Understand My Dreams basa"d

Dreams no reason

Found 47 dreams containing no reason - Page 2


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Keep having this dream of trying to get somewhere. Walking thru buildings, trying to go in one way and out the other, and last night, walked into this building expecting an exit on the other end, and found none. I had had a job interview somewhere, and was the best dressed, and had to turn around and walk back thru the other people in the restaurant, who did not like me for no reason that was discernable. I have tried "to get somewhere" for many years and have had this dream for more years than that. What's the deal?

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A guy I like (a lot), L, and my best friend (who I am kind of mad at for ditching me and lying about it) were sitting at my dinner table and L offers up some sort of pills for us and we get super high and out of it. My friend and L are talking and completely ignoring me and it seems like everything I try to say is stupid and annoying so I run up to my room and when I finally come back down they're gone? And then I offer some xan to some dude I start talking to and he throws the bars on the ground on purpose in front of police for no reason? What does this mean??

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I was traveling through the Middle East, a rare sight of a woman alone with her children. Everywhere we went, small children with large, dark, haunted eyes would watch my son and daughter as they laughed easily, teased each other and tried to talk to one another in Arabic from a small red phrasebook. One day we sat on a hot, dusty, crowded train. As the vista flashed by outside the window, a young boy, close to the same age as my son, sat across from us with his father. He watched quietly, seriously, as my children giggled, poked at one another and pointed out goats, mountains and beautiful rolling dunes awash in browns, soft pinks and ochers. My daughter turned to the boy and spoke a short phrase to him - "Hello; how are you?" - and suddenly he smiled, huge brown eyes lighting up and his face transformed into that of a beautiful and carefree young man. He began to answer when his father, eyes flashing, gave him a sharp reprimand in the universal language that every parent understands, the tone conveying words I understood in a language I could not. The boy cast his eyes downward. I looked at the man and attempted his language. "I'm sorry and it is not my business yet...why is it not alright for our children to speak with one another?" He looked at me and, with a small sigh, said "Our children are not the same." I said, "We are not wealthy people; you have no reason to dislike us." He barked a short laugh and said, "You, wealthy? You have riches. We -" he pointed at his breast, "we have wealth. We have the wealth that comes from true knowledge of our Creator, of our thousands of years of history, of our struggles. Of our losses. Of our families, of our heritage, of our culture. Your children have riches. Riches of the promise of a future. My son has wealth. But the promise of a future...?" He raised his arms heavenward in a fatalistic gesture and slowly turned his head to look out the window of the train. His proud face looked resigned yet strangely at peace. I woke up with tears running down my face.

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