Understand My Dreams basa"d

Dreams why

Found 1,245 dreams containing why - Page 73


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 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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In the dream I open my eyes and I look around. At first I forget where I am. And then I realize that I’m in my room. And I look over and I’m watching my grandma sleep. When I’m first watching she’s breathing, she’s kind of twitching like most people do in their sleep, and her oxygen mask is on correctly. Then the room grows darker, colder, and just eerie. Like something from a scary movie. And as I’m crossing the room to wake her up, I see she’s not breathing, she’s not moving, and her oxygen mask has moved from its proper placement. At first I don’t know what to do. I scream for help, but no one comes. So I start crying and shaking and halfway screaming to her to wake up. But nothing happens. She doesn’t wake up. As I’m sitting there just crying, she moves a little, like someone waking up from a coma, so I straighten up. Then she shoots up. And she just sits there for a few minutes. And I try to talk to her. She doesn’t respond. She just stares at the wall in front of her. Then out of nowhere she looks at me a starts babbling. And then she says to me, “It’s your fault. Why didn’t you wake me sooner! You could have saved me!”

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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 friend and i was on the school bus when my other friend got mad and got off and when we got to our stop it was raining so i put on my jacket and ran home. when i got home this cute boy that i like was standing out side so i when up the stairs and said excuse me in a poliet and quiet voice and then he held me hand and then i said why didn't you call me but i knew i should have called him because i had his phone number. but then my parents came outside and i hid behind a car untill they left then i ent back upstairs next to him and my friend and all of a sudden his little sister was in his arms and i said aww and he gave me his sister to hold and i said she was really cute and then my friend walked me in the house to get my phone and then she did my hair and my hair color was purple, blue and had sparkles in it

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I dreamt that I secretly meet my ex boyfriend at a resturant. He explains to me why he has been so nasty with me. That he has a jealous girlfriend who watches his every move and that is the reason why he could not keep in touch. He is not sure if he wants to marry her. We get to my house and I tell him that I am going to tell my husband that he came to visit. I go and tell my husband who gets very upset about the idea. I then go back and tell him to take his stuff and go obeying my husband demands.

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