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Found 44 dreams containing gnit - Page 3


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 dreamed that I lived in a castle that I had built with my own hands. I had carved every inch of exposed wood. My wife was complaining that I spent more time taking care of and building the castle than I did her. I stab her in the ear with a pencil and she falls to the floor screaming then a bunch of rats come out and start biting on her and she dies. I walk down a very wide stair case to the living room and there is a fat lady sitting on a white leather couch looking out my floor to ceiling windows in the back of the house. A few feet behind her is a row of very large cages which hold a couple of lions and a gorilla. I climb up on the door of the end cage and let out the two lions. They attack the fat lady and she dies. I go inside the cage to keep myself away from the lions. The gorilla cage is connected to the lion cage with a single door. The gorilla holds up a key as if to tell me he can get to me if he wants. I exit the cage and flip a switch on the lock which makes the lock permanently locked and cannot be opened with a key. The lock casing is made of brass and I had carved it as well. I exit the castle through a hidden door near the cages. Once outside I stand back and look at the magnitude of my castle. I climb up the outside wall because some of the stones are sticking out just enough for a foot/hand hold. I enter back into the castle through an open window. I take a phone book off a small table in the room and set it on fire in order to burn down the castle.

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I dreamed that I was in a private school. I saw Dr. Maya Angeloou and an old professor of mine which I could not stand. I told off my female profesor and Dr. Maya Angelou told me if told off the professor that I would be asked to leave the school. She then proceeded to ask me how I was going to pay for my room and board and for my tuition. She said that those things were not free and I was obligated to pay all of the money back. I told her that I could afford ten dollars a week and that if that did not suit her that she was welcome to sue me. I exited the doors of the school and then I was back at my brother's old highschool. As I exited the school, it was pitch black out and I could only see a man, dressed in dark clothing, with four huge mastiff dogs. They barked at me and I proceded to walk towards my home when the dogs charged at me. They stopped when the man told them to stop. I then saw a colleague wearing a raincoat and a hankerchief on her head. She was walking toward the park with her dad and the man went after her with one of his dogs. The dogs charged me again and began biting me but it didn't hurt and they couldn't grab onto my arms. I got into the car I was leaned up against and saw the man running towards me and hotwired the car. There was no key in the ignition. I locked the doors as he tried to open one of the car doors and I drove off. I drove up the street and then parked the car on the opposite side of oncoming traffic. I wiped the car down for finger prints and started running for my home. It was pouring rain. I just kept praying to God that my scent and my footprints would be washed away so that man and his dogs couldn't follow me. I got to my house and went to the side door and opened the lower lock but I didn't have a key for the deadbolt. So I ran to the front door and prayed that the light would go out and that the man and his dogs wouldn't see me. I opened the door and hid. I woke up then.

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Dreamt of my late brother, we were at a stadium and than left to go home via town we my brother went first and I followed down sliding and he was waiting for me at the road side and I said oh there you are. The dream continued he drove me to a place under a tree and I said park here in the shade under the tree it was green (like a park, but there was a street kid) and I said let us go this street boy could follow us so when he started the car it wouldn't start. And I was getting scared that the boy would start with us and told my brother to put the key in the ignition and start the car, and I got up.

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“You know that place between sleeping and awake, that place where you can still remember dreaming? That's where I'll always think of you.” ― J.M. Barrie My name is Shannon. I'm a seventeen year old girl with a cognitive sleep disorder, who doesn't dream. I haven't had a real dream in ten years. When I go to sleep, my body and my brain shuts off, until it's either time to wake up, or pass between the realm of the sleeping, and the awake. In these ten years, when I slept I was plagued with nightmares, vivid nightmares beyond my control that stay with me, haunt me during the day. I'd see the figures in my nightmares everywhere, be it people, or unexplainable things. But today, when I slept, something happened: I was sleeping, yet awake and well aware, and while this was happening, I was dreaming. This dream has to be the most real thing that has ever happened. Let me tell you what happened: I was sitting outside of a lovely, slightly older house with a young man, he was a little older than I was, Maybe nineteen or twenty. It was dark, snow was falling to the ground, but it wasn't cold. We were talking, having a wonderful time; he was handsome; mid-length choclate colored hair that was combed back, though some of his hair had migrated infront of his face. He was wearing all black, not in the 'creepy gothic' way you would think. He was wearing a lovely leather coat, looked like he had traveled to london and back to get it, regular dress shoes, slacks, and a long-sleeve black top. I was different, much different. I was dressed in all white, though I couldn't tell exactly what I was wearing, we had on almost the same jacket: mine was white, cotton; and his, well I've already told you. I was wearing a white beret, and my hair was much different: it was long, almost down to my back and as blonde as a sun goddess; curled just slightly at the end; my glasses weren't black anymore, but a light baby blue. He smiled at me, took my hand and called me "Madaline." I responded! That wasn't my name but I responded as if I've had it for my whole life. This boy... He looked into my eyes and I could see through him, I could see into his soul. In an instant he turned, and pulled out a beautiful light blue and lime green stripped scarf, drapped it around my neck, and smiled once again. I beemed, I didn't know what to say, it was beautiful! gorgeous, even. He then took a small letter from his pocket, and handed it to me. It was a poem, entitled "My sweet Madaline."; I stopped, and looked at him, and proceeded to read: "My sweet Madaline, Though I will never be here in time, You are heaven to this tattered soul. You are a gift, that should be protected, And though we may be appart, in life: I can promise you, we will have our time, My sweet Madaline." Before I had a moment to respond, a little girl came out of the house behind us. She was about eight or so, with the same hair color hair as the young man. She looked at the scarf, then the note, and ran in side "Mommy, mommy! Why does she gets stuff and I don't!" she shouted, running inside. We both laughed. At that moment my eyes opened, my room was dark. It was about 11:00am; but when I closed my eyes, this.. dream... it continued. There was a court room, the young man was sitting in front with his lawyer, there was nobody on the stand. It seemed as though they were talking about a child that had died; Madaline. They had blamed the young man for it. The lawyer accusing him had found the poem. "My sweet Madaline" on his desk, to be honest, I don't know what was happening. I rushed into the court room, flinging open the doors and yelling "Stop!" Instantly all eyes were on me, the room fell silent as the young man looked back at me, and I knew, I just knew, he couldn't have done this. "That poem is about me! He wrote it about me!" I opened my eyes again, back to reality before turning to the otherside of my bed. Closing my eyes, I saw an older woman with two men standing on either side of her. She was holding a file, with one, small sheet of paper pulled out of it. "She's telling the truth." the woman said with a soft quiver in her voice. I saw the young man's face before my eyes opened for the final time. This is all I remember.

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