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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'm an apartment, DF's apartment, my recent stepfather. This is nothing like his actual house however, though I wasn't thinking like that at the time. The colors of the house are pale, boring, light grey, white, and a shade of tan that barely makes it any brighter. Directly to my left is a large, hardwood table, seen through a pale lens of colorlessness. Farther forward of that it a kitchen, with marble tops and light grey counters, still no contrast or brightness. To my right, and slightly forward is a living room. The wraparound couch is pale tan, badly accentuated with white and light grey pillows. I take a few steps into the living room, and soft plush meets my toes. Looking down, there is light grey fluffy carpet in between my feet. A foggy glass sliding door at the end of the living room. I sense rather than feel the other people in the house. DF, my stepdad, MOM, my mother (Who else?), and my stepbrother, CC. The rest of my immediate family is nowhere to be found, but my thoughts barely brush upon this subject without any feeling of alarm or surprise. Scene change. I'm outside. The sky is a bright blue and the grass is so light it almost looks like frosting. The fence is a wooden color, pale by any normal standards, but neon in comparison to the inside of this house. Our house/apartment rests on the side of a hill, and I see thousands more of the houses spread around us. The hill is alarming steep. A fence surrounds our house except for a small break in the back right corner. Accompanied by neighborhood kids and my brother, CC, I run towards the exit, looking for something adventurous. The rest is a joyful and exciting blur of running around the hillside, and finding an odd stairway that circles downwards. The end of the 'hill' is actually a small hang over, and the staircase is a circular structure leading to a raised concrete wall with a little over a foot of space under it. I remember running down these stairs, feet hitting it and making a loud ringing sound due to the metal structure, even with the actual steps being made of concrete. I remember worming under the wall with someone, hiding and trying to muffle my laughter and quick breathing. Later, I return home, the night sky looking purple, with amazing white lights of a variety of sizes glinting down on use like a cartoon sky. Scene change. I'm farther into the living room now, and it's later in the day, according to the sunlight streaming through the glass door. No one is here with me anymore, except KC sitting on the pale couch. She's doing something. It feels like she's watching a movie or playing a game, but I can't see what she's watching or playing. Odd. I ask her where my phone is, and she turns her head to me quickly before turning it back, light hair flying wildly, emphasizing her youth. She directs me to the kitchen, but doesn't know for sure. I walk into the kitchen, The floor is a pale marbled tile, pale cabinets with stone tops. Every piece of kitchenware is hidden from sight, very unusual for our house. You would see a cast iron tool at the very least sitting on the stove, but none of the usual tools are sitting on the counters. I look around me, not seeing it on the gleaming counter tops. Somehow I determine that the last place I had it was outside. I head out with a cell phone, calling my own phone. I kneel down to use gravity to my advantage, sliding down the steep hill speedily, heading towards the stairway. I run down the stairs in a similar manner that I did the night before, but stop halfway, looking down at the dirty patch of grass on the other side of the wall. I don't see a ringing phone, and am about to leave, but I do see something. A black flip phone with an orange back sits there open. I get halfway through a thought, "MY PHONE IS PURPLE, THAT'S NOT---" but the dream takes over, and I can feel half of myself getting excited and running for the phone. I crawl under the wall, my small chest rubbing on the concrete floor and my back rubbing on the thick wall above me. Anxiously, i hurry over to the other side and pick up the phone, still on my stomach. It's not ringing, and the thought finally gets through to me that that was never my phone to begin with. Suddenly, I'm aware of something vibrating in my hand. I look down to the hand that was holding the phone I was calling myself with. Amazingly, I was holding my familiar purple phone.

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I was traveling through the Middle East, a rare sight of a woman alone with her children. Everywhere we went, small children with large, dark, haunted eyes would watch my son and daughter as they laughed easily, teased each other and tried to talk to one another in Arabic from a small red phrasebook. One day we sat on a hot, dusty, crowded train. As the vista flashed by outside the window, a young boy, close to the same age as my son, sat across from us with his father. He watched quietly, seriously, as my children giggled, poked at one another and pointed out goats, mountains and beautiful rolling dunes awash in browns, soft pinks and ochers. My daughter turned to the boy and spoke a short phrase to him - "Hello; how are you?" - and suddenly he smiled, huge brown eyes lighting up and his face transformed into that of a beautiful and carefree young man. He began to answer when his father, eyes flashing, gave him a sharp reprimand in the universal language that every parent understands, the tone conveying words I understood in a language I could not. The boy cast his eyes downward. I looked at the man and attempted his language. "I'm sorry and it is not my business yet...why is it not alright for our children to speak with one another?" He looked at me and, with a small sigh, said "Our children are not the same." I said, "We are not wealthy people; you have no reason to dislike us." He barked a short laugh and said, "You, wealthy? You have riches. We -" he pointed at his breast, "we have wealth. We have the wealth that comes from true knowledge of our Creator, of our thousands of years of history, of our struggles. Of our losses. Of our families, of our heritage, of our culture. Your children have riches. Riches of the promise of a future. My son has wealth. But the promise of a future...?" He raised his arms heavenward in a fatalistic gesture and slowly turned his head to look out the window of the train. His proud face looked resigned yet strangely at peace. I woke up with tears running down my face.

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I am a 21 year old man settled in USA and doing college, I was born and raised up in India until I turned 18. I had a dream last night, actually I woke up just 30 mins ago. I saw my one of the best teachers in my dream, she was my Malayalam language teacher from 3rd grade to 8th, I really liked and respected her because I never seen that much teachers like her with a positive mentality of teaching. After 8th grade I changed my school, next four years, I was in another school. I came to USA 3.5 years ago, so I haven't see her for last 7.5 years. May be I have thought about her in between, but not for last one year, and I am sure. Here is the dream and it was pretty disturbing for me.....I went to India for a visit, I was in the school I believe (in a second floor, I really don't know exact place), lots of students were around me, and one of my best friend was also with me (this best friend was not her student, I saw him after my 10th grade, I don't know why he came there) . Teacher saw me, she looked at me and start memorizing or thinking, and I told her that I was her student and classes. Disturbing and disgusting part was that - there was some kind of growth wide spread on her both forearms, her forearms looked like cactus plant or even worse. I walked down to first floor, and saw even more disturbing part, I saw same growths under her both breasts ( I really don't know how I saw that, she was wearing proper dress. I don't know if breast shows some kind of sexual thing. I promise, I considered her like my mother). After that, I saw her using some kind of liquid medicine on her arms, as soon as she massage with that liquid, the growth went away, but restarted again, actually she was showing this to the students or people around her, and explaining about it. This dream felt so real, and even after I woke up, I felt like I just watch a movie. I would like to know an explanation....why I saw her, what was that disgusting disease, or what does it mean, medication.....please only serious answers.....................thanks in advance....

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I found an abandoned female toddler in a shack in the middle of the woods who had been raised by apes. She was absolutely hideous; she had broken teeth, furry eyebrows, and horrifyingly damaged hair. When I picked her up I noticed she had terrible skin breakdown on her buttocks. I vividly saw her name as Protonefferrrre. I also saw her family tree which consisted of all monkeys and apes, but on a separate branch I saw the faces of her biological parents. They were still alive but unable to be found. I felt the need to care for this little girl so I took her home and adopted her.

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I had a dream I was pregnant for a short while and once I began actually going into labor I noticed it was incredibly easy. There was nothing painful, difficult, or intense about it. There were no complications or struggles and the labor went by so fast that it was unreal. The baby was here and it was a little boy. I was happy and I loved the little boy. Only after I had him did I find out that I actually had a total of three biological sons. A family I didn’t recognize came to see me and told me I had two older sons. I looked at the two boys; they were not yet adults, but older adolescents. I looked at them and had no recollection of carrying them or even going through labor twice in my past but I knew these boys were my sons. I never knew how or why I lost them it was never explained to me. The woman in this family seemed to be their care-taker or maybe she wasn’t even really a woman, maybe she was really a guardian Angel; nevertheless she had my two sons and though they may have never seen me, as I was sure I had never seen them, they were comfortable letting me be their mother again. In the process of this revelation I was able to give my two sons new names as if reclaiming my ownership over them and in this order called them Daniel and Paul naming the older one first. I didn’t understand exactly what was going on but without words ever being spoken or exchanged I understood that my two sons couldn’t be given back to me right now, however, I was given unspoken confirmation that they would eventually return to me soon. I then took the little boy I had just given birth to, gave him a name, then raised and nurtured him. He grew up under my care; I loved him, kept up with him, and protected him. In the dream no matter where I went he was always there and never too far away from me. I had not yet had my two older sons returned to me but I always knew it would happen soon, so I was comforted. In the mean time I had my third son and I was pleased.

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