Understand My Dreams basa"d

Dreams coat

Found 215 dreams containing coat - Page 13


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.

2 nights prior to having the dream, I asked God to show me my angel. My dream was: I was an adult in a house dressed in a pink housecoat(very thin robe) and my hair was in plaits. Some intruders (3 or 4 young adult males) came into the house and murdered my family in front of me. All of a sudden I saw a tall man walking towards my house. I was watching him approach the house from a window. The intruders were still in the house. I thought to myself, "Oh no, please don't come to visit today, I have murderers in my house. The man was tall and black and holding a little girl's hand. The little girl had on a pink dress and her hair was in plaits.(like I looked but only as a little girl) The man entered the house and the intruders cut his throat with a large knife and he dropped to the floor in front of me. They never tried to hurt me though. I did not see the little girl at this point. As I lay on the floor sobbing because of the slaughter that had happened in front of me, I decided to turn over a body that was next to me. As soon as I touched the body, the person stood up. I touched another person to see who it was and they also stood up as if nothing had happened, as did everyone in the room who had been killed. Then I walked over to a closet, opened the door, and slid back a hidden panel inside the closet and there was the tall black man standing with an impression that was halfway between a smile and a pleasant look. The little girl was not with him. He just stood there looking at me like nothing had happened. The feeling I got was that what was done...had somehow been "undone". NOt that it did not happen, just that it had been undone.

> Read Dream Analysis

I had a dream that a friend of mine showed class notes from elementry school. In these notes Idiscussed how Ididnt like the man who is now my boyfriend . When he saw these, he was really mad and was ignoring me. Wouldn't answer his phone, or sit with me on the bus like usual. I skipped school but my teacher made me come, Icame to school in a pink housecoat and no makeup my hair wasn't done. And Iwent up to him crying, saying Ilove you and I'm sorry. I need you.

> Read Dream Analysis

“You know that place between sleeping and awake, that place where you can still remember dreaming? That's where I'll always think of you.” ― J.M. Barrie My name is Shannon. I'm a seventeen year old girl with a cognitive sleep disorder, who doesn't dream. I haven't had a real dream in ten years. When I go to sleep, my body and my brain shuts off, until it's either time to wake up, or pass between the realm of the sleeping, and the awake. In these ten years, when I slept I was plagued with nightmares, vivid nightmares beyond my control that stay with me, haunt me during the day. I'd see the figures in my nightmares everywhere, be it people, or unexplainable things. But today, when I slept, something happened: I was sleeping, yet awake and well aware, and while this was happening, I was dreaming. This dream has to be the most real thing that has ever happened. Let me tell you what happened: I was sitting outside of a lovely, slightly older house with a young man, he was a little older than I was, Maybe nineteen or twenty. It was dark, snow was falling to the ground, but it wasn't cold. We were talking, having a wonderful time; he was handsome; mid-length choclate colored hair that was combed back, though some of his hair had migrated infront of his face. He was wearing all black, not in the 'creepy gothic' way you would think. He was wearing a lovely leather coat, looked like he had traveled to london and back to get it, regular dress shoes, slacks, and a long-sleeve black top. I was different, much different. I was dressed in all white, though I couldn't tell exactly what I was wearing, we had on almost the same jacket: mine was white, cotton; and his, well I've already told you. I was wearing a white beret, and my hair was much different: it was long, almost down to my back and as blonde as a sun goddess; curled just slightly at the end; my glasses weren't black anymore, but a light baby blue. He smiled at me, took my hand and called me "Madaline." I responded! That wasn't my name but I responded as if I've had it for my whole life. This boy... He looked into my eyes and I could see through him, I could see into his soul. In an instant he turned, and pulled out a beautiful light blue and lime green stripped scarf, drapped it around my neck, and smiled once again. I beemed, I didn't know what to say, it was beautiful! gorgeous, even. He then took a small letter from his pocket, and handed it to me. It was a poem, entitled "My sweet Madaline."; I stopped, and looked at him, and proceeded to read: "My sweet Madaline, Though I will never be here in time, You are heaven to this tattered soul. You are a gift, that should be protected, And though we may be appart, in life: I can promise you, we will have our time, My sweet Madaline." Before I had a moment to respond, a little girl came out of the house behind us. She was about eight or so, with the same hair color hair as the young man. She looked at the scarf, then the note, and ran in side "Mommy, mommy! Why does she gets stuff and I don't!" she shouted, running inside. We both laughed. At that moment my eyes opened, my room was dark. It was about 11:00am; but when I closed my eyes, this.. dream... it continued. There was a court room, the young man was sitting in front with his lawyer, there was nobody on the stand. It seemed as though they were talking about a child that had died; Madaline. They had blamed the young man for it. The lawyer accusing him had found the poem. "My sweet Madaline" on his desk, to be honest, I don't know what was happening. I rushed into the court room, flinging open the doors and yelling "Stop!" Instantly all eyes were on me, the room fell silent as the young man looked back at me, and I knew, I just knew, he couldn't have done this. "That poem is about me! He wrote it about me!" I opened my eyes again, back to reality before turning to the otherside of my bed. Closing my eyes, I saw an older woman with two men standing on either side of her. She was holding a file, with one, small sheet of paper pulled out of it. "She's telling the truth." the woman said with a soft quiver in her voice. I saw the young man's face before my eyes opened for the final time. This is all I remember.

> Read Dream Analysis
<< Previous Page 13 Next Page >>
RSS