Recent dreams containing ima

Image of a black dress

There is this one dream where i am always running from something. An animal or monster or some guy from a scary movie but im always running from something. But while im running i always not running fast or at least as fast as a can and most of the time im trying to run i never end up going anywhere. It’s almost like im stuck.

i dreamed of killing a grass cutter animal in the dream

animal

animals

United Steel Industries is a new Rolling Mill in Fujairah. USI is incorporated in 140,000 square meters of land. The plant will produce bar and wire rod products for civil construction. The rolling mill project was designed in 2005 by Germany’s concern SIEMENS - VAI ( SVAI ). Our mill capacity is 1.1 MTPA producing wire rods and Rebar's. United Steel Industries images

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sonhei que estava numa montanha alto saia fumaça em forma de nuvem e deparei com um homem me olhando ao me aproxima dele,ele se virou com a cabeça de lado e com o braço esticado apontando um caminho,que eu tinha que continua passei por ele e continuei a andar ,eu olhei pra trás e ele tinha sumido no meio de tantas fumaça de forma de nuvem.Ao voltar pra frente onde eu estava andando me deparei com um cachorro me aproximando cada vez mais perto percebo que o cachorro tinha uma forma diferente.Mas continuei me aproximando ao chegar perto dele se deito diante dos meus pé ,fazendo com que eu não ficasse assustada como se eu fosse dona dele,abanando seu rabo grande se virou com seus olhos pretos sem nenhum branco ,Me acenando com o rabo o caminho que tinha que continua.Cansada de tanto andar e ver tantas fumaças de forma de nuvem,eu gritei tem alguém ai nada de resposta então continuei andando,ate que avistei um homem,ao me aproxima não era o mesmo que eu tinha visto ele estava fazendo sinal com as mãos me chamando pra mim me aproxima ao chegar perto percebo que era um homem bem grande e forte com uma mascara com chifre enorme e com rabo,com suas pernas longas e tortas ele se curvou diante de mim e apontou a direção de uma cadeira enorme ao passar por ele indo na direção da cadeira fiquei encantada com sua forma dourada com uma manta vermelha,mas chegando perto tinha uma mulher muito linda ela se levantou e diante de mim se curvou e tambem apontou a cadeira,e me disse senta ela e sua .ao sentar as fumaças de forma de nuvem sumiu e o seu ficou tudo escuro e com uma lua brilhante ........ai eu acordei com o meu coração disparado isso e tudo que eu me lembro

On the first day, I'm walking along narrow path and I come to pass a Mosque where an Imam startles me. He intercepts me, placing his hand on my left shoulder. He impales my shoulder joint with his Tallon and gestures to the Qur'an he is holding. He asks me with hostility: "would you like to hear it in English or Arabic?" To which I answer: "neither" as I free myself from his grip and continue walking briskly. I sense that my audacity has angered him. I look back to gauge my safety and I see the Imam colluding with another person, talking secretly and pointing me out. This other person seems to take instruction and proceeds to follow me. I periodically look back to stay ahead and the person has morphed into the dress of a Catholic priest while having gained some ground on me. I look again and now he is a Presbyterian minister and stalking me like prey. Next glance he is Rabbi and chasing me. Every time I look back the person adorned a different religious attire, many of which were familiar from various Christian denominations I would ordinarily feel comfortable and friendly towards. I manage to stay ahead of the pursuing adversary. The next day I am walking along the same path and approaching the Mosque. I notice that the Mosque looks more like a cathedral and there are no distinguishable features that tell me it is a mosque, however there is no doubt in my mind that it is a Mosque. I become weary that I am nearly at the spot where the Imam cornered me the day earlier, so I look ahead and walk to the edge of the path in hopes to avoid him. Out of nowhere, he intercepts me and impales between my bones with his claw once again. "English or Arabic?" He hisses, as he begins pulling me towards the mosque. "Neither!" I say, as I painfully rip my flesh to get free. Again I briskly walk and am pursued by a shapeshifter. The third and final day I am walking along the narrow path. I have come to expect confrontation as a permanent obstacle. I consider crossing the road to avoid the ordeal, which would be out of my way and slow me down. Then I think to myself "why should I". Why should I make an alteration to my life and routine for such evil? Instead I march fearlessly towards the usual spot. Sure enough, he jumps out hoping to scare me, but I was expecting him. But before he can insert his claw, like a true martyr I offer my shoulder to him with arrogance and willingness to suffer the pain. This robbes him of much satisfaction as latches on. "Which will it be, English or Arabic?" He asks with malice. I look straight into his black eyes and calmly say "of that book I will hear neither, nor any other tongue".

On the first day, I'm walking along narrow path. I come to pass a Mosque where an Imam startles me. He intercepts me, placing his hand on my left shoulder. He impales my shoulder joint with his Tallon and gestures to the Qur'an he is holding. He asks me with hostility: "would you like to hear it in English or Arabic?" To which I answer: "neither" as I free myself from his grip and continue walking briskly. I sense that my audacity has angered him. I look back to gauge my safety and I see the Imam colluding with another person, talking secretly and pointing me out. This other person seems to take instruction and proceeds to follow me. I periodically look back to stay ahead and the person has morphed into the dress of a Catholic priest while having gained some ground on me. I look again and now he is a Presbyterian minister and stalking me like prey. Next glance he is Rabbi and chasing me. Every time I look back the person adorned a different religious attire, many of which were familiar from various Christian denominations I would ordinarily feel comfortable and friendly towards. I manage to stay ahead of the pursuing adversary. The next day I am walking along the same path and approaching the Mosque. I notice that the Mosque looks more like a cathedral and there are no distinguishable features that tell me it is a mosque, however there is no doubt in my mind that it is a Mosque. I become weary that I am nearly at the spot where the Imam cornered me the day earlier, so I look ahead and walk to the edge of the path in hopes to avoid him. Out of nowhere, he intercepts me and impales between my bones with his claw once again. "English or Arabic?" He hisses, as he begins pulling me towards the mosque. "Neither!" I say, as I painfully rip my flesh to get free. Again I briskly walk and am pursued by a shapeshifter. The third and final day I am walking along the narrow path. I have come to expect confrontation as a permanent obstacle. I consider crossing the road to avoid the ordeal, which would be out of my way and slow me down. Then I think to myself "why should I". Why should I make an alteration to my life and routine for such evil? Instead I march fearlessly towards the usual spot. Sure enough, he jumps out hoping to scare me, but I was expecting him. But before he can insert his claw, like a true martyr I offer my shoulder to him with arrogance and willingness to suffer the pain. This robbes him of much satisfaction as latches on. "Which will it be, English or Arabic?" He asks with malice. I look straight into his black eyes and calmly say "of that book I will hear neither, nor any other tongue".