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The beginning of the dream is long and concerns a secret military base in a valley in an unnamed country, though I have forgotten most of it. I am my Chinese dream incarnate Chun-li. The military base contains a medical ward that has an odd layout. One end of the infirmiry is located by a lake at the far end of the valley, while another part of it is located up river in a square building in the central region of the valley.

I (as Chun-li) am a scientifically engineered super soldier and have been hybernating in a deep sleep for many years. The army commanders decide to wake me up for some reason and send me from one end of the medical facility to the other, but even though I just woke up and I am not at full physical strength, they make me walk up the river to the other building.

Along the way I pass a gnarley, leafless tree that has three blue sacs sitting in three different crooks of the tree. The sacs are about soccor ball sized and transparent, when I look inside each of them I can see blue embryos and upon seeing them I know they are "my eggs" and that they are a combination of my cloned cells and my ovarian egg cells combined to create more super soldiers like me. They are alive and thriving but I wonder why they have been placed in a tree and are not in a scientific lab.

I continue on my way to the square building and see a group of soldiers digging away at the base of a cliff on the other side of the river. They look farmiliar to me but I cannot place their names, and they do not notice my prescence. When I arrive at my destination I am immediately placed in bed and given a private room to rest in. I am fading in and out of consciousness for several hours as a variety of people, including doctors, scientists and old army buddies come in to check on me.

Some doctors and scientists come in one day and put me to sleep with anestesia. Even though my body is unconscious my mind can hear them talking. They are discussing my eggs in the tree down the river and arguing whether it would be best for their development to stay in the tree or to transplant the eggs back into my body now that I was out of deep hybernation. The doctors seem to be arguing that it would be better for the eggs to be returned to my body while the scientists were saying that the eggs would become stronger by being in the tree.

At the conclusion of the argument, the blue eggs, which were now golf-ball sized, were placed back into my body to develop, but the dream ended before the anestesia wore off and I could wake up.


I drew a picture (click for larger image):

I am outside in a semi-arid landscape near a concession building with a large knarley, leafless tree nearby. There are no clouds in the sky and the sun is setting but from somewhere in the sky lightning eminates and strikes at random places around the concession building. I am staning a few meters away but I get the impression the the lightning is trying to hit me. I am able to dodge many strikes easily but it is getting closer and closer. A huge bolt comes out of nowhere and strikes the large knarly tree, splitting it in two and setting it on fire. The lightning mysertiously stops and I go into a nearby tent to sleep for the night.

The next day the remains of the tree and consession building are gone and in its place is a large excavation pit where a young black man with an afro and brown sweater over a white long sleaved shirt and excavating something. His partner is a Latina woman with long black hair, brown shorts and black tank top. We know each other in the dream somehow and they ask me to help them. The have half uncovered a metal framework of some kind and the man is telling me that it is an ancient Hindu temple that was made with metal pillars instead of stone.

The woman starts to uncover some floor tiles and I help her. After many hours we have uncovered system of beautifully decorated floors that have brightly coloured mandalas and other Hindu designs on them.


The dream ends there.

Morning of February 22, 1992. Saturday.



My dream girl (oh…except for one little thing - she is now real) approaches the Tree of Knowledge. There is a resonance whereby, though there is change, the form can still be discerned over time. Remote viewing comes so easily at times. For her, I was born, even before her own birth. Humanity has no answers or even a scrap of knowledge concerning my nature, but that has never been problematic in any serious sense.

I see the universe at the base, the roots alive, almost octopus-like. Above each root is an eye-like structure, the eyes somewhat catlike, though actually each “eye” is more like a portal over time. A spiral. So I draw these facets as spirals. Within these roots are smaller roots. On and on. Of course, everyone doodles spirals and many-eyed octopus trees with hooked roots at some point in their lives. Yes?

When she was much younger, Zsuzsanna drew a rather surreal image in her journal. Years later, when I was writing to her and her family, I drew a similar concept on the outside of an envelope without having any clue of what she had drawn. Once again, the truth unveils (even though she already knew who I was with my very first letter - after all, for whatever reason, she had found me and remote-viewed my life since her birth - endless proof; everywhere).

Being only one of hundreds (make that thousands) of similar occurrences, which is quite beneficial, as it stops ordinary people from wanting to be near one (faces of fear, faces of bafflement, faces of anger) - thus less misleading and misguided rubbish from their limited awareness of the universe casts one’s way - it does not take a genius to know the “cop outs” of humanity are of no value for one seeking truth in their own path. People have tried to influence me since I was very young. I gawk at their audacity and limited understanding. Yet there is still respect for them as living beings.

The first image is scanned from one of my wife’s old journals. The second from the envelope I sent from America to Australia (without knowing of the contents of her journals). This one is a freebie and for mild amusement. For all the ones that are “too close”, I have learned that most people do not have the capacity to either believe or understand. It is a predictable habit people have to run from the Source rather than embrace it and thus many always keep their back to it. I had nothing to fear.

Which does not mean, of course, that the universe is a plant-like octopus reaching out to grab you.

Morning of December 8, 1969. Monday.

Dream #: 1,085-02. Reading time (optimized): 1 min.



This dream scene is the final and most vivid of an incomplete narrative about Brenda and I using an elevator inside a tree to visit an underground world. The elevator operator is probably a Munchkin (of about my height - note that I was eight years old when I experienced this dream) from “The Wizard of Oz” (1939). The setup is similar to the one the wizard uses. The tree has a doorway at ground level but is otherwise a version of the tree in the northwest corner of West Elementary School’s playground. There is a cheerful mood. I sense it is early morning.

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My dream interprets my status of becoming more aware during the waking process as having been underground (asleep).

My dream interprets my instinctual awareness of being in REM sleep and its temporary condition of sleep atonia as my dream self being inside an imaginary tree because a tree is immobile.

My dream interprets my liminal anticipation of becoming more aware, both consciously and physically, during the waking transition, with the use of an elevator. It is a transition from the immobility of the tree.

The Munchkin is the modulatory personification of the vestibular system correlation of the waking process.

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My dream was also influenced by “The Night of the Green Terror” episode of “The Wild Wild West.” Dr. Loveless (Michael Dunn, the dwarf, dressed as Robin Hood), had an underground tree hideout accessed via a door. Even so, there was no negative undertone at any point in my dream.

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Morning of September 13, 1979. Thursday.



This dream is from 1979; September 13th, wife’s birthday; and of which there are earlier and later versions. My first journal title for this was “I Don’t Wanna Be a Tree!”

Evidence studied and validated as of Sunday, 26 July 2015 shows that the original (prototype version) also fell on the morning of September 13th (1970, coming before my “Tornado” dream) and was apparently influenced by a repeated episode of “My Three Sons” titled “It’s a Woman’s World” during the last part of my last awake period. The following synopsis was given in the newspaper: “Steve find’s himself cast as a tree in Dodie’s school play, more or less proving Robbie’s point that females are instinctive manipulators”. This is somewhat amusing in that I presently have three sons.

My dream primarily involves my best friend Toby T and I mostly mowing or raking leaves in what seems to be a deserted and seemingly isolated area on the top of a hill. At times, though, my “mystery girl” appears in shadow and silhouette in the background. Toby and I seem to be working in the middle of the night at times. It vaguely seems like a version of my sister’s house on Loomis Street where I was staying when my wife and I first made contact, though smaller (although it also seems partly modeled after the Chipmunk Coulee house).

As time passes, Toby makes suggestions that the property is owned by a witch but that she has somehow transformed into a tree (supposedly accidentally).

Eventually, I seem to have strong feelings for the “mystery girl” and am eventually turned into a tree myself, seemingly being at the same location of the original and only tree in the area. Toby does not seem to notice even though I yell for a short time to get his attention. I hope that I will not be “trimmed” or “chopped down” in my future. I seem to be the only tree around for some distance, although there are smaller shrubs and such in the area. It is late fall and there are a lot of leaves everywhere on the ground but I see no leaves on “my” own branches.

Toby sits down and starts reading from a book, “I think that I shall never see a poem as lovely as a tree”. I become annoyed and try to move, but he takes it as some sort of “haunting” signs and goes elsewhere (but is still working in the general area. Meanwhile, the mystery girl is human and it seems that I have taken her place as a tree (to “free her”) and I wonder what will happen to Toby. She seems to be dressed in a sort of “cavegirl” outfit, or perhaps a bikini made of pieces of bark.

I have changed the status to “precognitive” as it features the “mystery girl” (my yet-to-be wife, with the same appearance as to real life though I had not yet seen her in reality) and it had some valid associations (not all of which are here online) including the area she lived in Nimbin when younger in reality that I could not have known about in any way.

Night of December 16, 1966. Friday.



This was recurring from when I was very young. I believe there were a few versions that occurred in the middle of the night. In one version, in one journal, I had decided that the opossums may actually be small foxes (even though that really was not very reasonable), so I wrote a poem called “Foxes in the Trees” in real life, yet later decided that I should not change things, so I came to have an internal self-fulfilling symbolism of the opossums being the “princes of the trees”. Being watched by mysterious animal eyes is probably a universal theme in children’s dreams regardless of race or culture, but I am only guessing that based on my own early experiences in dream work.

It is late at night and I am in the woods, I assume in an area of Chipmunk Coulee farther from where I had actually lived in that region.

I am near a tree in which there are a few opossums on the branches but all I can see are their eerie glowing eyes (and in later versions, the lighter heart-shaped areas of their faces). It seems these opossums are some sort of guardians that are supposed to follow me and protect me in some unknown way. I pretend not to notice them because I do not want to cause trouble or perhaps draw attention to myself in this unfamiliar landscape.

In the distance is a long, winding path of an unusual (almost a sequence of Z-shaped turns) path where some areas seem to be dead forests. The moon (or sun in a rather “bad” dream rendering?) seems to be a black shadow hanging in the sky rather than the “real” moon or sun. This unusual area seems to be very similar to my “Empty Boots” dream found here: http://blue-opossum.tumblr.com/post/...75/empty-boots