My cousin committed suicide in 2018. A few months later, I had an extremely vivid dream that I found him working in a non-descript factory that didn’t make anything I recognized. We were in the cafeteria, and I couldn’t get him to respond to me. I knew I had to get him out somehow, without alerting the managers. All the doors were locked, big double-wide things with push-bars like you see in schools.

Somehow, I found my way to a maintenance closet up high on a wall. I found out there that management was looking for me, but didn’t know where I was (I had to fly to get to the closet, yes, if I’m aware I can fly in my dreams). In the closet I found a little bit of thermite, in a blister package like you would find in the checkout aisle at a supermarket.

By this time, my cousin was back at his station, doing non-descript factory work, and still not responsive. I grabbed the thermite, found him, and led him to the doors. I poured the thermite into the lock, and tried finding something to ignite it. By this time management knew where I was, and they were coming toward us. I still hadn’t lit the thermite.

And I woke up.

When I was like 5 or so I used to have these really weird dreams where I was like floating in a solid color void and then there were like big orbs you could eat and I remember them having a very unique texture when you bit into them.

Once I had a dream where I was driving down the street in a canoe, and there was a goose in the road. I hit the goose which then exploded in a shower of minnows, at which point I woke up and thought, “Jesus, try to figure that one out, Freud.”

I have the distinct memory of freezing to death as a child. I remember playing in the snow unsupervised, building a tall clyandrical fort, climbing in from above and not being able to get out. I remember clawing until my hands couldn’t be felt anymore and crying and screaming for help . Nobody came. Eventually I collapsed from exposure and thats where the memory ends. I want to think its just a bad dream but its unlike any other childhood nightmare with boogeymen or fever dreams. It was just too real for a toddlers imagination.

A few days ago I dreamt, that a fucking rat bit my testicles and panically tried to rip the rat of and because of that I actually pulled at my testicles thinking it was the rat, until I completely woke up and realised.

I had a zombie dream but the weird part was when I got bit and didn’t wake up. I ended up turning into the undead and the dream went from nightmare to fun as I chased people and ate them. Eating the flesh part was very vivid.

It’s a shame I wasn’t in therapy because I bet that would have been a joy to unravel.

I dreamt with Rihanna once. I didn’t want to wake up. I wish I could see her again

I’ve had two memorable dreams about being a different race. (I’m native, brown skinned)

When I was a kid I dreamed I was a white guy in Miami wearing a white suit driving a red convertible with a beautiful woman next to me and then at the end of the dream I put $50,000 under my bed because I needed it for a business transaction the next day and when I woke up in real life the first thing I did was look under my bed for the money and it wasn’t there.

The second time I dreamed I was a black military guy wearing one of those olive green t-shirts and I went into a convenience store that got robbed while I was in it and I tried to react but the robber stabbed me in the stomach and I collapsed into a shelf of chips and watched myself bleed out until I was just about to die and then I woke up.

I’ll get into some background on my childhood home before I elaborate on my most terrifying dream, which I used to have on a reoccurring basis when I lived there. I haven’t had it since I moved out.

When my parents purchased the house I grew up in, there were some odd things about the house. The bedrooms in the home had deadbolts on them, on the bedroom side. Never got a good answer as to the why, and honestly it may be better not knowing. They later found out that one of the daughters that had lived there had walked down to the nearby train line where she then committed suicide. I never learned about either of these things until I was an adult. Pretty creepy!

I used to spend a lot of time in the basement of this home. As a child, it was where all my toys were stored and as I got older it was where I would play video games and hang out with friends. I had friends that swore they saw things moving down there unassisted and one time a friend told me they heard the piano we had playing with nobody present in the room. I never saw or heard any of that, but there were times in the basement I felt like I was being watched.

So with that background out of the way, back to my reoccurring dream. It would always start with me doing something in the basement, and it would always be a different activity. I could be doing laundry, playing games, or just grabbing something from our secondary fridge, innocuous things like that. I was always performing these activities inexplicably late at night, around 3am. While in the process of doing the task, I would begin to feel like I was being watched, with an overbearing feeling of pressure and impending doom surrounding me. This feeling of doom would quickly evolve into terror, and every time I would rush to the basement steps as the terror and pressure increased. I would then begin rushing up the steps, while feeling the malevolent source of my terror just behind me.

In the dreams, I was always too terrified to look behind me. The further up the steps I would get, the heavier my feet would feel. By the time I was halfway up the steps, my feet felt like cinder blocks. A sprint up the stairs turned to a slow walk, as if I was suddenly geriatric. With every advancing stair the feeling of doom would only become more and more overbearing, as if I was drowning. Still, my eyes were glued on the light shining from the kitchen above, safety just in front of me. My slow walk slowed regardless, until I was just a step or two away from the kitchen, fighting with every ounce of my strength to keep going. Darkness would creep around the edges of my vision, and at this point I would lose control of my own body.

Without even seeing anything, I knew there was something at the bottom of the stairs, controlling my body as if I was a marionette. I cannot begin to describe how terrified I was of turning around, but regardless, my body was forced to turn by this force to gaze upon it. I was involuntarily turned around and forced to sit on the very top step, just shy of salvation, frozen in place.

At the bottom of the steps was a man in a clean black suit. He had pale skin, a flat, expressionless face, and black sunken pits where his eyes should have been. He would stand motionless at the bottom of the steps, presumably staring at me despite his lack of eyes. There was nothing I wanted less than to look at him, but I was forced to sit and stare into his black gaze, completely powerless. It felt as if he was looking right through me, straight into my soul, feeding off of my horror. It’s at this point that I would eventually awaken in a sweat. Ugh.

It’s been years since I’ve moved out and I can’t think of a single time I’ve had the dream since. I’m not particularly superstitious but I sure as shit don’t love that dream, or being in that basement late at night alone.

The weirdest thing about most of my dreams is that neither myself nor anyone I know is ever really in them. My brain just quite literally writes completely fictional movies for me to watch, with made up actors, made up places, etc…

One of the ones I remember the most was about two androids (a married couple???) are on holiday at a remote resort surrounded by forests on all sides. It’s not explained, but my brain just knows that this is a world where humanoid androids have entirely replaced biological humans and have essentially just “adopted” their lifestyles, but we don’t know what happened to the humans yet.

In the middle of their stay, two things happen simultaneously; first, the nuclear reactor that powers the resort begins to go critical and they need to escape. But outside, a horde of savage humans, essentially devolved cavemen, attack the resort, trapping them inside. With no way out, they find out that they can delay the meltdown by putting pencils on top of each heat vent on the floor (because sure, brain…why not?).

And then I woke up. Never did learn how it ended.

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I remember a very vivid dream I had about…i wanna say aliens. This was when I was living in another city for University. In my dream, I was back home near a grocery store and there was a crowd of people gathered around some strange, black goop on a powerline that was moving. Then, more kept falling from the sky. The sky turned a dark, brownish colour and suddenly strange buildings started to randomly appear all over the town. Pyramids replaced buildings, sandstone structures appeared all over. I looked up at the sky and saw that it was replaced by what looked like humungous sandstone slabs. Like a stone floor. There were large holes in this ceiling that showed that these slabs were large pillars hanging down from something but I couldn’t see since it was shrouded in darkness. Then, after exploring one of these pyramids that strangely looked like layout of the store it replaced, I remember walking out and seeing the sky then replaced by what looked like the surface of different planets. But, it looked like these planets were merged with each other, like they were phasing in and out of existence. I saw lights in the sky, like planes or something, flying around. Then, before I woke up, I remember hearing someone say “You’re quarantined to this planet, but your neighbors are free to come and go as they please.”

A strange but very awesome dream.

My weirdest dream was a dream where I was dreaming of a dream I had previously where I was in my bed and watching myself from the corner of my room dreaming with the feeling of a dream I had previously dreamt. But as it turns out it was just a dream. and then I saw the shadow person in the corner of my room

I recently dreamt that I had thicker, fuller eyelashes and they looked good. I saw myself in the mirror and was impressed by them.

The rain drops hit me, so rhythmically, like sticks on a drum set with thirty arms. I struggled to keep my pale yellow canoe from capsizing as the rapids shook the orientation out of me while I ricocheted off countless fleshy protrusions from the water. They were the fingers of giants, cradling ivory liquid and grainy, beige leaf-like objects floating around me. The smell of cinnamon sugar infected the air. The sizzle of grease from afar hissed and taunted me.

My vessel was a hollow peel of a slightly browning banana. My oar was a long red plastic beam–a life size version of what you would use to spread cheese on crackers from a school lunch box.

The storm thickened. The wind became more turbulent.

As I finally, managed to gain my stability, I looked up and felt the gentle breeze as a shadow overtook my vicinity. There I saw it!

The glaring reflection on the concave, metal bottom of a spoon that was more like a giant shovel at this perspective. I paddled and shuffled the milky substance behind myself, frantic and panting in this panic. Surely, I will soon be eaten.

Then, as I thought it couldn’t get worse, came the ants. Although, at my size, they were the size of wildebeests. The liquid danced around their appendages as they scuttled through the now shallow bowl of milk. As they dominated the horizon, I thought I might be able to comandeer one of them and steer myself to safety.

I grabbed my oar and some fibrous strands from my banana peel canoe and slushed my way toward the brood. My face soaked and sticky from the sugary substance. I lassoed one of them and straddled on one of their backs. I held on for my life depended on it.

I was halfway across the bowl. It was like a collesseum to me. Then, I felt the seismic floor shift! The bowl and it’s contents, I could hear being dragged across the wooden table. The sound of glass and wood friction was unmistakable. We were all lifted toward the fleshy cave of the giant’s mouth. I could smell the pungent odor of its halitosis. That stale milk smell. Ugh…

I hear the blaring sound. The ringing. The drone of gradual realization. The bane of a new day! But my dismay was somehow conflicted with hope as I could almost picture the bright red numbers and the big button with the word: ‘Snooze’ almost worn off’.

“Hey,” I hear a familiar voice echoing from the corridors of the dwelling, “Good Morning. Do you want bacon and eggs or cereal this morning!?”