Jonathan Rogers Park (Homeless?)

One of the reasons that they come down on the homeless!  This person was camped at the Jonathan Rogers Park for about a week or more…


Well the rain drove him out!


Nonetheless look at the mess he did leave, now i’ve camped in places an left my share of messes, however never in a park..



toad (chris jensen) thisoldtoad

West 12 Ave an Oak Street…

i spend my time mostly wandering the alleys of Vancouver, any yesterday it was raining, not hard enough to get wet…


i store my things about the city in barrels, throughout the city…  Well to get to the point i had at sometime thrown away my puddle jumpers, for those whom don’t understand my rubber boots..


Now to make a long story short;


I would like to thank those whom, placed a bag with knapsacks a hiking boots out by the dumpster!


It seems i always find what i need, not what i want!

This is the back alley, behind the blue dumpster was where the bag of goodies was placed.


New Boots



toad (chris jensen) thisoldtoad

A tale of a thousand dreams (Part Two…)

Part Two…


Life went on for struggling drug addict, doing his best to understand, past events an to make sense of the all those voices entering an in my head…


Special Note;


Based theory topic that human’s evolve rather than going to heaven or hell…


Theory Outline;


There is no god!  Nonetheless, there is a man made god, therefore god did make man!


Evolving to the higher collective consciousness…   Next step into human evolutions…

(Sadly part of theory i couldn’t accept, ie that not all sentient being evolve, only those whom awake after their organic vehicle dies.  Those whom don’t wake become dark matter floating within space…  (i’ve named them dead or sleeping souls..  Dark matter being their graveyard or place of eternal rest!)


Theory included or related science projects;


Reaching the collect;


(Finding ways to reach the collective of the evolved sentient life forms (evolved humans) reason being to bring back Knowledge or anything useful to move mankind farther a head)


Special Note;


Reason of Outline of based theory..  i am of the firm belief that we have been held back in the propor evolution of our human species..  (i had not see the view, or what or whom had set the human-race so far behind and the reasons…  (You could say the even my theories started to evolve!)


As in this moment, or anytime i come back to the tail of a thousand dreams as i place memories of this tale, long into the future, passed events, which have not been told throughout, The Tale of a thousand dreams….


So sorry i’m always get caught or sidetrack, as in anything i do…  Also my sense of time, just won’t relate to reality even throughout past an future..


Back to reaching the collective;


Unproven science project, however one attempt using myself as the lab experiment, (however i did in form other party, i would be conducting said experiment, (knowing they would refuse, not understand, that they were important park of experiment..  In any of my experiments i won’t place any other life in jeopardy i use them safely an not in any life threatening manner throughout all of my experiments..


Experiment Results;


Personally i found the experiment very enlightening, concluding that possibly in keeping, (One foot in today, while the other is in tomorrow!), nonetheless balancing on a very thin thread holding me between the two worlds…


Reaching for lack of better words the mystical doorway, which i have seen many times in the past…  For myself, i used cocaine, injecting an extreme amount, that i would not recommend any others using these amounts, the results may lead to death…  i’ve always walked a thin line, between life an death without any fear of dying…




There was only one other group, following a similar theory, these were monks, we discussed thoughts about reach the same collective, only they used meditation instead of drugs.. i will try and go into more detail about our meeting, which is a little story within itself..


Problems in both of our research, in how to hold onto today.. If we left today, we would leave one world arriving in our new home, which really is not all that bad, only that we would have failed in bring back any knowledge…


i believed i had found a way, in keeping myself lock into today, yet moving through the mystical doorway of tomorrow touching the collective mind..  Time was an trust was the only fear of possible failure in the next experiment…


Proposed Next Experiment;


i would once again reach the level of consciousness by using the proper amount of cocaine, also being aroused by sexual pleasure, knowing that as i pass through the doorway time my orgasim peak was the key moment as to the time to make my move back…  The peak of the very intense pleasure, may or may not waken me as i am with the extreme noise of the collective mind, also in reminding me within my subconscious mind, what i must let go of tomorrow in order to stay in today..  Now if i make it back, i truthfully don’t know that i would bring back memories of anything related to my visit into tomorrow..  i strong about the belief that i could bring back just a little knowledge or something useful in speeding up human evolution…


Problem with this experiment now is that i don’t trust the one an only person able to keep tied into today, while i walk through the doorway of tomorrow..  Sadly i have not found, any other capable of creating the euphoric thread in holding me an alerting me that i should make my way back into today’s reality..


Back to the Monks;


i had gone into one of those super markets, probably look for my favourite junk food, an a man approached me..  From what i can remember somehow we ended up travelling on the city bus line, we had made our way to the back of the bus..  i i found extremely strange nobody would sit near us, an they seem to pay their respect to the gentleman that i was having this conversation with, bowing as they moved away…  At that time i had no idea whom is was only that he was interested in similar thoughts.  As the conversation went on i began to realize he was interested in the way i’d had planned the science project of keeping oneself in today, while visiting tomorrow..  We went on discussing ideas, this where i believe that i realized i was talking to a monk, because they used a extreme discipline of meditation in moving through what i called a doorway, don’t remember if they gave the window or doorway a name?  Surprisingly we passed thoughts back an forth, upon conclusion i left the bus not realizing what really had happened, it was like fantasy dream..


Back to life living on the Street;


Days went on, same old digging in dumpsters, doing what i always did, spend time thinking about an research throughout the web, mostly using wikipedia, in try to learn an understand all those thoughts and how they fit into place…
During these time, i would always talk about my theories an thoughts about, to those i meet on the street within my life journey..  funny in a sense i was preaching my way to others, just like the church did…  It took sometime for me to accept this idea, however soon realize them whom complain about hearing the same thoughts over an over where right!

Struggling Addiction (Un-acceptable)

Trapped within a lifestyle, living a life…  There are good days an many bad days…  A life one chooses throughout their addiction…


What the post is about,


as an addict, i understand why, we’re labeled within an emotional hatred….  To walk in a public part, especially with your children,


then to come across the destructiveness of us using addict…


Such as the image i have posted…


i can’t say that i’ve never done this type inappropriate discarding of related garbage, nonetheless i find this just not acceptable…


Most times lost as i get within my addiction high, try my very best not to leave, anything liken as the image..


honest thoughts of a drug addict,
drug addict mess-1

toad (chris jensen) thisoldtoad

A tale of a thousand dreams

(Special Note; i may use real names in this tale for lack of creating my own names, the names, which i use are in no part connect to this tale, i’ve also used their names without permission!)

Part One…


Here i sit at McDonalds, Broadway & Cambie, no money afraid to even breathe!  i have no idea where to begin, i best start with nearest memories of the morning..


(Note; Tue, 9 Aug 2016 – approximately started this tale a few days ago.)


i slept in a doorway lastnight, i had slept there the night before, i’ve slept in the alley across the street many times and knew of the doorway, yet never took the opportunity.  Probably because i would travel the alleys with a bike an trailer, which i could not have brought up the stairs…


i’ve based all my judgments on feeling of being safe, most times this judgement has never failed, however there has been many times when i could not find that safe place and exhaustion always won the battle…


i’m a 57 year old drug addict, whom now knows that using is not an option!  The tale which i will be posting upon a blog that i have been writing poetry an other useless nonsense which has caught my eye or my childlike mind..


Well here we go,


part one of a tale of a thousand dreams,


Trapped in the city of Vancouver British Columbia, Canada, no way out with a belief they are holding me here, sound really fucking crazy, but that’s what i feel…  Whatever their reasons are, just does matter.  Just isn’t right..  If i were to guess the reason would have to be about money an power…


i will start by saying that i have no idea, how i have worked out and found facts about my life, i have no solid proof, other than the experiences which have transpired throughout the last decade…


i am a bastard child, my mother raped, her an i abused by a father whom had no choice to say anything..  My mother and i paid a very heavy price for what we had no control, i’m not resentful about which has happen in the past nor would i change, not one single moment…


Years i have passed through with very little schooling, worked many different jobs, drugs play a big part trapping me within years of drug addiction, detox and treatment centers, only giving me three years clean, i bring this up because a short while back, i just made up my mind not to use, i had temporary success however it was short lived, now using is not an option..  i have faith an a strong belief, knowing that failure, would not be the end, just a reminder that i am human an to learn from this mistake, shake myself off an start again…


To be human, strong, yet fragile!


Special Note:


i only want the truth….


My timeline and jumping around this tale will make the story even more hard to understand!


While living on the streets in the West End i worked on some crazy theories, i try my best to place them in writing with no success..  It seem like i would get start an the law of natural experiences would win the battle, i would lose, everything having to start over…


To shorten the story i try to sell my theory to someone from the Billionaire Club, i walked in the door, a doorman met me, i asked if i could speak to someone about my theories, he was under the impression nobody would talk, he returned telling me to meet the man a a club on granville street, to my surprise, we met after a short conversation, the question he ask “do have anything written?”  Sadly the answer was no!  You know i don’t even remember, i knew the man’s name, however he said when you do he would be happy to look my theory…  Once again back to place these thoughts on paper, what i really mean using a computer, as my skills at writing are very bad…


Each night i would work on these thoughts an theories, talking out loud, it’s the way i think an work through problems as i do this the same way this very day.  As i’m doing the same thing talking out loud, wondering if i’m doing the right thing?  As i continue my lifestyle, not making any changes, because that is how i got here, by living my life as me…


Another Note;

i would spend a lot of time digging in dumpster, trapped in my addiction day after day using drugs, an living off the garbage..  Working these thoughts and bring everything closer together, as pieces of the puzzle began to fit in place, now making more sense, preaching to others on the street, most did want to hear, because they got tired of hearing the same thing, over and over.


Back to the tale,


Well now things become interesting, voice of something or someone, would ask question, this sound really crazy, our conversation went on for sometime, i couldn’t tell how long or at the time with whom?


What it came down too, let’s say the voice could not figure out how i came to my solutions, so my first contract, little did i know it would be a blood contract, which upon completion i now realize that is a deadly contract, made for life…


Then the voice ask what i would like for my contract, i asked for $3000.00, in return offered 25 billion in gold an the name “Dark Prince” the placing me number two in his family…

(All i had to do was; “Just be me!”)


Back to the tale;


i found myself wondering Granville Street, in an area that i’ve been before only because i’ve lived in the city all my life…  Now disturbingly for some reason i was waiting for a car, why i spent hours waiting for a car, at this moment sounds even more crazy or insane, as i sit back a laugh to myself..  Anyway the car did come!


Now for a part of the story even i find hard to believe, wandering on the west side of Granville Street, i see some men moving barrels, for some reason i crossed.  Like in a dream, i follow what i believe to be man walking up the alley, only his feet were not moving, i followed, just before we came to an intersection he disappeared as i continued on, something grabbed me from the back of my neck, holding me as if i was a newborn child, i felt no fear, yet was not in control, we began a conversation only there was no sound the voice clear as day centered within the middle of my mind..  i remember the question; “May i” feeling no fear i answered “yes” now today or some years after the meeting he was still looking for the answer of how i worked out the puzzle of my theories, still finding no answer we completed the blood contract.  As he already has tasted my blood, he place a single droop upon a finger, which i took completing the contract…


Where at that time, really didn’t understand or even to this day find truly hard to believe, however deep within my heart know it to be true..


Special Note;


Humanity within today’s world see’s a blood contract (As a contract between the Devil an oneself!  “Now within my theories the devil an god do not exist, however demons an other paranormal do!)


Back to the tale;


Dazed by the events, which happened, as an addict living on the streets of Vancouver, continued wandering, trying my best to place everything into perspective..


Life went on for a drug addict wander the alleys of the West End, continuing to collect bottles, looking for other treasures…  In essence “just being me!”


Some days later a psychic message came!  The some in gold hidden a Vancouver International Airport..  (How you could hide that amount of gold in front of plain eyes, would only be family magick…
However trying my best to retrieve this shipment, prove to be difficult!  This is where my new found family played an important part, as we removed the shipment of gold bring it down behind General Motors Place without anybody even knowing..  Once again this is where with more of family help move the shipment, using street people to the train station..  At the time i had no idea, once again my new family stepped in all the street people did it for nothing with no memory of ever doing so…  The gold was shipped to Fort knox’s by train, i marveled at watching all the bags make there way to the train station piling up one at a time…

Dear Father,

It has just been over four years since you have moved on..  ifinn you don’t know, it is your son talking to you..  i’ve not been in the house since Pat got back from the you boat cruise, she had decided that i shouldn’t live there anymore, not really giving any reasons..  It’s all good dad…


Funny dad, everytime i see a piece of wood thrown away in the dumpsters, i often think of how you had mastered the art of creating out of wood…


It was always like magick, see you build something, with such easy, trying your damndest to teach me the art..  i still can’t cut a straight line in a piece of wood…


i don’t see much of my sisters anymore since we do have those big christmas dinners an birthday parties..


To be quite honest i don’t talk or hear from any of the family, including my uncles your brothers…


Sadly i must say that i’ve not been up too..  Where they have place your broken down body to rest…  You know to place some flower, so that they would dry up an die…  i will try my damndest in getting there before the summer is out?


i been down to the big church downtown, an light a candle for grandma, your mother, even though it is a conflict of interest to the way i think about god…


Sadly dad, i’m still on the street, however you would be happy to know that i’m doing a lot less drugs…  May days not even using any for periods of days…


Well dad, there is not much more i would like to say, only the fact that we’d fight most of the time i do miss you!

Mother Family-2

Grandma, mother two sisters an myself

Your son,
toad (christopher raymond jensen) thisoldtoad


Raymond Christopher Jensen (Obituary)

Hospital Rocks

As to a wondering toad!  flowing throughout the city, digging in dumpsters, sliding within the alleys of the Fairview Neighbourhood..


After that is said an done..


A toad, hopefully loaded with bottles, an whatever, makes his way to the bottle depot to cash-in his bounty…


Most times passes Vancouver General Hospital on down past the crazy ward, in through a little nook set within the buildings, a place where some unidentified souls stack rocks..  It has been sometime since rocks have been stack, failing last years attempts..


Cutting a long story short,


just the other day, as a toad was making the journey to the depot,


a toad spied with his little eye;


stacked rocks!


Now you have it,


Stacked Hospital Rocks



toad (chris jensen) thisoldtoad