I had a few dreams that I remember from this month of October. Only I don't remember what days. I remember them in chronological order.
I was at the hotel in between towns. I drew this hotel before. This time the room was arranged differently and brightly lit. The bed and other furniture was there and the landlord and landlady couple were there. I recall going out the door and I was in Bangkok. A few Thais in the alley nodded and acknowledged that I was there. Friendly people.
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Thursday, October 25, 2018. In a room, a bed, some furniture. There is a table and on it is a briefcase. In it are some things. One is a machine that processes baseball cards or else STAR WARS cards like a cash counter processes bills of money. There is a young lady there who works at a pawn store. For some reason, she decided to make a house call like Rick of Pawn Stars and also Corey and Chum Lee would make house calls sometimes. She said she wasn't interested in the machine. I asked, how about some of the cards that go with it, they're worth money. She said that she needed the entire collection or near it for it to be worth any money and I had too few cards.
Two college students dressed in black cloaks. They were standing next to a stairway that reminded me of the stairway in It's A Wonderful Life where the guy answered the phone and a lady upstairs was listening and yelling down advice. The walls were blue. When I thought of the dream, I thought, Come to think of it, college people do wear those black cloaks.
I was spending some time with a young lady. Then I was with her in another room, a basement with two fireplaces. I put my arm around her and I say to her, "I like your red hair." She was wearing overalls, but in a way where I could see her breasts. Small breasts.
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The next dream is Royal in nature. I always tread carefully when I talk about Royal dreams. I am always somewhat scared to because I spent a year in a country where anything untowards said towards their Royalty can land some serious legal penalties. That conditioning has stayed. Like the Police might say, "Tell us what you think you saw and leave in any details even those you think might be unimportant." In some time, I'll be moving this to classified.
Whenever I have a Royal dream, I think this is great but not great at the same time. It's great to have a dream of Royalty, always. However, I am going to want to talk about this. You can say you had a dream about anything else, friends, family, repetitive trips between one town and another knowing you only have a limited amount of time in that town. It's one thing to say you had a dream but to get into the clothes they wore, their body posture, to describe the room they were in even to the point of the color of the walls, to get into specifics, even hyper specifics is another thing.
What baffles me is why I would have dreams about that. I have had Royal dreams that I can remember since 2003. They ranged from slight to moderate. However in 2014 and in 2017, I had some Royal dreams that weren't just slight or moderate, they were intense. Why would I have dreams like that? I'll just go with it and describe what I saw. For my own sake.
It happened in the same room but on different nights, different occasions. The first time, King George the 6th was sitting on a desk in what I understood to be the written examination room. The room's furnishings had that Scottish carpentry, the dandelion barbs that adorn the woodwork. On the desk and the fireplace wall behind the desk. The room has Church stained glass windows. King George the 6th was sitting on the desk. Come to think of it, that's classic for a ghost as they think outside the box and aren't bound by the strictures of physical culture so a desk top or the top of a kitchen counter or the top of a refrigerator even, could be a place to sit.
The second time I saw this room was on Saturday October 27, 2018. Two framed pictures covered in white cloths, each sitting on tables and the tables were also covered in white cloth. in that room. First I heard Queen Elizabeth's voice. Sharp, high toned, fast speaking. Then Prince Charles and I thought, "He has a thick, rich, drippy accent." And I woke up and the first words I said was my trying to imitate his accent. I even googled Prince Charles accent and watched a YouTube video. His accent is quick rich, denoting his immense wealth. Delusional, perhaps. But some people might recognize an involuntary quality. Get a ring of truth. Recognize a DMT signature in these drawings. Like Robin Williams said to Jeff Bridges in The Fisher King, "The little people have spoken to me and they said that you're the one." Maybe the 'little people' would know these drawings are true.
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Friday, October 26, 2018 Walking through a house downstairs then up a flight of stairs to a living room with my friend Tam who died about 20 years ago. She was wearing a grey sweater vest, no buttons, V neck and a white short sleeve blouse underneath. Her breasts were prominent, round, and when I went to the Egypt exhibit, I saw a small statuette of a female with the same prominent breasts, same shape. Anyways, I hugged her, pressing the right side of my face against her breasts. My spirit guide was there too. And so was a cop who cuffed me on one wrist, the right wrist. He wanted me to meet someone. I remember walking down a dark stairway then passageway thinking, I don't care if I have to go through the deepest hell, maybe I give up on life. I was thinking that when I was still depressed.
Actually I really snapped out of years of depression when I remembered the middle path. Not too good, not too bad, it's somewhere in the middle. Also,it helps to think of the song, "To all the girls I've loved before, Who walked in and out my door, I'm glad you came along, So I dedicate this song to all the girls I've loved before." I remember the women I've had. I didn't have women every day, but when I did, was it ever a doozy. All the women I've met are precious experiences. I would never feel indifferent that I met them. They were and are all special ladies.
It's kind of like what PT Barnum of the Barnum Effect said, "There's a succubus born every minute."
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Thursday, November 8, 2018
Night time. I was talking to my father, on a cement platform with railings next to a brick building. My adoptive father was young, in his early 30s here, and he was wearing his purple corduroy jacket that he wore before in another dream. I spoke using more complex Chinese than I usually use and words I thought I forgot. I said, "Ching fong mm toong. Bay mut ching ying." Circumstances have changed. Secret situation. The word bay mut means secret. I thought of animal, doong mut, but yet I remember those words. Anyways, I then leaned into an open window of someone living in a corner suite of a brick building on the ground floor. I said, "Did you hear me speak Chinese? That was pretty good Chinese for someone who doesn't live there."
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Friday, November 9, 2018
Another Royal dream, quick, hypnagogic but strong and distinct. I thought of blondes and Princess Sophie is blonde and then I saw a room, and a voice, "This room is reserved for Royalty." It was distinct, red and white room, 5 walls, the 5th wall behind the bed. Day time. And two days before that, a quick but distinct hypnagogic vision. So distinct I woke up and shook my head. King George 6th, wearing a black uniform. He was wearing a black military police hat that went with the uniform, left side facing toward me, he was looking downward, the snackplate distinct on the uniform.
More Royal hypnogogia:
Young Queen Elizabeth wearing a white hood. The hair and the angle of the face was very distinct.
A garden party. From left to right, an unidentified man wearing a bowler, Prince Charles, and the Queen Mother wearing all white. She had light blonde hair. She was pouring sugar using a spoon from a bowl. She poured the sugar outwards with the spoon. After doing that, she then quickly looked away, looking to the side to her left. Left. Left. Outwards, away from the center of the table, like how she was scooping the sugar. That is a sign as if she was saying, "Hey, I'm looking away because I'm dead." I usually always pour the sugar with the spoon inwards. I might try doing this way from now on.
About the following: Every morning for the last few days, there would be a slip where I would be awake and then fall back to sleep, and involuntarily a quick royal hypnagogic flash would occur. I would then quickly wake up, raise my eyebrows and roll my eyes and say, "Again!" They were usually quite specific. I'll tell you what I think I saw and/or heard:
Saturday, November 24, 2018: Royal hypnagogic voice: "Prince William and the Queens 10 students."
Monday, November 26, 2018: Vision: Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth on the balcony. Looking out onto a cloudy London. She says to the people. "Enjoy the gardens to the left." And she was point with her right arm as to the people on the streets, that'd be to their left. "Enjoy the gardens to the right." And she gestured with her left arm. She was old, and wearing a grey business suit. What's with all the grey suits I've been seeing in my hypnagogic visions lately? I saw lots of famous people, all wearing grey suits. Why grey? Or maybe upon waking, I remember it as grey. Either or.
Taking a cue from this, on Marvel Strike Force, you got to get 100% on levels that involve a path where the road forks twice and then returns on the main path. To get 100% first do the levels on where the road forks to the right first. Then the second time you play it, play only the levels on where the road forks to the left this time.
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Saturday, November 10, 2018
I was in a room at the back of a house. Modern house. Glass sliding doors that led to a yard. A lady was with me and said something like, "If you're ready, then this is what we have to do." There was a gun on the table, which was what she was referring to. I grab the gun off the table and run into the yard. A bunch of STAR WARS people, stormtroopers, jawas, sandpeople, Greedo, and even Lando Calrissian. I shot at all of them, like Galaxy of Heroes. But when I mistakenly shot at Lando, I thought "No, this is a mistake." And the bullet didn't hit Lando, it missed. It was as if the bullet instantly sensed my telepathy and intention of not wanting to hit Lando after the bullet was fired and between the short time the bullet was fired until the time it was about to hit the target, in that short time, it sensed my telepathy, "That's not my target! I made a mistake. I don't want to hit him!" and the bullet didn't do it. I heard of smart guns, but this takes it to another level. The bullet resembled a white ball, like a proton torpedo.
The proton torpedo white flare bullet did move through the air slowly, much slower than regular bullets but not too slow which would have given the trajectory an extra few milliseconds, specifically in the event that I fired too quickly and changed my mind. Isn't technology wonderful? That sounds like some alien technology. Impossible to reverse engineer.
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Hypnagogic voices, Sunday, November 11, 2018
"All thoughts are fun. Some thoughts are even brilliant." I counted the syllables to remember. 4 syllables first sentence. 7 syllables the second.
"Just focus. Hit me right between the eyes." That's how one dreams as one focuses and the dream enters at a point right between the eyes, the pineal gland.
Hypnagogic voices, Monday, November 12, 2018
"To see you loved."
Tuesday, November 13, 2018.
Two prostitutes standing on the top step of a sidewalk level stairs outside the front entrance of a New York style brick tenement building. A man walks past them moving from left to right. One of the prostitutes says, "I wonder, Is he 'going that way'?" In dreams you know things. For anyone who knows pig latin, 'going that way' is a roundabout pig latin way of saying the word 'gay'. It was a scary dream to me, because being heterosexual, I am afraid of gay people to some extent.
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Thursday, November 15, 2018
A group of people on a hill near a beach. They prepare to go into a white camper van on top of a hill down below.
I then relent to tell them that aliens will attack.
They do attack. A huge explosion then aliens just like from the Sigourney Weaver movies run around.
Then look downwards towards the beach. A strange plane with two huge rotors flying above some logs on the beach where some of the aliens ran.
Hypnagogic vision. A windowsill. "The best seat in the house." To a ghost, a windowsill is 'the best seat in the house'. As I explained before, ghosts think out of the box and have transcended the rules of life. So a window sill could be a place to sit. Also the top of a desk, or the top of a fridge, on the curb of a sidewalk, kitchen countertop, etc.
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Sunday, November 11, 2018
US President Donald Trump. He looked about 45 in this dream. I saw two images of him that were the almost the same. One image, hair very ruffly like it had been in the wind. He looked stern, furrowed eyes. The other picture, his hair was smoother and he looked calmer, happier. I only drew one picture, so even if you can't read English the right brain, can see this. Words, languages are left brain. Images is right brain.
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Monday, November 12, 2018
Quick hypnagogic vision of Queen Elizabeth. Red tower hat, purple business suit. Profile, her right side towards me.
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Thursday, November 22, 2018
I was in Dawson Creek. I needed to go to Vancouver. I was talking with my landlady. I told her I was going. I looked around and there didn't seem to be any rooms available anyways.
In a room, I returned to her the keys. My friend Charles drove me to the bus stop and I was telling him that I would be in Vancouver. I was on the bus.
While the bus was still driving in Dawson Creek at that point not yet having even left the outskirts of town, I decided to get off the bus and stay in Dawson Creek anyways. The bus turned left and stopped at the point marked X in the picture.
When I got off the bus, for some reason I had a white towel with me which I flung around like nunchuks as I was crossing the street and people in cars were watching me. Cars with headlights on, small headlights.
Then I went to this area. I was thinking, "If I woke up the same time as I did this morning and decided to go on the plane, I'd be in Vancouver now. It's about 4:30 in the afternoon, still daylight and I'm still in Dawson Creek. If I went on the bus, though, I'd still be on the bus and that's no good." It was blocked, a guy was standing there. I went back to the hotel.
A French guy, older, long hair, mustache goatee told me that there were plenty of rooms available. I decided to stay on. I told my landlady that I wanted to go on the plane rather than on the bus. She said, "It's better on the bus. You see more landscape. And that's good for the tourism industry."
Then I was in Vancouver. I walked North on the Northeast side of Kingsway and Main. Someone on the sidewalk was hawking some wares. That person was simply not there. Just their wares on the sidewalk.
It was small oval jewellry. A White oval ring with a white silhouette profile of a young lady, maybe a queen. It looked royal come to think of it. That it was off Kingsway was a clue. I look down at the wares thinking it would be easy for me to just take one, but I decided against it. It's not honest and what if he was walking back just then and saw me?
I go to that area I was at earlier again, somehow and see that guy again. The guy had red hair and beard about 45 years old. He is wearing a light beige baseball cap and light beige shirt and dark beige coveralls. I tell him I'm going to Vancouver from Dawson Creek and I have my ID with me. This time, he lets me pass through.
Then I am in a darkened Chinese restaurant room. Large room. Circular tables. I see Sammo Hung. He looked younger, about 40. He was wearing a fuschia colored sweatshirt. I said, "Sammo Hung! Hung Gum Bo! I've seen your movies!" He said, "Hung Gum Bo, but my real name is Lum Jing Man. What is your name?" "Dean Noble." I shook his hand. Sammo Hung fought with Bruce Lee!
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Thursday, November 29, 2018: Hypnagogic voice, upon waking: "It is part of the dimension plan." Dimensions aren't mindless vapid vacuous entities. There is a plan; a schedule.
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Friday, November 30, 2018
I was on some sort of personal field trip. I visit a hotel. I was standing behind a bar. There is a blonde lady then there is a Chinese guy. At first he is standing near her to her left. Then he stands behind her, holding his arms around her. She is wearing a white silk-cotton blouse, open so you could see the cleavage of her breasts. The hair is modern, like from a Vogue or Cosmopolitan magazine, nightclub curls. When I saw that, I thought, They are trying to make me jealous, but the thing is, how can you make me jealous of what I'm not into? Why push some aesthetic standard. I don't look at young blonde ladies when I look at porn. What. Would I be legally required to? I look at other types of women. Mainly older or even old women, and mostly dark haired women, Oriental women. I haven't looked at a porn video featuring a young blonde lady in years, or actually, decades. The last time I even looked at a Playboy magazine was in 1983. Actually, I stopped looking at Playboy because I branched out into Hustler,Swank and High Society porno mags. Then I branched out into Over 40, Over 50 and then Over 60 porno magazines featuring all naked women. Older women. I wrote the previous sentences to parody fuckedupedness and as to say that it's all right to be a little bit imperfect or fucked up as one goes through life as no life is perfect. Besides, Chinese guys who go with blonde ladies are vastly the exception rather than the rule. Why push some kind of aesthetic standard on to me? I guess they sensed this telepathically like ghosts do because they separated and walked away quickly towards the windows as I was thinking this. I dreaded that I'd have to come back to this hotel at some point later on in the dream and see them again, but I was relieved that I never did.
On the same morning I had this dream, I saw a blonde lady and a Chinese guy. I turned away, indifferent, but not before noticing that the blonde girl was smiling at me. I smiled back quickly.
This story describes me: A guy walks into a Bangkok whorehouse. He is looking at the lobster tank when the proprietor approaches. The guy says, "I'm into older women." The proprietor says, "We do have 'granny' although she usually works just one day a week, we could call her in tonight." The guy then says, "I need her to be older. Much older." The proprietor turns away and thinks to himself, 'This is one sick puppy." But then he says, "I'll see what I can do."
Then I go to a wooden bridge where I see a young hippie guy who looks kind of like Jesus, long light brown curly hair, stubble. He seems to be resting during a hiking trip. He suggests that I help the young lady on the bridge who seems to have sprained her ankle and was sitting injured about 25 metres future down the bridge just after a point where the bridge snakes to the right and then straight on again. As I walk her along the bridge, she is carrying her luggage with her. She drops one of them in a fenced cage area like an elevator cage. I jump down, catching a level, then letting go, then catching another level, as if they were rungs on a ladder. Dreams teach, that is one way to decelerate a drop. I am thinking as I do this, I hope I do this quietly so that none of the Sigourney Weaver aliens hear me and find me here. The aliens didn't find me there. I bring her back her bags. Dream over.
Saturday, December 1, 2018: Hypnagogic. I ask myself, 'Why wasn't I killed or why didn't I die years ago?' The answer was, "Well, you're pretty smart."
It's kind of like what PT Barnum of the Barnum Effect said, "There's a succubus born every minute."
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Thursday, November 8, 2018
Night time. I was talking to my father, on a cement platform with railings next to a brick building. My adoptive father was young, in his early 30s here, and he was wearing his purple corduroy jacket that he wore before in another dream. I spoke using more complex Chinese than I usually use and words I thought I forgot. I said, "Ching fong mm toong. Bay mut ching ying." Circumstances have changed. Secret situation. The word bay mut means secret. I thought of animal, doong mut, but yet I remember those words. Anyways, I then leaned into an open window of someone living in a corner suite of a brick building on the ground floor. I said, "Did you hear me speak Chinese? That was pretty good Chinese for someone who doesn't live there."
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Friday, November 9, 2018
Another Royal dream, quick, hypnagogic but strong and distinct. I thought of blondes and Princess Sophie is blonde and then I saw a room, and a voice, "This room is reserved for Royalty." It was distinct, red and white room, 5 walls, the 5th wall behind the bed. Day time. And two days before that, a quick but distinct hypnagogic vision. So distinct I woke up and shook my head. King George 6th, wearing a black uniform. He was wearing a black military police hat that went with the uniform, left side facing toward me, he was looking downward, the snackplate distinct on the uniform.
More Royal hypnogogia:
Young Queen Elizabeth wearing a white hood. The hair and the angle of the face was very distinct.
A garden party. From left to right, an unidentified man wearing a bowler, Prince Charles, and the Queen Mother wearing all white. She had light blonde hair. She was pouring sugar using a spoon from a bowl. She poured the sugar outwards with the spoon. After doing that, she then quickly looked away, looking to the side to her left. Left. Left. Outwards, away from the center of the table, like how she was scooping the sugar. That is a sign as if she was saying, "Hey, I'm looking away because I'm dead." I usually always pour the sugar with the spoon inwards. I might try doing this way from now on.
About the following: Every morning for the last few days, there would be a slip where I would be awake and then fall back to sleep, and involuntarily a quick royal hypnagogic flash would occur. I would then quickly wake up, raise my eyebrows and roll my eyes and say, "Again!" They were usually quite specific. I'll tell you what I think I saw and/or heard:
Saturday, November 24, 2018: Royal hypnagogic voice: "Prince William and the Queens 10 students."
Monday, November 26, 2018: Vision: Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth on the balcony. Looking out onto a cloudy London. She says to the people. "Enjoy the gardens to the left." And she was point with her right arm as to the people on the streets, that'd be to their left. "Enjoy the gardens to the right." And she gestured with her left arm. She was old, and wearing a grey business suit. What's with all the grey suits I've been seeing in my hypnagogic visions lately? I saw lots of famous people, all wearing grey suits. Why grey? Or maybe upon waking, I remember it as grey. Either or.
Taking a cue from this, on Marvel Strike Force, you got to get 100% on levels that involve a path where the road forks twice and then returns on the main path. To get 100% first do the levels on where the road forks to the right first. Then the second time you play it, play only the levels on where the road forks to the left this time.
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Saturday, November 10, 2018
I was in a room at the back of a house. Modern house. Glass sliding doors that led to a yard. A lady was with me and said something like, "If you're ready, then this is what we have to do." There was a gun on the table, which was what she was referring to. I grab the gun off the table and run into the yard. A bunch of STAR WARS people, stormtroopers, jawas, sandpeople, Greedo, and even Lando Calrissian. I shot at all of them, like Galaxy of Heroes. But when I mistakenly shot at Lando, I thought "No, this is a mistake." And the bullet didn't hit Lando, it missed. It was as if the bullet instantly sensed my telepathy and intention of not wanting to hit Lando after the bullet was fired and between the short time the bullet was fired until the time it was about to hit the target, in that short time, it sensed my telepathy, "That's not my target! I made a mistake. I don't want to hit him!" and the bullet didn't do it. I heard of smart guns, but this takes it to another level. The bullet resembled a white ball, like a proton torpedo.
The proton torpedo white flare bullet did move through the air slowly, much slower than regular bullets but not too slow which would have given the trajectory an extra few milliseconds, specifically in the event that I fired too quickly and changed my mind. Isn't technology wonderful? That sounds like some alien technology. Impossible to reverse engineer.
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Hypnagogic voices, Sunday, November 11, 2018
"All thoughts are fun. Some thoughts are even brilliant." I counted the syllables to remember. 4 syllables first sentence. 7 syllables the second.
"Just focus. Hit me right between the eyes." That's how one dreams as one focuses and the dream enters at a point right between the eyes, the pineal gland.
Hypnagogic voices, Monday, November 12, 2018
"To see you loved."
Tuesday, November 13, 2018.
Two prostitutes standing on the top step of a sidewalk level stairs outside the front entrance of a New York style brick tenement building. A man walks past them moving from left to right. One of the prostitutes says, "I wonder, Is he 'going that way'?" In dreams you know things. For anyone who knows pig latin, 'going that way' is a roundabout pig latin way of saying the word 'gay'. It was a scary dream to me, because being heterosexual, I am afraid of gay people to some extent.
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Thursday, November 15, 2018
A group of people on a hill near a beach. They prepare to go into a white camper van on top of a hill down below.
I then relent to tell them that aliens will attack.
They do attack. A huge explosion then aliens just like from the Sigourney Weaver movies run around.
Then look downwards towards the beach. A strange plane with two huge rotors flying above some logs on the beach where some of the aliens ran.
Hypnagogic vision. A windowsill. "The best seat in the house." To a ghost, a windowsill is 'the best seat in the house'. As I explained before, ghosts think out of the box and have transcended the rules of life. So a window sill could be a place to sit. Also the top of a desk, or the top of a fridge, on the curb of a sidewalk, kitchen countertop, etc.
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Sunday, November 11, 2018
US President Donald Trump. He looked about 45 in this dream. I saw two images of him that were the almost the same. One image, hair very ruffly like it had been in the wind. He looked stern, furrowed eyes. The other picture, his hair was smoother and he looked calmer, happier. I only drew one picture, so even if you can't read English the right brain, can see this. Words, languages are left brain. Images is right brain.
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Monday, November 12, 2018
Quick hypnagogic vision of Queen Elizabeth. Red tower hat, purple business suit. Profile, her right side towards me.
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Thursday, November 22, 2018
I was in Dawson Creek. I needed to go to Vancouver. I was talking with my landlady. I told her I was going. I looked around and there didn't seem to be any rooms available anyways.
In a room, I returned to her the keys. My friend Charles drove me to the bus stop and I was telling him that I would be in Vancouver. I was on the bus.
While the bus was still driving in Dawson Creek at that point not yet having even left the outskirts of town, I decided to get off the bus and stay in Dawson Creek anyways. The bus turned left and stopped at the point marked X in the picture.
When I got off the bus, for some reason I had a white towel with me which I flung around like nunchuks as I was crossing the street and people in cars were watching me. Cars with headlights on, small headlights.
Then I went to this area. I was thinking, "If I woke up the same time as I did this morning and decided to go on the plane, I'd be in Vancouver now. It's about 4:30 in the afternoon, still daylight and I'm still in Dawson Creek. If I went on the bus, though, I'd still be on the bus and that's no good." It was blocked, a guy was standing there. I went back to the hotel.
A French guy, older, long hair, mustache goatee told me that there were plenty of rooms available. I decided to stay on. I told my landlady that I wanted to go on the plane rather than on the bus. She said, "It's better on the bus. You see more landscape. And that's good for the tourism industry."
Then I was in Vancouver. I walked North on the Northeast side of Kingsway and Main. Someone on the sidewalk was hawking some wares. That person was simply not there. Just their wares on the sidewalk.
It was small oval jewellry. A White oval ring with a white silhouette profile of a young lady, maybe a queen. It looked royal come to think of it. That it was off Kingsway was a clue. I look down at the wares thinking it would be easy for me to just take one, but I decided against it. It's not honest and what if he was walking back just then and saw me?
I go to that area I was at earlier again, somehow and see that guy again. The guy had red hair and beard about 45 years old. He is wearing a light beige baseball cap and light beige shirt and dark beige coveralls. I tell him I'm going to Vancouver from Dawson Creek and I have my ID with me. This time, he lets me pass through.
Then I am in a darkened Chinese restaurant room. Large room. Circular tables. I see Sammo Hung. He looked younger, about 40. He was wearing a fuschia colored sweatshirt. I said, "Sammo Hung! Hung Gum Bo! I've seen your movies!" He said, "Hung Gum Bo, but my real name is Lum Jing Man. What is your name?" "Dean Noble." I shook his hand. Sammo Hung fought with Bruce Lee!
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Thursday, November 29, 2018: Hypnagogic voice, upon waking: "It is part of the dimension plan." Dimensions aren't mindless vapid vacuous entities. There is a plan; a schedule.
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Friday, November 30, 2018
I was on some sort of personal field trip. I visit a hotel. I was standing behind a bar. There is a blonde lady then there is a Chinese guy. At first he is standing near her to her left. Then he stands behind her, holding his arms around her. She is wearing a white silk-cotton blouse, open so you could see the cleavage of her breasts. The hair is modern, like from a Vogue or Cosmopolitan magazine, nightclub curls. When I saw that, I thought, They are trying to make me jealous, but the thing is, how can you make me jealous of what I'm not into? Why push some aesthetic standard. I don't look at young blonde ladies when I look at porn. What. Would I be legally required to? I look at other types of women. Mainly older or even old women, and mostly dark haired women, Oriental women. I haven't looked at a porn video featuring a young blonde lady in years, or actually, decades. The last time I even looked at a Playboy magazine was in 1983. Actually, I stopped looking at Playboy because I branched out into Hustler,Swank and High Society porno mags. Then I branched out into Over 40, Over 50 and then Over 60 porno magazines featuring all naked women. Older women. I wrote the previous sentences to parody fuckedupedness and as to say that it's all right to be a little bit imperfect or fucked up as one goes through life as no life is perfect. Besides, Chinese guys who go with blonde ladies are vastly the exception rather than the rule. Why push some kind of aesthetic standard on to me? I guess they sensed this telepathically like ghosts do because they separated and walked away quickly towards the windows as I was thinking this. I dreaded that I'd have to come back to this hotel at some point later on in the dream and see them again, but I was relieved that I never did.
On the same morning I had this dream, I saw a blonde lady and a Chinese guy. I turned away, indifferent, but not before noticing that the blonde girl was smiling at me. I smiled back quickly.
This story describes me: A guy walks into a Bangkok whorehouse. He is looking at the lobster tank when the proprietor approaches. The guy says, "I'm into older women." The proprietor says, "We do have 'granny' although she usually works just one day a week, we could call her in tonight." The guy then says, "I need her to be older. Much older." The proprietor turns away and thinks to himself, 'This is one sick puppy." But then he says, "I'll see what I can do."
Then I go to a wooden bridge where I see a young hippie guy who looks kind of like Jesus, long light brown curly hair, stubble. He seems to be resting during a hiking trip. He suggests that I help the young lady on the bridge who seems to have sprained her ankle and was sitting injured about 25 metres future down the bridge just after a point where the bridge snakes to the right and then straight on again. As I walk her along the bridge, she is carrying her luggage with her. She drops one of them in a fenced cage area like an elevator cage. I jump down, catching a level, then letting go, then catching another level, as if they were rungs on a ladder. Dreams teach, that is one way to decelerate a drop. I am thinking as I do this, I hope I do this quietly so that none of the Sigourney Weaver aliens hear me and find me here. The aliens didn't find me there. I bring her back her bags. Dream over.
Saturday, December 1, 2018: Hypnagogic. I ask myself, 'Why wasn't I killed or why didn't I die years ago?' The answer was, "Well, you're pretty smart."
