Thursday, September 14, 2017
I was at my rendevous between the towns of Dawson Creek and Vancouver. A small hotel near a small town I discovered accidentally in my dreams one day and kept going back to. My guilty pleasure. This time, I had the option of either staying in a room beneath the stairs or in another room with cots against the wall and one along the center until my real room was ready.
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Monday, September 11, 2017
Extremely surreal, just like a Picasso or a Salvador Dali painting.
I was at a museum, sitting across the table from my friend, spirit guide, whatever. To my right was a tree with more museumy things. I went into the tree. It was a booth like a photo booth, but like on a modern jet passenger airplane. There was a venetian blind and Japanese looking pictures. A voice said, "Before we land, you might want to use the toilet.
I have a can of something. I think it is full, but it is only partially full. A tall white can of peach beverage, can top opened. To the right is the fridge door. I open it. I look in the fridge. I see a large plastic container which I sense has more of the peach beverage. Then I see an opened bag of bacon, water dripped into it and two pieces of tenderloin medallion flank steak. I grab them, about to cook them. Then I see a computer on the table, it's actually a portable DVD player with screen, a small silver one. I have a documentary. I put it on. There is a slide show. A bunch of people are in the slides. The last two slides are of Roger Moore, aged 57, large square sunglasses, wearing a brown sweater, a fancy expensive brown sweater with small dots of other colours knitted into the sweater. He is holding a large fluffy calico cat, and Persian cat cross.
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Wednesday, September 20, 2017
On Tuesday, I watched the William Friedkin movie Killer Joe starring Matthew McConaughey. I must have been thinking about Dottie because that night, I had this dream:
Walking South down Douglas Street. On the left side of the street, in front of the Strathcona cold beer and wine store, I see a group of people including a few young blonde ladies and one guy with dark hair. A few of the blonde ladies had their breasts exposed. Then further down the street on the right side of the street, in front of the British Sweets Shop or thereabouts, another two young blonde ladies, one of whom had her breasts exposed.
As I reflect on this, I teleport to another room. I'm in the presence of a few people, maybe the same people, some of the young blonde ladies are there. They are standing next to a liquor cabinet. In a room with a wall and window behind them. I feel despair. In reality, I'm not lucky with blonde ladies at all. I feel this despair, not knowing why the blonde ladies showed up. I teleport to them my earthly logic, telling them this; "I'm not lucky with blonde ladies but something like that is only relevant as long as I'm alive. It's part of the defective physics of this dimension, or that dimension, whatever. If I end my life, then it would irrelevant." They look at me, disagreeing, almost glowering. As far as I'm concerned, you can't argue with the impeccability of that logic. That was a salient, cogent statement.
Later on in the dream, I am at a courtyard, a park, doing gymnastics, backflips, cartwheels, etc etc.
The rules of the afterlife dream dimension are such that people who never met each other in life can all of a sudden be in a group together and even though they got to be old in life, in the afterlife dream dimension they all appear young. I can't say I was never lucky with blonde women. I was actually lucky with a few. About 3 or 4 of them, that I can remember. I gotten it on with so many women that there are few that I forgot about. Everyone who gets it on with more than a certain number of women will know this. Every dog has his day. Maybe the blonde women in this dream are the ones whom I got it on with. The guys in this dream are spirit guides.
Moreover, the ones with the breasts exposed are the ones who are currently still alive. The ones who do not are the ones who died. I'm almost 50. At this age, one certainly has lost people along the way, over the years.
The spirit world speaks through symbols. The liquor cabinet represents the soul, all that the soul has gathered and collected. Liquor is also referred to as spirits. The spirits of friends the soul, in this case referring to me, has collected throughout life. Locked because locked in the past but to be opened and accessed later, ie reunion after death in the afterlife.
How did the dream know to present a liquor cabinet? Some people in out of body experiences report that when they were in the afterlife, beings often answered their questions before they finished asking it, sometimes even just before they asked the question. They anticipate telepathic intent. Edgar Cayce used to often answer questions before they were asked.
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Saturday, September 30, 2017
In the movie The Shining, Jack Torrance drove to the hotel Overlook on October 30th. However, in the Stephen King novel, it was on September 30th.
On the streets, near the Granville St Bridge, at Granville and Drake, the Southwest corner of, I saw my old grade school acquaintance, ie bully. His name is David Toooroook. Not the exact name of course. He had red hair. In the dream he wrestled me, he was into wrestling, now that I remember. I blocked him on my right side with a wing chun sticky hands kind of block.
David is a kingly name.
September 30 is the anniversary of the day I moved away from Vancouver to Dawson Creek. David is Romanian or something like that. I met someone in Dawson Creek one of my most important friends and he was uh, Romanian as well. I met another friend in Dawson Creek, whose name is David but as there are at least a few dozen people of that name there, who would I be referring to?
Is this David still alive, or dead?
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Tuesday, October 3, 2017
Looking out a window with my spiritual guide standing to my left, I saw an outdoor market of people, third world, a lot of vendors crouched low to the ground, cloudy day. I saw a couple of Buddhist Priests dressed in bright yellow. In a shade of yellow I never seen before on a Buddhist Priest. It was bright lemon yellow.
Running down some stairs, I recognize this as the living room of a place I used to live in. This living room, also known to me as the Albert Einstein room as I had a quick vision dream of him in this room sitting on a bamboo rattan peacock chair wearing a dark purple thick wire knit sweater.*
Anyways, running down the stairs to this living room, I see my old friend Zeke. But here, he looks young, in his twenties, his close cut hair reflecting some light. He was wearing a white shirt with red and blue stripes.
I approach him. "You look good." He says.
"I want to tell you about your father." He says and I wince as he says this.
"Is it the purple tie I am wearing?" He asks seeing me wince.
I crouch down looking at the television that is in the room. I say, "It's my father I want to talk about also my stepbrother and stepsister."
There was a Native wearing a really Shamanic clothing. Long grass, wild woods shaman. He says, "Your father could never access your mother. That's why he had you." I was looking at the television as he said this.
Is Zeke still alive, or dead?
*This living room, also known to me as the Albert Einstein room as I had a quick vision dream of him in this room sitting on a bamboo rattan peacock chair wearing a dark purple thick wire knit sweater.
