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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 on my ship that I served on in the Navy in the 1980's walking by a compartment and in the compartment I saw 4 NY Yankees from the 1970's - 3 pitchers (Ron Gidury, Goose Gossage, and Catfish Hunter) as well as another player not a pitcher but I can't recall who it was. They all had boxes of baseball memorabilia from the 70's with them. I realized that I had in essence stepped back in time that we were in present day 2012 but they were in essence in the 1970's and could not "reach" me. I also realized that their memorabilia was valuable. For whatever reason I was a real jerk to them - and I knew that there was nothing they could do about it. For example, I told Goose Gossage that he was going to have a hard time getting into the hall of fame, told Gidury that he would become a Yankees pitching coach and nothing more, and told Catfish hunter that he would die a young man of Lou Gehrig's disease. I also told them how successful Reggie Jackson had become. I was also rummaging through their memorabilia and was going to steal some of it. Through all of this they just stood there behind their memorabilia and it seemed as though they could do or say nothing. They were almost like cardboard figures. For whatever reason I decided not to take anything and began to walk out, and as I did I looked over my shoulder and made a wise ass comment, but I don't recall what it was. As I turned again to look forward I saw Joe Torre, Bucky Dent, Craig Nettles, Chris Chambliss, and other 1970's Yankees walking in, but they were not young and in their 20's but as they currently look and in their current age. I remember distinctly that Joe Torre was in front and was holding a baseball bat - he was also wearing sun glasses. It was at that point that I realized that I had not stepped back in time but we were in present day and that these Yankees were all gathering for old timer's day. No one said a word to me and I walked out past the Yankees that came in. Fear and shame swept over me because I knew that my actions would be known to the world. That's where the dream ended.

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I was in a garden and I saw a monarch butterfly on a flower and I was going to take a picture of it on my cell phone. Its wings began to unravel and I realized they were wet, like he was coming out a cocoon. He began to try to fly a little bit and kept landing on me. Two children came up with their dad and the little girl kept wanting to hold the butterfly, but it wouldn't go to her. I would walk on my skin, but when she would put her hand up to it, it wouldn't go to her. So, she grabbed the butterfly in her fist and crushed it. I kept telling her to be careful and then I sat and cried. While sitting there crying I woke up in a house. I was sleeping on the couch and I went to the front door and was sitting watching things going on. I had hung a dress on the front door and I went inside to get something. When I came back two Hispanic gang members were touching the dress. It had fallen and they were picking it up. The had tattoos on their hands and their nails were long and unkempt. They pushed their way into the house and the one went into the backyard where other gang members were coming up to talk to him. The one that stayed in the house wouldn't answer any of my questions. I felt very unsafe with them and decided I needed to go to my bedroom to get my gun. In the meantime, the second gang member had said he was going to the restroom. So, when I went to my bedroom to get my gun it was clear he had been in there and things were trashed and my gun was gone. I became very scared and then I woke up again, on the same couch. I knew I had been dreaming the second time and I was looking around for the two gang members to make sure it was a dream. I hear noise in the backyard and went out there. There was a huge party going on with more gang members. I had two friends with me and I told them we had to go get the gun because I knew we weren't safe. I went into my bedroom and it had again been trashed, but they missed the gun. Then someone came in and a gun fight broke out. I killed 5 members and knew I couldn't take on everyone so we fled out the window and arrived at my school where I woke up.

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I am in a really large house with glass windows and beautiful paintings. The kitchen had a chef and there were two islands where one of my friends Matthew was sitting. I went up to talk to him and my mom came just after, he asked her whether or not he could have a drink and she said yes and I said no jokingly. She yelled at me and told me that I was being disrespectful. Matthew and I then sitting on two white chairs with our laptops. He goes to the washroom and an indian boy around my age comes upstairs and puts a knife to the back of neck and tells me to get up. He says “this is for the best” and lights a match and puts it on the ground. He forces me to walk down the stairs into the basement, ties me to a chair and turns of all the lights. I say “hello” over and over again but no one replies. Eventually I try to get up but he puts what I think is a needle up against my neck. I begin crying. I then hear a boy screaming loudly (who I assume to be Matthew) and hear the roaring of a fire. I scream loudly trying to allow someone to hear me in which time the young indian boy sticks me with the needle.

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