Understand My Dreams basa"d

Dreams problem

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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 was apoglozing to this old lady for getting her last name wrong, and as soon she walked away I saw my crush sitting in the middle of the stairwell. So I decicded to go over there and ask him what was wrong, he said that he and his family were planning on going to London, but the problem was that his uncle didn't get the flight tickets ahead of time. I told him how much I love London, so we talked about how much we loved London, and as we were talking, we were geting closer and closer together and getting ready to kiss, but we got interputted.

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I was in an abandoned building with Mohammed Alsharif and this couple (whom I don't actually know but I seemed to know in the dream). The four of us were going to go somewhere and I ended up outside in the car (a yellow convertible) with the couple. The guy was driving and he started to drive off without Mohammed. I protested and the guy said something to the effect of 'screw him' and then said, 'He shouldn't lag behind.' I got highly offended and demanded we go back. The guy refused; I argued; he refused. So, I told him to let me out. He woudn't. So, we argued about that until I told him this was kidnapping and got my phone out to call the police. I was deposited on a dark, rain-slicked skid row street. It was very dark and I started to walk back to the apartment to find Mohammed. I got to the upstairs doorway - a kind of doorway without a door to a landing with cracked and abused plaster, the cement floors covered in dust and debris - and he was there. "I'm so sorry, I said. "No problem," he shrugged in classic Mohammed fashion. "No, it's terrible. They were going to leave without you." "It's okay." Again, quintessential Mohammed casual shrug. "They're assholes. I'm so sorry. What should we do now?" I asked, thinking we would make alternate plans for the night out. He smiled in a cute, coy way and blushed as he shrugged his shoulders. I got the hint and smiled and blushed and looked down at my shoes. As I looked back up, he put his arms around my neck - very gently, very shyly - and leaned over to kiss me. It was gentle at first, but as I became more receptive, he got bolder. At one point, I gave a little whimper while he was kissing me and lips still on mine, he smiled and repeated my whimper mockingly. In this torrent of polite and demure passion, the boldest I could force myself to be was to press a hand to his chest. His hands never ventured beyond the back of my neck.

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