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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 have decided last minute to travel overseas from my home (australia to ?America?) my partner is not with me at the airport, my tickets have the wrong names on them they are in this flip book thing like a cheque book and I almost miss my flight standing at the airline counter (a male staff member is helping me) I am flustered and begin flipping madly through the book and find them attached towards the middle, other people's tickets... Names I don't recognize are in the book before mine. I am now on the flight. I arrive at the hotel and for some reason my partner is in the taxi with me on the way there? We check in (hotel is very luxurious) and take an elevator to our room escorted by a man with our luggage he brings the luggage in and leaves. We are both happy discussing what we want to eat and I open my suitcase to get changed and all my clothes are dirty... There is a knock at the door and the luggage man from before comes in drops his pants (naked) and states he needs to use the toilet he goes in sits on the toilet and is discussing things in the hotel magazine with me half way through the conversation the man turns into someone else an older man with a thick accent that is hard to understand.. He gets up from the toilet and tries to leave with the magazine but I argue with him that he can't take it as it's the hotels and we will have to pay for it he tears out a few pages and leaves. I go back to my suitcase and we keep discussing food options I want to go to a fast food resturant that we don't have in Australia and I am adamant I know where it is because I have been there before (yet this place is unfimilar to me in reality?) we are now talking with a lady outside our room who is flirting with my partner because of his australian accent, I grow more and more frustrated wanting to get away from the conversation and go back into the room. I go in dragging my partner with me as he apoligizes to the woman for our rudeness and when I enter there is a random couple sitting on the couches opposite each other in our room flipping through magazines, I question their presance and ask them to leave, they do so hesitantly. After they are gone I go back to my suitcase rummaging throuhh there are only dirty clothes and I have nothing to wear this angers me and I start questioning my partner as to why all the clothes I have packed are dirty. At this point I feel something stack in my teeth and I go to pull it out and begin pulling out strand after strand of my long brown hair out of my teeth and mouth, I am getting anxious and afraid and keep asking my partner to help me saying over and over it's stuck in my teeth as I feel I am begining to choke on all the hair filling my mouth I wake up..... What the hell does all this mean? Please help....

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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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My girlfriend came over to my house asked me for a ride . on the way we ran into a maiden dressed in all white who looked like an angel, she also wanted a ride so we agreed. on the way she was very strange and suspicious although didnt seem malicious in intent. we told her we couldnt take her any farther and we seperated. my girlfriend s demeaner changed and became like the maidens very quite and suspicious' i told her and asked "you're not her, where is she?" she replied "shes safe". I put her on my back and carried because when were being pursued by" authorities" we ran and ran while she gave me advice and hints about certain things of my interest. we then came to a somewhat dark place where there were a whole bunch on pple doing sexually immoral acts. I saw my girlfriend dressed like a slut and kissing some guy. I called out to her and she didnt recongnize me. I asked her" isnt that your boyfriend over kissing some guy?" and she said" we do that just in case we want to swap partners" i ran away heartbroken with the maiden behind outside where is started to rain. the raind hitting me was very hard and big and started to deform and i started to grow big and grow out wing. I turned into a monster and went back to same plce where they were all worshipping another monster and my dream ended as i was about to fight that other huge monster.

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Me and my mother was running as if being chased we got separate i fell downward and she and she went upward and broke her hip, i later found her surrounded btw other women that was telling me she with them now,my mom was in a bed but she had the covers from her bed; next thing i remember my mom. was sitting in a chair looking very old and sick and i remember sayingvlet me hold my mom to someone, so i was holding her Luke a new baby and i kept kissing her like you do a newborn then she started throwing her head. back and both her feet was going up and down while i was holding her

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I was in a large house filled with people I know and people I don't know. It was for a show for musicians and I wasn't sure why I was there just that I was. Everyone had already showered and I was running up and downstairs in a bikini trying to find my shampoo and soap and towel to take one too, but I couldn't find anything. I didn't even know what room I was staying in. The staircase was red carpeted and kind of swirling but not round and a little confusing. When I ran upstairs it was the girls area and I'd talk with them a little and felt they were superior than me. and I'd run downstairs trying to find my stuff again getting frustrated and downstairs was the guys. And one of the guys I know in life but I never talk to him and he tried to help a little but not much and I kept going up and down the stairs and never found any of my stuff.

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