A long time ago, I had a dream about a volcano. That I was a volcano. I was above it-- above myself-- up in the sky, miles away, like this.

I watched it erupt, and I could feel the eruption as though I was the volcano itself; even though I was so far-removed from the actual thing.

The lava and destruction and explosion of the volcano's slopes were not what I remember as clearly about that dream as much as seeing the ash and soot and gas billowing into the sky and over the Earth, drifting on the wind and racing away, propelled by gravity, heat, and their own pressure.

And it was incredibly, incredibly noisy. The sound of it-- or what the dream imagined it ought to sound like-- seemed to echo in my head for years.

I could see that, and feel it.

And then I woke up.

Dreams sure are crazy! :0