Understand My Dreams basa"d

Dreams salon

Found 32 dreams containing salon - 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.

In real life, I am a brunette, but in my dream, I am a blonde. I'm in a prison cell, yet the room around my cell resembles that of a salon. Outside my cell are my "parents" arguing. The mother asks him how he could have kept my imprisonment from her. In my hand is a gray cellphone and a voicemail is playing and it said something like "Take a left at the door. Right down the hall. *There was a pause* Pretty..." and then it ended. My cell is now unlocked and I walk to the door of the salon, with the phone held to my ear. Suddenly, it's an old-fashioned tape-recorder, playing a different, but similar message as I walk down the sidewalk. Looking around the corner, I see a bald, buff man in a suit, I can't make out his face though. The recording says "Take a left down the hall. See the man. His name is Dog. Your nails look pretty." Turning, I run out onto the parking lot towards my dad (he is my real-life dad this time). He sees that I am scared and walks towards the direction of "Dog." That's all I can remember.

> Read Dream Analysis

I was getting a manicure but the salon was closing up so she was rushing doing my nails. She painted them purple but it was messy and unfinished. The owner arrived and said that they were closing but if I walked with them somewhere else that I could get my nails finished. So they got me to help them carry things to wherever they needed to go but they disappeared and didn't finish my nails for me. I had to walk back to the salon where my mum was parked outside waiting for me. Walking home I was exhausted and the journey took longer on the way back my skin started blistering and I became so tired I had to crawl and people were staring at me but no one helped. I finally got back to the car and told my mum what had happened.

> Read Dream Analysis

Je suis dans une maison. C’est celle de Marie-Pierre mais dans mon rêve, c’est la maison nous nous habitons avec maman et les autres. Nous sommes assis par terre devant le canapé avec Alois, peut être aussi Oriane qui n’est pas loin. Parc contre c’est le salon de Teverga. Je crois que nous ne sommes pas d’accord sur le film que nous désirons voir toute les deux avec Alois. Oriane ne prend pas partie il me semble (si elle est là) elle fait autre chose . Sensation d’énervement, de fatigue, de lourdeur lié à la paresse d’être resté longtemps à ne rien faire il me semble. Ce que reproche Pascal qui arrive, il est énervé, il faut mettre la table, faire à manger.. Je me lève, je ne suis pas fière de notre état de léthargie, je m’aperçois qu’il n’y a presque aucun meuble, le salon est grand, blanc, il me semble qu’il y a des bâches en plastiques transparent tendues sur le mur du fond, derrière le canapé de Teverga, (sur lequel je suis endormie dans la réalité) ce lieu me fais penser a chez tatie Mylene, un grand espace blanc peu meublé et pas décoré. Je me dirige dans la cuisine pour aider, faire quelque chose, en tournant dans un couloir (vide encore) d’un vert étrange, un peu écaillé, unvert Smaragdin,qui est lié à la maison de Marie-Pierre, en fait je pense que le vert de mon rêve est une version plus claire de la moquette en plastique qui recouvre le sol du salon de cette maison, et qui d’ailleur a été en parti abîmé par le feu d’une cheminé. (dans mon rêve, le revêtement du mur était aussi endommagé). J’arrive à la cuisine, (c’est la cuisine de Marie-Pierre) il me semble qu’il y a moins de meubles à mesure que j’avance dans mon rêve- dans la cuisine Pascal est énervé, je m’empresse de mettre la table, avec un sourire affable mais faible,(ici, je ressens un sentiment de honte vague quant à mon comportement, le même que je ressens quand Sylvie me reproche une chose et qu’elle a raison) je vais chercher les couverts (fourchette et couteau) au fond d’une armoire de basse qualité, avec des portes en verres, en fait qui est celle du salon de Teverga où l’on range les verres mais en plus vétuste. Dès que j’ai la tête dans l’armoire je sens une grimace me tordre le visage, je veux pleurer mais aucune larme ne vient. Première pensé : « tu ne vas pas pleurer, tu t’étais dit que tu ne pleurerait plus maintenant »

> Read Dream Analysis

In my dream, I am a blonde. I'm in a prison cell, yet the room around my cell resembles that of a salon. Outside my cell are my "parents" arguing. The mother asks him how he could have kept my imprisonment from her. In my hand is a gray cellphone and a voicemail is playing and it said something like "Take a left at the door. Right down the hall. *There was a pause* Pretty..." and then it ended. My cell is now unlocked and I walk to the door of the salon, with the phone held to my ear. Suddenly, it's an old-fashioned tape-recorder, playing a different, but similar message as I walk down the sidewalk. Looking around the corner, I see a bald, buff man in a suit, I can't make out his face though. The recording says "Take a left down the hall. See the man. His name is Dog. Your nails look pretty." Turning, I run out onto the parking lot towards my dad (he is my real-life dad this time). He sees that I am scared and walks towards the direction of "Dog." That's all I can remember.

> Read Dream Analysis
2 Next Page >>
RSS