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Found 155 dreams containing pale - Page 2


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.

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The part of the dream that i remember starts in a grey clay house with one window the skies are blue and the temperature is nice and soft the house does not have a roof and there is one more person there it is a pale bald man with a very plain face the appearance of the person is pretty much as undressed as it can be i feel close to this person maybe as a friend maybe more but im unsure even in the dream i feel unsure the person begins to bang his head on the wall to the left i seem to understand why the person does this and i somehow even agree to what hes doing after banging hes head on the wall i see a red circle on his forehead the person smiles the person lies down on the floor the person tells me it wants to die and asks me to pick up one of the multiple huge boulders in the room and drop it on hes head i reach for the boulder but i cannot bring myself to pick it up now two other persons without faces come into the room and start kicking the person a few times before picking up one of the boulders they carry it above the persons head and i move out of the building intense fear and sadness are what i feel next i move back into the building but there is nothing there except for a few stones and boulders now all of a sudden i feel like i want to die it feels so unreal looking back at the emotion and feeling i felt in the dream like nothing i have ever experienced in real life the feeling was completely alien to me it was not even like a want but it felt necesarry to die i wanted to die i had to two wooden supports appear in the room i set up the supports and before i know it the big boulder simply lies on it enough room for my head under it all it would take is me lying under there and pushing out one of the supports i sit down besides it and i feel very heavy i lay down and close my eyes envision nothingness before opening my eyes and leaving the room i stand outisde to room near a ledge with a small wall i lean on the wall with both my arms and look over it i see a beautifull sand beach and a blue sea with blue skies above it it feels so empty and sad i wake up

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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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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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