May 2, 2009 from Dean Noble on Vimeo.
Dream May 2nd, intensely vivid feverish.
A Skunk. I get a skunk in a wire metal cage also two guinea pigs a male and a female. Later under the blankets, I look for the animals. The cages are together. The male skunk has bitten the male guinea pig in the guts. Messy, splotchy purply round blood stains on the guinea pigs belly. The skunk is about disembowelled, I see light green gelatinous guts with curls. The female is standing off to the side, as if it, being a female was simply above doing something like that. I decide to release the skunk. I look in the room, oh no the skunk cage has teleported to just the right of the door and has the wire cage meshdoor open. I open the door of my room and go into the hall. The skunk follows me out. I go out through the back door. I release the skunk out side.The skunk chases me, I feel it's front paws at the back of my pants as it is in a standing position, pawing at me. I fly back up onto the railing and into my room. I look out the window, people in an alley. "A skunk!" "It's there under the truck." another person says.
I fly around. I was at a place with some Chinese people there. All kinds of people I explain about the skunk. My Philippines coworker Case and his European girlfriend are there. They say that they need to spend the night. This was the party to celebrate my first night in living in a two bedroom apartment. I feel uncomfortable. Some Chinese ladies say that I am old and that I smell, although this reminds me of a line from Stanley Kubrick's Killer's Kiss.
I fly out of there to somewhere else. Up the street. Flying, laughing. The I remember to go back there and ask about something, probably the skunk. I go back to that area. I ask someone "Where is the strange Church?"
At one point, a dog chases me. I thought of the skunk. I fly up a small hill. On top of the hill behind a cement fencepost and a chainlink fence that guards an alley between two houses. I see the dog run up the hill and leap onto the fencepost. I fly backwards and I see that the dog can fly too! As it flies at me!
At an apartment room. My apartment room. Different. Along Fir and 11th in Vancouver. I look out the window. To the Southeast was a large brick apartment building, corner building. On the North side, two large windows, two of a set were lighted. Otherwise, all night dark.
Flying some more, though neighbourhoods, I am narrating now, knowing that my moving physical, not dreamworld, mouth and words will be heard in the real world on the other side. I am flying, flying, ha ha ha, through neighbourhoods. I fly though a yard, right, then I see the side of a house, left, then through a solid wooden fence gate, and then right and then left and then right again.
I see strange vehicles on the road. One of them is a red van with a World War Two german jeep grill, Mad Max, but all red, windows black, on the driver and passenger front windows, and no other windows. In front of it, as if it were pulling it was a much smaller cube car, also all red.
Narrate, I am flying at Napier and Commercial. Then into a house. Narrating, flying. I see some people from the party earlier. I fly towards the front door, linnoleum floor, small red and yellow and orange sesame seed shaped specks in a thin black outline. fly back into the house, I see two black people, one moving in from the left to right, profile, Jamaican, tall, in profile, I can see the light accentuate his body, especially the abs. Dark kitchen room. Light coming in only from another room to the right. And on the kitchen counter sitting down, and wearing a khaki olive canvas army jacket, was the black guy King from the movie Platooon.
I fly out the door, this time it is pitch black night outside. I fly upwards going straight up. Nope. Still too black and I can see the house, thin light lines accentuating it slightly in an otherwise totally pitch black night. This scares me. I remember the microthought that I thought at the time, "I know the dreamworld well, I am used to Spring mornings, or at least some kind of light. I have never seen this pitch black before. I don't think this is good. I also remembered at the time, that it is a very important thing not to let fear enter into this; do not show fear." I go to the front yard fence of the house, at the left fencepost as I am walking back into the house, I open the door and see a slight light, the same light.A living room pitch black, behind the living room is a dining room, where the Jamaican and King the actor were this room also dark, and to the right of that is the lighted kitchen where the party and the people were. Anyways I look in for a second.
Then back to the left front fencepost. I have to wake up, this is a dream, I have to shake myself awake. I don't want to be in this pitch black night near a house full with strangers whom I don't even know.
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arcade of spade
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May 3, 2009
At a bookstore, Northwest corner of Cambie and Hastings, I walk up the stairs to a set of double doors. A hallway stairway. I turn around and say out loud to the people shopping down there. "I am in Vancouver now, but I am going back to Dawson Creek tonight on the plane. I am always saying that in my dreams! Windows opening to a view of Hastings Street at Cambie. Cenotaph corner. In the main floor of the bookstore, empty except for few boxes on the floor. Support pillars. At the back of the store, an old man bookstore owner sitting behind a large desk. I walk to him and tell him that I am indeed going back to Dawson Creek tonight.
I walk down the street, Prior Street in Vancouver, going West.Light, magic hour, around 9 pm in the summer, dusk.
North side of the street. Four blocks before Gore and Prior, I am walking. I hear a voice yell "Dean!" I look around. A male Chinese voice. I look again and I see a former high school student leaning out of a window. I say hi back to that person.
Walk down the street more. A couple of guys walk onto the street to say hello. Gays. One guy is white, brown hair, blue jacket. Stepping out onto the street, was the other guy, if you could call it that. A transvestite. Chinese, he had a crew cut hairstyle and he was wearing a thin silver necklace with three or four silver rods hanging from it, each rod spaced a couple of inches apart on the necklace, and a gold brocade dress. Little gold squares altogether forming a dress.
I say hello to be friendly, but I walk on, shuddering, thinking, visiting Vancouver, the astral version of Vancouver or otherwise, you would run into people like that.
Across the street, the South side of the street, I see a bunch of Chinese girls from high school. They appear to be older than high school, early twenties. But the thing is, these people presumably still alive today, would be my age, about 40 years old. One guy is amongst them. I see them and they see me but I thought while in the dreamworld, pretty much what I think in the waking world is that knowing those people again would be a regression. They sense my hesitation of them and hate me for it. Then I reach Gore street, as the street arcs North.
At one point in the dream I remember walking down a mud path, like a construction worker's path, orange things in the road, my thoughts, "I wish I had a couple of thousand dollars so then I could go to Thailand again. Bangkok knows how to protect Chinese people from the Chinese tongs."
Note: In the dreamworld you can run into all kinds of weird characters. You must be fearless to describe them.
After death, one is a spirit like a whirling dustcloud, flying from this location to that location where a single thought can send you to the other side of the planet. This is from the Tibetan Book of the Dead. They certainly knew a thing or two about astral projection and the nature of spirit in the spirit world.
I tend to wander around aimlessly in my dreams. Shamans know the dreamworld so well, they know where they want to go in advance. It is like a ship where just a slight turn of the wheel gives way to the most violent turn to the right or to the left.
The mind consciously thinks of a place that it wants to go to, but within that thought, there are ten subthoughts about ten different places which one does not even realize because it is in the subconscious, but guess what, one goes there!
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