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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 standing in a field near a bridge by my house. To my left was a small black dog that grew bigger when I looked away. When it got bigger, it became a pit bull and I was fearful of it. I had a baseball bat in my hands and I was swinging the bat at the dog. I had a smaller dog to my right. I kept swinging the bat at the black dog and trying to scare it away, but it didn't work. The black dog was not threatening to me and was quiet and submissive. The black dog looked scared of me.

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Me and a friend were standing outside near a parking lot near my sons school and a car rolled into a parking spot but did not have a driver. i noticed this and exclaimed "What if there is a bomb in that car" at which point the car exploded. I frantically began looking for my son. He appeared through the smoke walking towards me in only a diaper. He is eight. He was very afraid and would not let me go. In the dream I was shown a flashback of what had happened to him after the explosion. My son was saving people by dragging them and laying them all in a row one after another. At the head of the dead people he was placing the severed head of a white horse that he wore himself while dragging their bodies.

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It was mainly me watching a movie or something of some sort with someone I couldn’t quite decipher and in the movie there was this teleportation thing and so when I was hanging out with friends later (this was at night) the friends and I were going to have a picnic at the lake near by where i guess we grew up but something had happened to where the lake was almost poisoned and smelled like cow poop, and the smell was like magic and it made everyone wanna fight each other and in the end the last few living of us teleported to some golf course all clean and everything and then I got a text from my mom saying my knee was bad and I couldn’t act and the list of 4 new medications, then it was revealed one was for eating more... I cried and my friends went home and I went to a friends home to grieve over her loss but there she was cleaning her room, Turns our everyone we thought was dead was fine

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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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