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Dreams flow

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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 going on a journey; to where I don’t know, and found myself at the airport. Just before I presented myself to the check-in desk I felt an annoying lump on the bridge my nose; slightly to the left hand side... like a plook. So I trudged off to the nearest mirror for a look, and discovered the shocking truth. This was no pimple, zit, spot or suppuration of pus that had grown like a mountain to the surface of my skin. Nor was this a teenage bout of acne waiting to be compressed between my pinched thumb and forefinger, exuding a lava that resembled the contents of a squeezy bottle of mustard. But what was it? I had to look closer..... A miniature flower had taken root and bloomed through the surface of my earthly pore. Like a daisy gently bristling in a grassy meddow, the pollen scented aroma of summer surrounded by silken petals bloomed in colour and vibrancy. I began to pick off the petals one by one only to find hidden under each an angry wasp buzzing with rage and torment, including the Queen who sat under the petal at the top of the flower pointing north at 12 o’clock. For fear of being stung I couldn’t touch anymore and had to leave any future ‘weeding’ until after my flight. As my flight landed I found myself in Windsor and a new job. I was working for another Queen, this time Elisabeth I of Scotland and II of England. My job was to help with the smooth running of the upcoming Royal Wedding of Harry and Meghan. The job didn’t last and I soon found myself unemployed. Handing back in my Royal page-boy type uniform, consisting of plus fours, white tights, buckled shoes and a thrilly laced shirt, I returned to Mexico. Dejected, starving and struggling for cash I decided, upon advice from a friend, to become self-employed and was soon earning a pittance gift wrapping souvenirs purchased by tourists for their loved ones at home. It wasn’t enough though and my meagre earnings barely stretched to buying a plate of taco soup, rice and beans. But In a weird twist of fate my dream morphed into a strange success story – like the American dream I tweaked my business and moved it lock, stock and two smoking barrels to a gay nightclub. I was now offering a naked gift wrapping service and was rolling in the money.

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The dream began with me waking up to a text message on my phone, I wake up and scroll through the notification centre to see a text message from my instructor Ms. Maryam (Interior Design instructor at the time of the dream). The text message said, “I need to see you in my office today”. I jumped out of fear thinking why would she want to meet me after the final exam is over. To understand why she wanted to see me I open banner to check my final grades and surprisingly the final grade was not uploaded, which made me feel more anxious. I wake up and get ready immediately wondering why she wanted to meet me. I wear a blue abaya and a white scarf, and leave for the bus. I remember falling asleep as soon as I go in the bus. I wake up when we reach the university and I feel my heart beating fast. As I get down the bus and as I get closer to her office, I could feel my heart beating faster and faster. I reach near her office and see her office is open, I pray to Allah to make things easy for me, and take a minute to calm myself and knocked her door. I see Ms. Maryam looking at me in a weird way, she looked different than what she usually looks like, she had the same face but she looked shorter, and long arms. She had a pink coat with flower patterns and was wearing blue jeans. She tells me to take a seat, I felt shivers going through my spine. She asks me if I checked banner for the final grade, and I tell her I did and the grade was not uploaded yet. She looked sad and says, “it is because you didn’t get a good grade”. You received an F. She goes on to tell me about her having so much of high expectations on me and it is just not my failure, it is hers too as an instructor. I began tearing up and wake up from my dream.

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