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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.

Went to my parents home with my dog, but couldn't rest. I went to walk him, and lost him outside the supermarket. I approached a man getting into a car & he had kids and a dog, but it wasn't my dog. Going back to the supermarket, I saw my dog run to me. Then I started to walk home along a narrow path close to the road going uphill, and a young man ran by, then stopped, saying something unintelligible but threatening. I walked across the street, seeing the path led to a maze with some carousel type rides. I didn't think I could climb fast enough not to block the people behind me. Then I saw a commuter train, got on, discovering I had lost my wallet. The women online told me the train went to the university downtown, at Church st. I thought I could call my father to pick us up if I could borrow some change. I saw a group of university men jogging, and asked for help, but they ignored me. One ran back to tell me I was abusing my dog by not giving me water. I found the main intersection & tried to flag down a cab, but could not.

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I am in a large, turn of the century house. I wander through it, looking for someone, but I can't remember who - or who owns the house. The dream is vivid. I can hear chickens, smell dust and mustiness in rarely used spaces, I can pick up and examine objects (many of which I remember from somewhere. These things are detailed, often personal, lovely but I can't remember who they belong to or if they might have been mine at that time somehow), I can feel the heat of the fire in the stove and delight at using the water pump in the summer kitchen. It all feels familiar as I search the house up to the attic and then down (very steep, narrow stairs to that attic!) When I get to the cellar door in the kitchen, I start to feel foreboding - but compelled to keep searching. As I go down the stairs to the cellar, I can identify the coal shed door, on old cast iron heater of some kind and another door. I look through the cellar, open the door to the coal shed and then approach the other door. It is identifiably different or out of place but I can't pin down exactly how it is different or what makes it out of place. I do "know" that I am strongly compelled to open it - and too terrified to. Extreme dread and foreboding when I reach for that doorknob usually wake me - sometimmes screaming. I have wakened my family peiodically through my life with this. I can't remember the first time I had the dream but I've had it throughout my life. It tends to leave me very nervous and unsettled, sometimes for days.

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On the first day, I'm walking along narrow path. 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.

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I was in a truck with my sister and brother in law and thier family . We were headed to a bridge at a very high speed and the bridge I could see was kind of narrow one way bridge.my sister and I were scared and started to tell my brother in law to slow down as all of us thought that we could go over the bridge and fall into the water. It's so funny as my brother in law passed away back in 2015. But the way that I saw him was like he had druck to much and he was falling and being crazy.

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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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