Understand My Dreams basa"d

Dreams and in

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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.

My mother and dead father were whispering at my kitchen table. My children were trying to hear what they were saying, and I told them it was not polite to eavesdrop on Grandma and Grandpa. Then a wind blew through and my blond hair blew off my head. My son started catching my hair. It was like wisps in the wind. My dead father also caught some. I asked my son if I could have my hair back please and he handed it to me. I looked at my father and said, "This isn't right." He looked right at me and said, "No it isn't." The I reached for the hair he had caught and instead he said "I think I'll hang on to this" and smiled at me like he used to.

I had a dream that i heard the handle of my door and then a few seconds later close again. As i tried to open my eyes i had managed to make out a shadow that quickly disappeared before they shut again.The next minute i was trying to call out for my mum (knowing she was staying the night and in the next room). I couldn't get the words out though, almost like i was in shock and they were muffled. I also tried forcing myself to open my eyes, but it wasn't working - it was like they were so heavy that all my force was not strong enough. Eventually i was able to open them and sit up in my bed but there was nothing i could see. My heart was racing and i was even more fearful of falling back to sleep than i have been before even after watching scary movies. Once i did go back to sleep, my body jumped and woke to every little noise for the rest of the night.

I dreamt that i was swimming in a river with very clear water with beautiful natural surroundings the water was calm and lovely some friends swam were in front of me the river suddenly became three rivers the friends took the far right one i took the left path and they followed me i had overtaken them then later a client from ethiopia came to do a deal with me he received a notification of payment in his cellphone he was so happy he paid me a thousand rand in clean bills of r50 and r100 later i gave a hundred to my late grandmother who was walking with my living mother

It always started with a vibrant color red slowly fading into the background, like a backdrop of evil setting the scene. Around the edges and into the corners of my vision were black shadows, the darkest I had ever seen. I entered from the left, terrified beyond measure, yet determined to get what I came for; my grandparents’ release from Hell, from the bondage of Satan himself. Nana and Papo, my paternal grandparents, would enter from the right, distraught, resigned, yet, a bit hopeful. I ran to them, hugging and kissing them. I can still feel the way my grandfather’s solid middle felt against my skinny, half-grown arms. And then there was Satan. His voice boomed over us like thunder. My heart seized with panic and sank like a rock within me as terror washed over me like an ocean’s wave. For just a moment, the three of us huddled together, Nana, Papo and me. Then, after what felt like an eternity of being frozen in fear but seconds of being comforted by the warmth of their bodies, of their love, my voice found me. I freed myself from the entanglement of their arms and knew I had to do this on my own. I demanded their freedom. I asked that they be able to return with me to my home. While I do not remember the words that roared from the scoffing voice overhead, I remember that my request was denied. Nana and Papo had to stay in Hell. There was no question about it. Then, they turned and exited back from whence they had come, resigned, saddened but willing. I screamed. I screamed their names. I screamed in protest. I screamed because of the injustice. They did not belong there. They knew Jesus. And yet, it had not been enough. In that moment, He had not been enough. That’s when I would awake in a panic, crying, hardly able to breathe. Yet another thing was out of my control. Yet another injustice was being committed and I could do nothing. My voice was not being heard. My stomach was churning as was my heart.

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