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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 car with my wife approaching a highway in the dark and I had to choose to go left or right. I chose Right Lane. The city seemed familiar so I felt like i had made the correct choice. Next thing i knew we were no longer on a road but in a muddy grass area that I had to push the car over a hill and onto the road. I remember thinking "How did i have the strength to push the car on my own?" Next i went to this house and asked for directions and help. There seemed to be a lot of dogs and they were crowding my feet and impeding my walk but not really attacking me. Several of them held my first two fingers of each hand in their mouth. Not biting me but restricting me. The next thing I knew I saw a lady and knew who she was. The thing is I only saw her head above my head in the air. Her name was Mary Maiden. I said I know who you are! You are sweet Mary the wife of Pastor Michael . She smiled and was glad I recognized her. I asked if Micahel was home as I was looking for directions to the highway. She said no but pointed me in a direction. Then Michael came home from being gone and she said oh wait Michael is here and told him I was looking for some Directions. He said something and smiled but I didn't feel he really engaged me. He might have given me some directions. I said to Mary "can you help me with these dogs? " She called them off and I helped push them off and ran to the car and drove off. Smiling I remember telling my wife, "Hey I knew that guy." What a small world. Then i drove off. I got on A road that was lit with street lights. End of dream.

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On the first day, I'm walking along narrow path and I come to pass a Mosque where an Imam startles me. He intercepts me, placing his hand on my left shoulder. He impales my shoulder joint with his Tallon and gestures to the Qur'an he is holding. He asks me with hostility: "would you like to hear it in English or Arabic?" To which I answer: "neither" as I free myself from his grip and continue walking briskly. I sense that my audacity has angered him. I look back to gauge my safety and I see the Imam colluding with another person, talking secretly and pointing me out. This other person seems to take instruction and proceeds to follow me. I periodically look back to stay ahead and the person has morphed into the dress of a Catholic priest while having gained some ground on me. I look again and now he is a Presbyterian minister and stalking me like prey. Next glance he is Rabbi and chasing me. Every time I look back the person adorned a different religious attire, many of which were familiar from various Christian denominations I would ordinarily feel comfortable and friendly towards. I manage to stay ahead of the pursuing adversary. The next day I am walking along the same path and approaching the Mosque. I notice that the Mosque looks more like a cathedral and there are no distinguishable features that tell me it is a mosque, however there is no doubt in my mind that it is a Mosque. I become weary that I am nearly at the spot where the Imam cornered me the day earlier, so I look ahead and walk to the edge of the path in hopes to avoid him. Out of nowhere, he intercepts me and impales between my bones with his claw once again. "English or Arabic?" He hisses, as he begins pulling me towards the mosque. "Neither!" I say, as I painfully rip my flesh to get free. Again I briskly walk and am pursued by a shapeshifter. The third and final day I am walking along the narrow path. I have come to expect confrontation as a permanent obstacle. I consider crossing the road to avoid the ordeal, which would be out of my way and slow me down. Then I think to myself "why should I". Why should I make an alteration to my life and routine for such evil? Instead I march fearlessly towards the usual spot. Sure enough, he jumps out hoping to scare me, but I was expecting him. But before he can insert his claw, like a true martyr I offer my shoulder to him with arrogance and willingness to suffer the pain. This robbes him of much satisfaction as latches on. "Which will it be, English or Arabic?" He asks with malice. I look straight into his black eyes and calmly say "of that book I will hear neither, nor any other tongue".

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