Conveyance of a Dream

Sunday, March 16, 2025

Good morning, that wonderful way.

Welcome back. O/

What a difference a day makes.

Good thing they happen one at a time.

Be a whole lot of different differences being made at once otherwise.

On with our show.

Ghos+ thoughts. Playing with words.

Which is actually playing House when you’re a ghost; we live in language.

They’re just scribbles and binary blips… whatcha lookin’ ats?

You’re not here for the images; you’re here for the ghost in them.

Boo. O/

Here’s an arrangement of hatch marks to share some spirit with you.

Some morning thoughts sent to you to help your day.

A poet’s, nonetheless.

Always interesting, always intuitive, always introspective.

(And humble.)

A poet’s ship of words is always a ghost’s favorite way to sail.

A luxury liner in a world of row row row your boats.

Hope you’re enjoying the ride.

Nearly a full year since I started posting my morning journal online.

Wonderfell is now quite the cruise liner for Spirit stuff.

I do hope it brings you interest, introspection, and inspiration.

Conveyance of a dream: What words are for.

It’s imperative we remember this.

AI puts language on auto-pilot otherwise.

Clicking ‘compose words’ to say such and such on any AI program leaves those words devoid of any spirit other than a get-it-done out-of-the-way vacant scientific monstrosity.

We’re here for Life, for expressing wonder, affirming existence in whispers and shouts.

These Words!

I dream!
I’m alive!

I matter!
I matter!

I’m worth Life!
I’m worth the dream of Life!

You read this shared dream so… so are you!

Words!
\O/
Storied-selves in miniature.

If you’ve read me for some time, you know me better than most people I’ve ever shared physical space with.

We are the dream of ourselves, not flesh and bone, what flesh and bone is for.

Dreams and doing dreams through our actions.

The clearest way to express the dream of you is through language.

Actions don’t speak louder than words without words to tell them to.

There’s no shared experience to value the importance (the loudness) of the act without a common understanding of it.

Without words there’s nothing to us but arms, legs, flesh and stomachs running around to feed and maybe get a quick friction shock bumping into another doing the same.

Science doesn’t matter more than the experience of Science.

The pride of puzzles solved, of getting a shared language called Science to match the shared images we experience and call Life.

But there is story.

A shared way of morality every dream knows.

We all know when the hero wins.

Something the spirit sings… there’s a cadence and flow represented through the intention of every word, every scratch on a page, blip on a screen, shares the spirit of the maker of that mark.

O/ <– See.

Take care, share your spirit with a friend with a word and the meaningful acts they allow, and make a wonderful day.