Understand My Dreams basa"d

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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 house similar to my grat, great grandmother's, but it wasn't quite her house. Everything was dark and the lights were very dim. There were two men who locked the door to the house and declared it as their own while I was hiding in another room that was a lot darker. Eventually, a few people came and the two men were arrested, but for some reason the men envoked great fear in me. I remember at one point being in the bathroom, but I don't remember anything other than it was important. Next, the dream seemed to change into me and two other girls being chased by Jeremiah Valeska. There was a part where the two girls were laying vertically underneath two seperate cars, and I was horizontal between the two cars, but for some reason he didn't see me. Eventually in the dream, I was back to the house, but it was more like a maze now. Jeremiah had the mannerisms of his twin, Jerome Valeska, and it put me on edge for some reason. I can't remember much more of the dream.

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I was about to wake up a week ago and saw my son (33yrs) who passed on mysteriously a year ago ask me not to wake up as he wanted to five me a message. I was between . and waking because I could hear people in the house talking while..I was dreaming. I saw unknown hands paging through a magazine. On the page was my son and he said Mommy, I am ready to speak so I asked what he was talking about and he said I would get a copy of Tha magazine and should not worry. While I was puzzled..he appeared on a TV screen holding a bottle of Cider and took a sip of it and raised it as if to toast and said to me..I will also appear here. I am ready to speak. He disappeared. He was a light skinned and was so when I last saw him at the mortuary but a week later when we laid him to rest he looked like soot and his lips were a raw pink and peeling

I just had the worst dream: *it was a follow up to a dream I had when I was younger• *disclaimer in the dream I realize I had experienced this before as a teenager and the exact events are happening again with what seem like different people* “I start reading a horror book that is super popular, all of a sudden the things in the book start happening to me, and I keep thinking to myself there is no way this is in the book because I experience it, and all of a sudden these things start happening to me again. There are all males in the dream except for one other female...everyone in the dream is trying to rape me. I am woken up one night by someone that I trust with a phone call telling me to get out of the house because everything is real and some guys are on the way to get me, on the way outside to get away one guy starts to chase me and I stab him and all he is saying is that was not the way you did it all those years ago try again! I get outside and there seem to be about 10 men. I am running and finally I run into the arms of the male that called me, but turns out he is working with them and we are scrambling and I am trying to get away from him and I stab him in between the shoulder blades, he starts laughing going you aren’t going to kill me that way and proceeds to take the knife out yelling don’t you remember and stabs himself in the same place I did years ago.” At this point in real life I wake up hyperventilating and screaming. If anyone could help me interpret this dream it would be helpful because the is the 2nd time I’ve had it in the last 5 years and it is terrifying it feels so real.

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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