These are pieces of dreams that I remember:
(this is can't be more than
two years old, probably just that, actually)
I was walking on a street and it was winter. The sky was somehow
purple and there was ice in the air. I swear there was, small
pieces of ice everywhere that hurts my skin and reflected light
so that it looked like the whole sky was shining (in shades of
purple and light pink). I was walking on a street that was
slippery, I almost fell down a few times.
I was walking downhill and looking at this marvellous tree that
was completely covered in ice when I fell. This time I couldn't
regain my balance so I flew through the air, backside first and
hit the ground. Right before I hit my head to the street I knew I
was going to die. I just knew it. And I was very relieved about
it.
(Needless to say, I think , is that one description of an actual happening I read on a.s.h. one day that was just like my dream disturbed me immensely.)
- - -
(a very old one)
I was indside our house, looking out at the dirt road that goes
right by our living-room widow. It was summer, and above the road
was a cloud of dust that was shaped like a rectabgle. It kept
moving in the wind that blew more dust in the air. I kept
watching through the window, knowing that there was something I
had to watch out for. I was scared but I knew that as long as I
stayed inside I'd be fine. Nothing could get to me.
Then the window blew to pieces and I was standing by the road. The cloud of dirt had disappeared, there was no wind anymore. I knew they were on their way to get me, getting closer every second. I didn't know who or what it was until I saw a figure running at me, with a syringe in his hand. There was something brown and liquid inside it andI knew he was going to stick it into me and that the liquid was something horrible, poisonous. I knew I had to avoid getting caught at any cost. At which point I started running away.
There's a park right beside
our house and although I knew I shouldn't have, I couldn't avoid
running there. It was like someone or something had kicked me to
that direction and there was nothing I could do. And of course
the guy with the syringe got to me. He stuck it under my skin,
emptied it and disappeared. I started running home and I was
terrified. I knew I was going to die because of it. I got home,
and tried to hide under the bed but there was a huge mirror so I
couldn't fit in. When I looked at myself in the mirror I could
see some brown, mold-like tumors growing to my hands and face.
Which is when I woke up.