Understand My Dreams basa"d

Dreams myself

Found 2,818 dreams containing myself - Page 212


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 am on a pirate ship and as I wake up in my bunk I have no one else around me. I start to walk out of my cabin and onto the upper deck. As I curiously keep walking, the ship is creaking and seems to be moving quite fast. By the time I reach the top deck the old fashioned ship has turned into a space ship equipped with high-tech technology. There seems to be some war going on. The space ship is boarded with unfamiliar faces however everyone seems to know what is going on and who I am. Everyone is preparing for a significant battle and so I start to prepare as well. I am trained how to use a laser gun and all these other gadgets as the invaders come into the space ship. I fight off all without getting hurt or bleeding and I am feeling pretty proud of myself. As the war ends so does my dream and I wake up.

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I am about to wake up. I hear my alarm and reach to turn it off but I can’t move. I can’t even open my eyes. I realize I’m paralyzed and I try in vain to scream for help but I can’t make a sound. My head feels foggy and unfocused, like I’m of no substance. My body feels like an iron prison and my consciousness is struggling against it, trying to get the two to connect and move and free me. It’s as if my brain is trapped by my body. I can think properly and flutter my eyelids a bit but otherwise I cannot move. It terrifies me and I scream a silent, mental scream. No one even knows I’m screaming but me. When I finish screaming, I try to calm down and relax, thinking that maybe my paralysis will end when my struggling does. I wait, consciousness still, for what feels like forever. I try to move again to no avail. I remember in a nightmare I had when I was younger, I squeezed my eyes shut and was able to wake myself up. I decide to try that again. I focus on my eyes, squeeze them shut, and open. Nothing. Again. Again. I can’t move. I squeeze my eyes shut as hard as I can, and open them. This time I actually wake up.

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I was sitting home alone on a stormy evening. All of a sudden there was a knock on the door, which struck me as odd since no one was supposed to be home for another two hours. So I sat still and pretended not to hear anything, but the knock came again. The air around me became cold and lifeless. As if I was inhaling chalk. Then I heard it, the sharp bullet fire followed by the cracking of wood. The door hinge dropped lifelessly to the floor, followed by the door itself. Then a man wearing all black was in its place. Immediately I sprung up and lunged for the back door, but the man was trailing at my heels. Then as if I had went through a wormhole of time I was running through the slummy streets of a crime filled city, the fiend still close behind. I’m running so fast my feet don’t feel a part of my body anymore, I sharply turn but am reluctant to find myself trapped in a dead end alleyway. As I frantically turn he has the gun pointed to my forehead, before he gets the chance to shoot I’m jolted awake.

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I had a brother. We had to leave our house in the little village because a werewolf murdered our parents. We moved into a little apartment, I assume it was in the city. It was really dark and my bed was the couch. I started to do the rituals we were supposed to do every night so the wolf wouldn’t come, or so we would be warned. I began to place books around the couch, they were attached to strings. One side of the string was attached to the book, the other side attached to the wall. My brother passed by and laughed at me, calling me foolish. I ignored him, and watched as two of the books fell down, which meant the wolf was near. I tried to convince myself that I hadn’t finished, and the string probably wasn’t attached the right way. I sat on the couch terrified, and put the books back in place. That’s when my brother revealed himself to me; it was actually him who was the frightful beast. Once I found out it was him, I woke up.

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I had a brother. We had to leave our house in the little village because a werewolf murdered our parents. We moved into a little apartment, I assume it was in the city. It was really dark and my bed was the couch. I started to do the rituals we were supposed to do every night so the wolf wouldn’t come, or so we would be warned. I began to place books around the couch, they were attached to strings. One side of the string was attached to the book, the other side attached to the wall. My brother passed by and laughed at me, calling me foolish. I ignored him, and watched as two of the books fell down, which meant the wolf was near. I tried to convince myself that I hadn’t finished, and the string probably wasn’t attached the right way. I sat on the couch terrified, and put the books back in place. That’s when my brother revealed himself to me; it was actually him who was the frightful beast. Once I found out it was him, I woke up. Even though I knew it was a dream, I was still scared breathing heavy, and hoping not to fall asleep again.

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I am sitting in my second period classroom in a different seat than I usually do. A different teacher is also talking to the class, sitting on a familiar wooden stool. She isn’t teaching, she is just making conversation. Everyone is packed up and I get the sense that we are waiting for a call to let us go. I check the clock and it is about eleven am. The class keeps talking and I become impatient. When my teacher finally dismisses us, I turn around and notice it is 3:00 pm! I’m confused on why we have stayed in one class for four hours. The dream suddenly changes to a warm, candlelit dining room. The walls are light colored and the chairs dark wood. There’s even a tablecloth with set crystal glasses. I’m sitting next to my brother and sister, who for some reason are now Caucasian. My father is Dennis Quaid and he is warning us to be nice. Somehow I already know that the mother in my dream has died months ago and my father is just now finding a new woman, and she is coming over for dinner. My white brother and sister are sullen, but I am welcoming. She rings the doorbell and my father dashes up to open the door. My father’s prospective girlfriend , tall and blond, walks in and is seated my father. My brother and sister say hello reproachfully and I smile warmly and introduce myself. We are making awkward conversation when a letter is delivered for my father. He opens it and it is written by someone who has his exact same handwriting. It’s signed in by his name, with blood dried onto the signature. My father says that it threatens us to leave the house and nothing bad will happen. It’s strange because the letter is written to my father, from my father, and dated in the future. I wake up.

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