Understand My Dreams basa"d

Dreams son

Found 1,768 dreams containing son - Page 56


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.

D’ailleurs, l’heure est aux répétitions, notamment pour les candidats des années précédentes, qui vont devoir redoubler d’efforts pour se remettre à niveau. A cette occasion, a retrouvé pour son plus grand plaisir son ancien complice et partenaire, Christian Millette, et a immortalisé leurs retrouvailles via les réseaux sociaux d’un petit message : "Souvenirs souvenirs !!! Retour à l'entra?nement pour la tournée avec mon Christian Millette". Ensemble, ils avaient gravi les échelons de la compétition, avant d’être éliminés aux portes de la finale, à leur grande déception. tn requin

My neighbors, jim (the man that build the 3rd floor) and his son john rang my doorbell and i opened the door. and john started crying and my stomach dropped. i said whats wrong. he said “helen died” and started crying. so then i did too. and i asked how and she fell out of a window (kinda funny now) and it was unexpected because she’s a kid. so then i somehow rewrote my entire speech. and i was giving it again in class. and suddenly i was reading a part about how helen died. but my speech is about sleep, not about death. so then i started stuttering and i asked my teacher if i could try again. i did and messed up. then i asked to sit down and practice for another day and explained that i didn’t know why i had that part of the speech in there. then i woke up and didn’t remember if helen was dead or not. because i thought my second dream was a dream and the helen part wasn’t

I had a dream that my son was kidnapped and I lost everything. I was walking down the street through an apartment. Someone offered help and let me use their phone. When I called my stolen phone I found the person that answered. Her sister stole my son. I tracked them down to a hotel, where I beat my sons location out of her. He was at the pool, but when I went to get him, he was gone and they tried to sneak out the back door. My son was successfully snuck out, but I caught the lady that stole my son and pulled a gun on her. Then I woke up.

Voilà Monsieur pourquoi votre fille est malade... (à ce niveau elle n'est même plus très vivante)...Au départ journal contestataire... Quasi anarchiste. Des intellectuels de gauche . Puis virage commercial pour survivre... des initiatives socio culturelles comme les célèbres petites annonces de Libé .. Des articles culturels, et de moins en moins scientifiques. Comme Alain Duhamel, de moins en moins percutant. De moins en moins de scoops. dernièrement laisse Le Monde se farcir la corvée du scoop des attaques chimiques en Syrie. la Syrie, la grande absente des colonnes de Libé. Incapable de lire l'Histoire en train de se détruire au proche Orient. Par désintérêt? Libé devenu un Cloud, un terminal des téléscripteurs et dépêches des reporters de terrain. Mais surtout pas à l'initiative journalistique. De la Pub mensonge "Libé vous étonne"... Un journal de confort, il ne faut pas déranger les Fran?ais. On ouvre les commentaires et les basses oeuvres défilent. Merci tout de même de ne pas limiter le nombre de mots des commentaires, Le Monde oblige à être concis et donc censure... Merci à M.Alain Duhamel, même si sa prose et son discours ne sont plus percutants et se fait même moucher trop facilement par les UMP, mais il a réussi à nous éviter les commentaires les plus vulgaires, parmi ces commentaires, ce qui finalement est le plus important. Notre temps est celui du vulgaire, du facile, du clinquant, du cri-insulte, du fric trop vite gagné, de l'indifférence à la douleur d'autrui, il parait même que quand la douleur est trop grande, le cri ne sort plus... Silence.

My neighbors, jim (the man that build the 3rd floor) and his son john rang my doorbell and i opened the door. and john started crying and my stomach dropped. i said whats wrong. he said “helen died” and started crying. so then i did too. and i asked how and she fell out of a window (kinda funny now) and it was unexpected because she’s a kid. so then i somehow rewrote my entire speech. and i was giving it again in class. and suddenly i was reading a part about how helen died. but my speech is about sleep, not about death. so then i started stuttering and i asked my teacher if i could try again. i did and messed up. then i asked to sit down and practice for another day and explained that i didn’t know why i had that part of the speech in there. then i woke up and didn’t remember if helen was dead or not. because i thought my second dream was a dream and the helen part wasn’t

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