The challenge - to think and record thoughts at least once every cycle of sleep/wake - does not include a requirement for quality or quantity.
Dreams and visions mate and clash with reality frequently, constantly, with no regard for consequences.
How does one listen to seven billion sets of spoken thoughts and rise up out of them with a single shared future of continuous hope repeatedly realised?
Can we separate blunder and bureaucracy from greed and intentional waste?
Hiking through mud, one sees the clear blue sky beaconing (or beckoning - take your pick).
Not everyday can one find another who is blissfully happy with the simple fact that being alive is more than enough.
One's visions, no matter how grand or ordinary, are one's own to compare to one's self-awareness.
After one's dreams become reality, what does one do with one's self?
Does one stop running after the bear has given up the chase?
After the baton is passed and the relay race of our species is well taken care of, how does one quietly slip into oblivion, happy to sit and ponder one's anonymity?
Leaves fall. The planet spins. Youth has left this body long ago. Youthfulness remains. The curiosity reigns.
Individual peace. The absence of time. The obliteration of earthly wants.
Happy with an ordinary life, cut free of the surrounding tug of threads attached to the extraordinary social expectational web.
Born with a smile on one's face, indicative of pure internal happiness, one goes along with others and their dreams/goals to reassure them they'll find the peace one was given congenitally.
One hopes everyone copes or adjusts to the gaps between happiness, reality and dreams.
Words on a page. Alive.
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