There was some sort of explosion. It came out and divulged itself like a starfish eviscerating itself for a meal. Except more colorful.

It was a disordered rainbow and reminded me of the old Print Shop graphic of layers of colors that slowly moved from the inside out as the computer fed the image to the printer that printed onto the paper with holes in the sides and perforations between each sheet. This is one of my favorite dreams as a kid. There are certainly more memorable ones, like the recurring one of the orange tiger chasing me around the tree in my family's backyard. That one lasted for years and it was always the same.

I used to keep a dream journal of sorts: a spiral notebook kept at my bedside that I wrote in when I awoke from a dream... whether 11:52pm, 2:28am, or whenever. Upon waking, I detailed my dreams and often drew pictures of the images in my mind's dreams (crayons were kept on the bedside table for this reason).

That practice has not been followed in years. Yet I still recall my dreams from each night's sleep every morning. And, somehow, my dreams have become so much more vivid with each year of age.

The two basic categories of dreams are realistic and non-realistic. The non-realistic ones are so damn detailed that I can recall each square inch of my adopted 8-armed monkey... the realistic ones are the ones that trick me.

My dreams are so vivid that the realistic ones are often confused with reality. I actually had to sit down in our VP's office and ask him about travel dates... I'd had a dream that he sent out an email (written in his verbiage) about us traveling to CA on April 12-16. I nearly booked that flight... then decided to check my email for the email I read in my dream... never found it. It did not exist in reality. He didn't send it.

Chewing on cords does nothing.