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Found 2,824 dreams containing sitting - Page 175


Explore a collection of the latest dreams shared by our community. Discover common themes, intriguing narratives, and unique symbolism. From vivid adventures to thought-provoking scenarios, these recent dreams offer a glimpse into the subconscious mind and may even spark insights into your own dream world. Browse the "Latest Dreams" to find inspiration, connect with others, and delve deeper into the fascinating realm of dreams.

I was in a library. I was standing in the section of the library where there were tables that people use to read, or study at. I was standing in behind one of those tables and I looked across the room. I saw across the room, about one table in front of me, my boyfriend . He was sitting at a table with a book open in front of him, and a man next to him. I didn't recognize the man. I looked at my boyfriend and he smiled and waved at me playfully. This made me smile and wave back at him, and I felt extremely happy.

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We are what looks like John and my old house. John isn’t there. It’s dark, there is always spiritual activity here. I have grown accustomed to hearing and feeling it, but I don’t enjoy it. I feel threatened here, and often that the spirits are trying to kill me. Katie and I are sleeping together in an unfamiliar kitchen, on a table. Pulses of energy start to transcend from the walls towards the other side of the house. She is scared, so I hold her hand and tell her that I have done this before, that I know what this is, and that I will keep her safe. There is a dishwasher underneath us that keeps shutting off. I have to manually press buttons until it goes again. This feels important to me. Katie asks me often what is happening, and why. She tries to blame the wind. I keep looking up at these slitted windowless cut-throughs at the top of the wall. They appear to be letting air in, but I know that's not why the house underneath us is shaking. We hold on, and I help her get through it. Cut to my Mom’s house. We are talking about the ghosts. I throw eggs on the floor, and so does she. All of them break open, and some of them are spoiled as they hit the floor. She cleans them up, but there is always still residue. I try to help clean it up better. We are sitting at some sort of Pep Assembly. Top Gear (Britain) host starts talking, donating money to an organization. He donates a particular amount, and then does a double take, acting like he is going to give them more. Instead, he jests about giving the second amount to “Jesus Christ.” Nick, my sisters and I all snort at this, I seem to be filming the event. We can hear murmurs of people agreeing, when someone gets my attention. An old school teacher who was religious speaks up and asks if we should have ‘the talk.’ I look down and tell her no. She sits back, and my Mom appears, telling me that she wishes I would let “Jesus Christ” into my life. I coldly disagree with her. Cut to her house. We continue to have the argument, and she claims she wants me closer, and that ‘god’ will make me stay close to her. I disagree, but don’t mention anything about agreeing to stay close. I tell her that John’s mom has a way of making him stay close to her.

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I was sitting at home, reading. All of a sudden, my mom came in crying, telling me that Alex Kavalchuk, a man who I am very close to and very much in love with, had died in a bombing at his Air Force base in South Korea. We flew to his home state, New York, to attend the funeral. It was an open casket service, and when I peered in to see his face one last time, it was grotesque, the cheeks were caved in, his mouth was frozen open in a scream of horror, and it looked like he had died in complete agony.... I reached in to touch his disfigured cheek one last time, then woke up right as my fingertips made contact.

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