Understand My Dreams basa"d

Dreams continue

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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 continue to have a recurrent dream of my whole family together, mother and father(who are both deceased), all of my siblings, nieces and nephews and we are in a beach house. It is a huge, amazing beach house and I give all my family the beautiful big rooms because I want to sleep outside by the water. The dream was the same last night except it was raining, my father and mother were sick as they were before they passed, they were trying to give me money and felt that they hadn't done enough to provide. The dreams themselves are very calm, not stressed, I am at peace although, I am sad that both parents are sick, I want to care for them, as I did before they died.

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Me and a bunch of friends that I didn't recognize were very tiny, almost fairy sized. We were trying to survive at my local park and we built hiding places made entirely out of popsicle sticks so we could hide from the giants that wanted to kill us. We always had to carry weapons, but all we had were forks and knives. Then, I remembered that I had a bowie knife in a drawer in my room, so one of my friends and I go to my house to retrieve it. We still hid from the giants. They would pick up the popsicle stick huts and we would cling onto the ceiling of them to make the giants think we weren't there and they would be on their way. When I found the bowie knife, we went back to the group of friends in the park and we made a plan to escape by making a road of popsicle sticks to continue hiding from the giants. We would see them walking on top of our popsicle stick roofing that we built on the road.

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I was a super hero and went to fight a villain which was a chicken nugget monster and whe I went up to fight it I just turned around and didn't fight. Then I went through a ton of buildings to find my way home and went I a basement and this kindergartner tazed me with a tazer so I blacked out. Then I woke up in the dream and continued home when I got to my mansion I open the door to a bunch of strangers I live with and again blacked out and they rushed to help me then I woke up

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In my dream I saw my ex boyfriend who used me to cheat on his girlfriend with the said girlfriend at what appeared to be his house and everyday i would pass by his house when going to see my friends who lived in the same neighbor hood.I would see him and the girlfriend . One day as I was walking by his house with my friends and he was there with his girlfriend and he called me to stop. I turned behind and looked at him but continued to walk on by. He then came and stopped me by holding my arm and started trying to talk to me. By this time his girlfriend walked up to my friends and she walked away with my friends. Leaving me standing with my ex boyfriend as he continued trying to talk to me.

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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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