordinary train. It was a train with only a flat floor although the floor was smooth new flat single piece plywood floor, and the plywood looked as new exactly as that which you see at the hardware store heavenly vibration and the floor was clean swept, no dirt or dust particles or scraps of garbage as you would expect to see in this dimension, four small pillars and a roof. The train was going to Cambodia.
I saw other people on the train station. Hop on, I said, as I was at this point already sitting on the train.
I was facing backwards. The train was moving, travelling to Cambodia.
I sat on the train. Characteristically, I half closed my eyes. I noticed four people, Cambodians, sitting around me.

Note: Cambodia means death. Everyone knows that. Either I had this dream as a response to the News of Jim Green dying yesterday or else maybe I myself will be dead soon. I don't care. The way it is, I would rather be dead than to be a loser. Truth be told, looking at my life, I should have killed myself when I was ten which was how old I was when I made my first suicide attempt. Better dead than for life, my life to go on with its usual sad retarded loser pace. Life is precious, life is to be cherished, they say. Is feelings of disempowerment also precious?! Is seeing others win all the time while you chronically lose, year in year out, is that also precious?!
My friend Chen San tried to commit suicide when he was a teenager. His father walked in on him and stopped it. As I see it, Chen San may have been better off had he committed suicide because now, he is age 43, still living with his father, he never scores with women, never has. Dropped out at grade five and sits at home eating a diet of nothing but ramen noodles or else Campbell's Chunky Beef soup that eats like a meal so that as a result, he is 70 pounds overweight. Someone like that is definitely better off dead!
The last Emperor of the Ming Dynasty committed suicide. He hung himself.
Suicide is a valid choice of the Chinese aristocracy.
Confucius or Mencius said, "I want life but I also want yi, if I can not have yi then I don't want life. Therefore it could be said that there are some things which I want more than life and that there are some things I fear more than death."
Life is a job, if you don't like the job, quit it. I walked out on so many people, have since boycotted so many places and quit so many jobs. It's time I quit the Big Job. Objectively as well as subjectively, I am a loser.
Like that French guy said in Tarzan Lord of Greystoke, "It is something you must face. It is something that you must come to terms with."
Being a loser is something I have faced and come to terms with. The question is, what position am I to do anything about it? I wish I had killed myself years ago.
I would rather be back on that train to Cambodia now. Sure, things might change and get better and I might not be a loser for too much longer. But what if I am? What if I live another 20 loser years to look back and say, I should have committed suicide years ago? I don't know if I want to take that chance.
I send a clear message to my family, the towns I have been to, what I think of them if I commit suicide. That is to say, "I would rather commit suicide than to see you ever again. I would rather commit suicide than to ever visit your waste of time jerkwater town ever again."
At least I can say that I am in the town that I want to die in. I could never really quite ever say that about any other town I have been in. That is how much I think of this town. I would be fully comfortable with dying in this town. If I am going to live the rest of my life as a loser I would really rather die in my sleep soon. Just go to dreamland and not come back. There are no guarantees, but if I were to live the rest of my life as a loser, I definitely would say, I should have committed suicide years ago. It would have saved me all those years of grief!
I don't want to say that which is why I am constantly ever wondering whether or not I would be just as well to commit suicide now.
I have a lot of good friends and I see them all the time. Life is like a diamond with many facets which each could respectively only be viewed if looked at from a certain angle. Suicide, life as a loser, all of that makes sense only if viewed from a certain angle. From another angle, it is absurd. There is the old joke, Doctor it hurts every time I do this. In which the doctor says Then don't do that.
Suicide makes sense if life is viewed from that certain angle. Then stop viewing life from that angle!

Note: In the dream, I sensed that the trains, the train station I was at was quite far away from Cambodia and also, I was facing away from Cambodia, not towards.
This might perhaps mean that death is on my mind and that sure, I will die one day, but not for quite awhile.

Note: in the two dreams. It involves two sets of train tracks. One a sky train and one a conventional train. A train coming on the other side and a train coming on this side in this direction.



Also, later on in the dream, I saw William Roache of Coronation Street. In the dream, he catches an older friend of his cheating on his wife. He confronts the man but he makes a speech or gesture which has the ability to put the entire situation at ease.
William Roache says to the man, "You always were years younger than me. You still are!" And everyone laughs!

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