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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.

Looking at a huge sprawling older home with lots of windows and a veranda. Awoman, a man and a child all dressed in white sleepwear standing on the front steps. I'm also dressed in a long white nightdress. It's nighttime and ypu can see lights on inside of the house. It's a charming home and I think it's beautiful. I walk up the steps to meet the other people. We enter the house, it's very charming with lots of antiques. Lots of detail in this dream. We go through lots of rooms looking at all of the items.

There were three wyverns (dragons with scorpion tails) in my dream. One was green (this was the largest of the three), the second black with a red chaos aura, and the third was white as ivory. I ran to hide from them in a poorly built, old, wooden shack. They did not pursue me. In my curiosity, I ventured to a window to see them. I watched the white one fly away, the green one was already gone, and the black one started looking for me. Then I woke up before there was any kind of conclusion to the dream.

I had a dream last night. I was on board a commercial flight with friends from my previous holiday (we never used planes on that holiday I may add). There were two simultaneous flights. We were on board one aeroplane and another, headed to the same destination was flying slightly ahead of us. From the window I occasionally caught a glimpse of the other plane. At the time of the crash, we were passing over some very tropical and beautiful scene below; there were many locals, possibly African, sailing in tiny boats and fishing and generally bustling around on the coast. As I looked from the window I could see a vast plethora of coloured sails, umbrellas and people wearing fantastically coloured clothes. It was beautiful. Shortly after, a message came over the speaker system that we would be dropping altitude dramatically, in order to overtake the other plane, as our pilot thought they were travelling too slowly and the best way for us to pick up speed in order to pass the plane was to manage a controlled drop from altitude whilst turning. All the passengers and I had full confidence in the pilot and suffered no anxiety. As we lowered towards the beautiful coastal scene I was amazed by the perfect curvature of the earth that I could see, the sea seemed to bend on the horizon. I spoke to my friend next to me, a passenger called Pete from Singapore. He told me much about the locals below and I admired his knowledge, however the details of this conversation escape me. Soon after, another message came over the intercom, it was the pilot. He was very happy, almost boastful, about how well he had done in passing the other plane, and that now we could continue with great speed on to our destination (I don’t actually know where we were headed). The pilot then added that he was now going to regain the appropriate altitude for the flight and therefore a dramatic climb was imminent. The nose of the plane rose to an almost vertical ascent. So much so that I adjusted myself on my seat so that my backside as, in fact, on the headrest of my chair. Other people stayed as they were, seated as though they were in the carriage of a climbing rollercoaster. This is a thought which occurred to me in the dream, it actually felt like we were on a rollercoaster. Despite this everybody was calm. I had a mild disquiet in my stomach however and my trust in the pilot had diminished somewhat. I saw him as an arrogant show-off, was any of this necessary? A short while later, the plane began to stall and fall from the sky. We crashed into the ocean not far from the coast. Things went black for a short moment and there was the feeling of a powerful impact. When vision was restored however, everyone around me was fine, except I had a terrible dread feeling that people somewhere must have lost their lives, and that myself and my neighbours were very lucky to be unharmed. We all quite calmly unbuckled ourselves from the seats and proceeded to force open the door and slide down the escape chutes in a very orderly fashion. We were introduced to the warm tropical ocean for the first time. I paused at the exit and was surprised to see everybody wearing life jackets. I asked the stewardess where they were kept and she claimed not to know. I checked under my seat and found nothing. Nevertheless, I slid down into the sea. The water was warm and calm; the plane wreckage seemed to disappear instantly. Me and my friends swam calmly towards the shore. That beautiful and colourful scene. We were met part way by local fisherman similarly swimming in the water. They had the look of aboriginal or tribal denizens yet were polite and spoke good English, we exchanged greetings and nothing more as we headed to the beach. Upon reaching the sandy shore I remember seeing coins buried under a light covering of sand. I bent down and inspected further. I discovered that the coins were English pennies, all different types. Upon this discovery I was filled with a terrible feeling that the second plane had crashed too, and that must be how these coins arrived upon the beach. I felt, or feared that, everybody on the second plane had died in the crash. It was at this moment that I woke up.

You and I standing at the end of a country platform with three or four others. We have a picnic packed, including a bottle of white wine. You pull the bottle from the basket and ask me to get a corkscrew. I walk up the platform and have to get to the other platform. To do so I must walk through a train, from side to side. It is a troop train, full of damaged soldiers' bodies with missing limbs, wrapped in hessian, lying on straw. I feel sick but plunge through, wondering what detail I should tell you.  We are staying in a hotel, that feels a little like the one we looked at in Nice, with the lift that didn't work. We are desperate for a bath or shower but can't find one. I look around, see a cubicle, but it has only a toilet, not even a basin. As I look at it, you are being told by the receptionist that there are no washing facilities and that if we love each other we won't need to wash. It'll be fun, she says. She shows us where the shower room was, levering up some hardboard so we can peep through to a shower room long boarded up. I wonder if we could crawl through and if the plumbing would work. We decide to beg a shower from another hotel.  We are living in a house in the country.  It is a wreck. The walls are bare lath and plaster. There is no heating, although it is winter. We have several children with us and some adults. I make fires in some rooms. On the top floor I light it in the middle of the floor. On the ground floor is a small coal fire in a big fireplace. My mum is there . I tell her it is a good fire. I return to the top floor to put some rubbish on the fire there but you have swept the fire up and thrown it out of the window, to tidy up. You say best to burn things in the garden. I go downstairs. In the garden you have filled a large brick-lined fireplace with water and are swimming. I join you and say I wish we had thought of this long ago. You look knowing. 

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