Understand My Dreams basa"d

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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.

I had a dream that it was 6th pd and for some reason Jake was in our class. Im not sure what started it but he started saying extremely offensive things insulting homosexuals and he would not shut up. Throughout the whole thing i couldn't speak no matter how much anger had built up. The thing was no one spoke up until i noticed Chris made this face of like I had enough of your shit stood up , walked over to jake who was right next to me and asked him Why do you hate them so much? What did they do to you? Is it cause you're brainwashed by religion that you're like this? Then jake got pissed and insulted Chris so Chris pushed him back. Then suddenly jake tried to punch him and i had stood up and stopped him from punching Chris. I did that twice throughout the confrontation. Finally it ended and towards the end of class Chris came over and hugged me as a thank you.

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Well, I was in a spinning jagged metal room and there was a huge snake type thing made of razorblades that I had to leap around and avoid while brandishing knives. Once done with this, I left the room which turned out to be the upstairs bathroom and had a discussion with superman who was in the washing basket about how he was totally bipolar. Then went downstairs and turns out mum and John have left town and I'm being babysat by an evil villain in a wheelchair who informs me that I must do the evil metal room every day for 5 hours until they come back. When he goes shopping I inform the neighbour who is actually a cleaner from nestonhigh that I'm escaping, I'm then chased across a field by wheelchair dude and the neighbour, but they're faster despite the fact he's in a wheelchair, I escape over a fence, something about chickens.

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I dreamt that my husband was receiving oral sex from another man, in our sitting room. There was also another naked man next to them. While this was happening, in the dream I was fully aware of what was happening and casually washing the dishes, and glancing at my husband in the act. In the dream, my husband watched me in a casual yet inviting manner, as if all was well! My husband was very much enjoying himself and was waiting for me to participate? What does this mean?

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I was dreaming a lot of things in one dream. There was a lot of discontinuity. First, I was at my college, waiting to have some exam. Then, There was a boat crash, and a chopper fell onto the beach. And i was in a small watercraft and I passed a fish that was cought by the boat that crashed, and by passing it, I passed through the cord that was holding the fish. Second thing, I am a maidservent to a wealthy family living on that beach, I am looking over the youngest son, while in love with the oldest(who is my real life crush). And I am always with the crush, chasing him, to be around him. But he likes me. And helps me. Then, he makes a wound with a knife on my palms, because I need to disinfect my palms, and I am rubbing my bloody palms like I am washing them. And he is with me.

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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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