Ideas aren't the problem.
Knowing what to do with them, if anything, is.
Sometimes the stories fly through my thoughts so fast that I can't possibly write them down. Like the Star Trek episode "The City on the Edge of Forever", they fly by so fast and, lacking a tricorder to record and save the information for later retrieval, they are usually lost.
I console myself by saying that maybe those flashes of 'inspiration' were meant only for me as a gift from God telling me that He is mindful of me. I am not sure that is true, but not having a complete playbook for this life I am living, it will have to do until greater knowledge and understanding distill upon me through my life experiences.
Other times, I take the ideas that come and put them down in terms that for me are so vivid, I can taste the cotton candy and feel the cool breeze across my skin all these years and miles later.
I see in Technicolor. I don't know if that is normal for anyone else since I don't inhabit either their life or their body. But for me, that is both a blessing and a curse. When my dreams and thoughts are pleasant, that sensation of seeing things in real world hues is amazing. But when the nightmares come, that wonderful palate of color and brilliance takes on an ugly quality that renders the scary into the terrifying in simple brushstrokes of fear.
Sometimes, I can recall enough detail to write it down and scare someone else. Other times, the horrible images are my own private horror movie that replays in my head until I pray it away.
Do others share that same relationship with daylight and darkness within the world of their dreams? I don't know.
But I do know that there are times that what I see is more than just a dream.
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