I am at a house with some people. RCMP arrive for me. Firearms division. Apparently, while I was riding in a car, I threatened one of the passengers, telling that person I was going to shoot him. A blonde crew cut man, about 23, tall, slender with stubble wearing a light grey blue t shirt with dark blue thin trim on the neck line and short sleeves. The shirt had RCMP in dark blue written in the center. I am face down, bent over on a couch, on my stomach, hands behind my back as that Officer cuffs me and escorts me out the back door of the house. I am walking in the yard, I sit at a picnic table. There is a jerry rigged roof of plywood supported with four wooden pillars, that covers the whole area. As I am about to sit in one of the chairs at the picnic table, I think, I am going to bring a sentence I read in a newspaper back in the other reality to this reality as I think the phrase, "They are giving me the rock star treatment." I am allowed to wander free, unescorted as I wait. I then am lead to an RCMP van parked outside on the right side of the yard, the back of the van facing the right of the house the front of it facing towards the left, it was parked parallel to the back door, while the picnic table was perpendicular. In the van a pretty young female RCMP lady nurse tends to me as I am lying on my back, knees up, back of my head facing the back of the van, my legs towards the front.
In a place. There is a security guard in a short sleeve blue uniform at a computer to the left. Just to the right of that, a big window. A holdup is occurring. We are in this room while the holdup is occurring outside it. The guard says something about jewelry. I am crouched down with someone under that window, and to the right of the guard, I whisper to him, "The guard said something about jewelry. If we were in a jewelry store, that'd be more illegal than if we were in a bank."
Then I am in an alley, in a police car with two cops. One male, one female. The female is talking on the phone to her supervisor about the jewelry hold up. She is holding the cell phone with her left hand, I move close to her, as I say into the phone, "We are deep undercover! We can't infiltrate, nor be infiltrated."
The police lady says to me, "My supervisor wants to talk to you." She hands the phone to me,
Then the female Police voice says, "If you decide to go on the boat across from the island, Victoria to Vancouver, you have to call S.P.A. first." SPA. South Police Association? Sea Police Association?
Interpretation: A classic mental health call. Me "on the couch" in the back of the RCMP van with the female RCMP Officer as psychiatrist.
Given that I've been tweeting about going to Vancouver to score some heroin to do myself in, I guess every time I go to Vancouver I'd better send a note to the RCMP otherwise, they might think that I'm going to Vancouver to score heroin in the downtown Eastside.
At a Chinese restaurant. A middle aged Chinese lady is putting down some post cards at the front window. I look at them. Thai. There is a group of monks sitting in front of a wat. There is a picture of a lady in the rice fields wearing a dark red bandana more like headwrap with a pattern on it. Then another postcard of a lady also in a rice paddy but wearing a green and black 2 inch vertically striped head wrap. I say to the Chinese lady. "Have you ever been to Thailand?" She says, "No."
I say, "I've been there. I can speak Thai. I can also speak Cantonese but I obviously can't speak Cantonese as well as you can."
The Chinese look at me impassively. On the one hand they are glad I am there, but on the other hand they know I wrote all these articles about their culture. As I walk out, of the store and then turn and walk left, I am holding some paper, and I tap on it with two fingers, index and middle, again and again, softly. Especially in the dream world, they know that I know that they know that I know that I'd be ready to fight if I had to.
It upsets me that I am dreaming about Thailand. I don't want to go there again. I told my Chinese friend years ago that I had a dream about ghosts. He said,"You dreamed about them because you think about them."
Thinking about something all the time, even in the context of wanting to avoid it, will cause you to possibly dream about that topic.
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Afternoon nap:
I walk down a hall and then there is a door to the left. I walk through it. I am at my father's funeral. His coffin is there behind some railings like at a courtroom. Behind the railinged coffin area is a section where all the people are. My stepmother is there. I get the vibe telepathically from her of evil, like the Empress Dowager scene in Last Emperor, old evil chink bitch. I turn left behind a pillar joined into the wall. I turn left again. There is a section like the front of a school gymnasium auditorium stage with curtains and steep sloped bleachers like seating section. I sit up there.
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Tuesday, December 2, 2014.
At an airport lineup in Iran. A woman who wrote an article against the Iranian King has the death penalty against her. The Customs agent says to her, "I can't let you in. I'd get the death penalty if I let you in the country."
The line up. There is an old woman in her early 60s, she looks sidelong askance at us. There is a square, muscular athletic Asian man. He looks downward, focused but not knowing or caring about what is happening.
There is a muscular middle aged bald Italian man wearing a white long sleeve shirt. He looks up and says "Fuck." with pursed lips.
Reading a newspaper. Someone says to me, "Don't go to a psychiatrist. A psychiatrist would send one of his clients to an institution for an action that a normal person on the streets wouldn't."
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Dream: Thursday December 11, 2014
In Thailand, I am at a warehouse looking place. Warehouse racks. Well in this case, those are rows of houses. Curtains bordering. One can cross widthwise at certain points through short cuts. I am assigned a space within the warehouse racks. That is my overnight space. A cupboard on the floor and next to that a bed, is there as usual. I am thinking that I can stay here. I won't be getting welfare like I would be in Canada but I would be well taken care of in this place.
In Thailand, in a room with a window, thinking that I don't want to go back to Canada, then this song comes on "When I think about those nights in Montreal." -the Canadian Connection! Gino Vannelli, I just wanna stop.
I see my Thai friends. I am in a corrugated shack looking out a window. I call to them but they don't seem to hear. Then they are in a line up, along the house and then go into the house. Orange robed priests too.
Northeast corner of Main and Hastings, on Hastings. Guinea pigs in a box, a cat within the box too. Outside an owl is setting fire to the box to free the guinea pigs or birds. The cat jumps out and attacks the owl.
I am not happy that I have all these dreams about Thailand. I don't want to go there again. Legality and citizenship. I am not legally required to go there and I wouldn't be a citizen there while I am a citizen here. Why would I want to go to a place where I am not a citizen and risk the chance of either being stuck there, or sucked in to stay there? The language. Some kind of unenviable Oriental tonal language. No thanks. I prefer to speak English 100% of the time 24/7 and not wallow in some third tier language. It'd be a regression to some former bullshit. A regression to some primitive world. Anachronistic. Stylized. Again, uh, no thanks.
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Wednesday, December 24, 2014
The others in the student group I was with were assigned to where they were assigned to, mostly upstairs. "Your mother died, so you go here." I was led into an area down a flight of steps then a hallway that turned left. There was a small alcove to the right of that. On the wall was a picture of a death buddha big black beard wearing a tiger skin and bloody. This was presumably the Tibetan Wrathful Deity, The One Who Slays Pregnant Women and Drinks Their Blood. Tibetan deities are known through their honorifics, depicting their action or their aspect or archetypal value.
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Tuesday, January 6, 2015
5 Asian gangsters were outside of a house. I was with my spiritual guide. We ran downstairs. I could still see them through the row of windows. They jumped in through the windows. There was a ping pong table with no net, the line where the net would otherwise be was facing me horizontally rather than vertically. There were rectangular pieces of white plastic styrofoam all over that table. They run towards me. I jump on the table. One of them, 22 years old, 6 foot tall, wearing a purple longsleeve dress shirt jumps on the table but trips. I hit him in the head with one of the styrofoam pieces. My spiritual guide mentions that there's a pair of scissor on the table. As I reach for the scissors, ready to stab him in the head, the gangsters suddenly all disappear. I only drew the picture of the room without any people.
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Dream, Wednesday, December 7, 2015
In a hospital. A surgeon on either side of me as I am seated in a chair, not lying down on an operating bed. They remove things from my shoulders. One was operating on one shoulder, then the other was operating on the other shoulder. In the drawing, though, they are operating simultaneously. I did that for illustrative purposes.
I read of a dream that someone had in a hospital that angels were reaching their hands into his body scooping out cancer. I have had pains in my shoulders. Maybe my pains will get better.
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Dream, Wednesday, December 7, 2015
At some place. An 18 year old teenager wearing a light grey hoodie, hood on, is riding a white BMX. I decide to walk down the hall as I get up off of the leather couch and then turn right, walk down the hall through the double doors into a crowded theater.
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Saturday, Feburary 7, 2015
I am sitting on a curb. There are cars parked on either side of me. To my left is the rear of a Police car. Two undercover cops wearing blue and white track suits directly in front of me and 4 RCMP uniformed with hats Officers standing along the passenger side of the squad car. They say, "We want to talk to you about your sex secrets." Not connected to the dream, when getting it on with a lady, it's supposed to go in at a certain angle. What. secrets like that?
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Sunday, February 8, 2015
I was doing some martial arts. Then I was at a fence next to a house with two windows. I climb on the fence. Then I sense my father in that house with the two windows. He is with a friend. He says, in Cantonese. "Koy hoe leng jie." 'He's a good looking boy.' I thought of visiting him, but I have a deep seated prejudice against him, I guess so I decide to fly ahead forward and onwards.
I am flying over houses. I still hear his voice, "Ngo ning yuen koy hun nee for wie jee." 'I'd rather that he's in this dimension.'
Now that I am flying, I decide to fly to Vancouver, to Wreck Beach at UBC. I fly most of the way there, flying as if I were doing the breast stroke in swimming. I reach a park then as much as I flap my wings, I can't go on. I land at this park. There is a guy there walking.
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Wednesday, February 11, 2015
Space Station Inspection from Dean Noble on Vimeo.
Space station repair. Aliens. Construction foreman inspects space station, rides up and down space elevator. First inspection OK. Second inspection, while the elevator door is open and two construction workers look on, the foreman disappears into the hall. What he sees horrifies him. He runs back into elevator then elevator door quickly closes. On the fast ride down, he realizes that an alien saw him and jumped on top of the elevator. It's still there at that moment.Animated cartoon short based on this to come. While elevator door was open, chase scene panic music was heard.
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Monday, March 9, 2015
Dream voice: "He goes for cookies with short fingers and he goes for biscuits with long fingers."
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Wednesday, March 25, 2015
Dream voice: Although he rides the back of vehicles, he enjoys riding on his own back the most.
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Thursday, April 9 2015
Dream voice: "Juno Eclipse. Eclipse: A level where the student overshadows the Master."
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