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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.

His lower part of the leg cause do to his large height 10' or so I could reach the waist or above the waist..As I'm hugging I have a sense of joy, calmness, one that is equally to the room I was in with him, he looks down at me & asks "Did you wake your husband up!" With joy & a smoke on my face I say "I don't have a husband!" He looks down again at me and asked the same question again, I repeat the same answer! Then as we prepare to walk he looks down again & ask the same question, this time he draws my attention to this window or TV or such at this beautiful lady who is just as equal in beauty & affection as he is..I then got a sense he's been watching he, aware of her .then I woke up..

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I am staying at my ex boyfriend s house. I am about to leave and go to his bedroom to say goodbye. he's in bed with his male cousin. The room is dark. They are sleeping. I say goodbye and start to leave. i'm standing in the doorway. He gets up and we walk to a room where there are three (3) sewing machines. His ex girlfriend s are sewing like slaves and they are stressed out. I ask who they are and they each answer me. He's standing by my side. He is very large and strong. His hair is black. He is not smiling. I hear the numbers 8 years, 13 yrs and 15 years. I say I've been with him for 23 years. I am angry and feel betrayed. He tells me the love of his life, the real woman he loves is the girl who said she's been with him 15 years. Not me. I hear explosions going on and I see fire. I run to the fire and pull my daughter out from the fire. He won't let me leave. There are fast cars in the dream. He's driving around me and blocking me from leaving. I'm angry but terrified. I also start crying. I'm holding my daughter Jordan.

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I'm sitting on the stairs on my grandma's attic with an autistic kid maybe 2 or 3 years older than me. Blonde hair, green eyes, blue and white striped polo shirt, and tan shorts with a ton of large pockets. I don't know him, but I feel that he's important. A short man maybe as tall as me jogged pass us up the stairs panting, "Quick they're coming!" I know what he means, airplanes that drop dangerous bombs and fighter jets. I grab the autistic boy's hand and chase after the man, climbing another set of stairs that never really existed in reality. I look back and say, "We might need to turn around and go down." However I keep going up, ending up out of the house in a field. I had never been there before. Taking the boy's hand we run in the open and I see the jets circling. I see a set of bleachers, knowing somehow a person is going to save us and come in a plane to take us to safety. I see hundreds of innocent people climbing the bleachers. Standing there waving their arms. Looking for hope. Me, the boy, and the man are a hundred yards away from the bleachers. Then I see the bomb dive into the bleachers. Bodies are thrown everywhere. In front of me a hole opened up acting as a tunnel into a laboratory, we run in seeing all the scientists. They all in unison say, "Everything is ok." I turn around and the boy is gone. So is the man. As if they disappeared. I leave the laboratory and sit in the grass, holding my legs. Rocking back and forth, then I feel calm as if nothing happened and that everything that happened was all just a game.

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