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Dreams aboriginal

Found 6 dreams containing aboriginal


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So i had a dream about me and a friend (I don’t remember the friend) being stabbed by an aboriginal woman. We were waiting at a train station, and an aboriginal woman approached and asked for a cigarette.. just as I pulled out the tin I keep cigarettes in, she popped out a knife (you know how you have the knives that flick out with a button), and then began to stab my mate first, then me. She stabbed me atleast 10 times, each stab I felt.. The piercing of the skin, the tenderness of my muscle and organs as she pushed the knife deeper into my body. I felt the cold blade. (This knife blade was atleast 20cm long, about 5cm wide, .5cm thick). I felt her pull it out and go for another stab. It was in slow motion, but also in real time. After she had finishing stabbing me and my friend, I left my friend to deal with their own wounds, I don’t even think I called an ambulance. I just walked away. After I had started walked away I started feeling around for where I had been stabbed. Below my collarbone, multiple stabs to my abdomen, along with ones piercing either side of above my hipbones. I had found a quiet place to sit, and I began to open the wounds and look inside, sticking my fingers in to open the wound as far as I could. I think I tore a few wounds open further aswell. I kept fiddling around inside, feeling what I could feel with my fingers. I was drenched in blood. I then passed out. Then I woke up, in panic. I freaked out and rubbed my hands all over my body, wondering if it was all true. I checked under my collarbone and I looked and nothing was there..

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I had a dream last night. I was on board a commercial flight with friends from my previous holiday (we never used planes on that holiday I may add). There were two simultaneous flights. We were on board one aeroplane and another, headed to the same destination was flying slightly ahead of us. From the window I occasionally caught a glimpse of the other plane. At the time of the crash, we were passing over some very tropical and beautiful scene below; there were many locals, possibly African, sailing in tiny boats and fishing and generally bustling around on the coast. As I looked from the window I could see a vast plethora of coloured sails, umbrellas and people wearing fantastically coloured clothes. It was beautiful. Shortly after, a message came over the speaker system that we would be dropping altitude dramatically, in order to overtake the other plane, as our pilot thought they were travelling too slowly and the best way for us to pick up speed in order to pass the plane was to manage a controlled drop from altitude whilst turning. All the passengers and I had full confidence in the pilot and suffered no anxiety. As we lowered towards the beautiful coastal scene I was amazed by the perfect curvature of the earth that I could see, the sea seemed to bend on the horizon. I spoke to my friend next to me, a passenger called Pete from Singapore. He told me much about the locals below and I admired his knowledge, however the details of this conversation escape me. Soon after, another message came over the intercom, it was the pilot. He was very happy, almost boastful, about how well he had done in passing the other plane, and that now we could continue with great speed on to our destination (I don’t actually know where we were headed). The pilot then added that he was now going to regain the appropriate altitude for the flight and therefore a dramatic climb was imminent. The nose of the plane rose to an almost vertical ascent. So much so that I adjusted myself on my seat so that my backside as, in fact, on the headrest of my chair. Other people stayed as they were, seated as though they were in the carriage of a climbing rollercoaster. This is a thought which occurred to me in the dream, it actually felt like we were on a rollercoaster. Despite this everybody was calm. I had a mild disquiet in my stomach however and my trust in the pilot had diminished somewhat. I saw him as an arrogant show-off, was any of this necessary? A short while later, the plane began to stall and fall from the sky. We crashed into the ocean not far from the coast. Things went black for a short moment and there was the feeling of a powerful impact. When vision was restored however, everyone around me was fine, except I had a terrible dread feeling that people somewhere must have lost their lives, and that myself and my neighbours were very lucky to be unharmed. We all quite calmly unbuckled ourselves from the seats and proceeded to force open the door and slide down the escape chutes in a very orderly fashion. We were introduced to the warm tropical ocean for the first time. I paused at the exit and was surprised to see everybody wearing life jackets. I asked the stewardess where they were kept and she claimed not to know. I checked under my seat and found nothing. Nevertheless, I slid down into the sea. The water was warm and calm; the plane wreckage seemed to disappear instantly. Me and my friends swam calmly towards the shore. That beautiful and colourful scene. We were met part way by local fisherman similarly swimming in the water. They had the look of aboriginal or tribal denizens yet were polite and spoke good English, we exchanged greetings and nothing more as we headed to the beach. Upon reaching the sandy shore I remember seeing coins buried under a light covering of sand. I bent down and inspected further. I discovered that the coins were English pennies, all different types. Upon this discovery I was filled with a terrible feeling that the second plane had crashed too, and that must be how these coins arrived upon the beach. I felt, or feared that, everybody on the second plane had died in the crash. It was at this moment that I woke up.

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Walking to my friends at around 9pm seeing this old aboriginal woman with a short pastel pink afro Dunkley stumbling around trying to avoid her getting inside the house and looking at text messages from my mum on an old boxy tv walking home seeing this old lady dead in a trolley with longneck vbs surrounding her me and my friend walk up the hill to see a family of 1 mother father a son and a daughter the classic fat tourists with wide brimmed hats long shorts a the son is taking photos of this lady while the dad is holding a long neck vb the vide is very dark i can hear eary music playing in the background we are walking home and this family is slowly waddling behind us following us i am holding my friend very tightly as we walk down this dark alleyway they family turn into a family of armish ppl and every time i look back at them they get closer till the father is right behind me and i wake up

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