The Journal of FreeDragon

 I figured it out. AI is just the dream world made manifest in reality.  Nothing is ever perfect in dreams. We know this. We don't care. We rationalize "it's a dream" and move on. AI is weird. If we notice, we say, "It's AI. It always gets a few minor details wrong."  We all want to have good dreams. That's why we use AI for everything. Almost everyone dreams. If they don't, we wonder what is wrong with them. AI has become commonplace. If someone says they don't use it, or they don't like AI stuff, we wonder what is wrong with them. AI is everywhere. How could you possibly avoid it? Sometimes we have nightmares. Sometimes AI is so screwed up, so wrong, that we just can't look at it. We delete and try a different prompt. Most dreams are simply because your brain is sorting through everything it has seen during the day. AI doesn't create anything new. It scans the Internet to make art from various images.  You sometimes remember you...

  I just changed my background photo on one of my accounts. This is AI art that I created. AI is very problematic, but it is also what fuels the internet. This is a spell, written in the language that Fakebook understands. I feel it will be effective.  I've decided to change out photos every new moon. I'm a bit behind, but I didn't think of this until today. Start where you are, use what you have.  I am debating doing this across all my social media accounts. It wouldn't all be the same spell, but regular spells would probably keep things running smoothly.  Blessed be, my dears. Stay safe and well.

 I did a lot of majick yesterday.  I started with cleaning. I washed the bathroom rugs because I felt like the water they absorb might be holding negative energy. I intend to wash the bedroom rugs today. I ran out of energy yesterday.  I cleaned my husband's totem statue, reminded it of its job, and then I added a smaller totem to represent me. Now we are working together in harmony.  I reset the wards in the windows and I discovered one had taken a hit after all. That ward is a double-sided mirror with a rust stain along one edge. There was considerably more rust on the mirror. I believe it absorbed negative energy. I was actually glad to find the rust because it means my ward worked. The nightmare could have been much worse.  I cleaned my dream catcher. I am thinking about adding another to my husband's side of the bed.  I added a ward to protect our money. I started designing a business spell page. I created sigils. I started designing an art spell. I de...

 I believe something hit, and probably got past, some of my wards. I had dreams in which everyone I knew either abandoned me or betrayed me. Admittedly, I took a lot of antihistamine because I had three separate allergic reactions. The Benadryl always gives me strange dreams. But it doesn't give me nightmares. Having dreams where you are told everyone hates you is certainly a nightmare.  Since all my friends and family shunned me, I am certain this was a psychic attack. I doubt everyone I love would turn on me all at the same time. None of my wards seem damaged, knocked over, or missing. Possibly the medicine lowered my defenses, allowing something in.  This morning I was on Lemon8 and I saw a post about layering wards. It also described inner and outer wards. I have several different wards, but I have never really thought about what KIND of ward it is, nor have I really considered levels of defense. A more mundane description would be a fenced yard is the first layer of ...

 Good day, my dears. I finally got pictures of my spell pages. This isn't all of them. These are spells that I do daily to protect my life from negative energy. I intend to make more. I find it is much easier to prevent or lessen bad things, than to deal with an emergency.  First up is my rhinestone. I tried giving this to St. Anthony, but he didn't want it. This particular page doesn't have a spell yet. I may turn it into a business success spell.  This is my St. Anthony page. He is the patron saint of lost things. I pray to St. Anthony for all kinds of things. He can even find lost signals when the cable goes out during a storm.  Money spells. I intend to gradually increase the denomination of the bills. I used a dollar because that was what I had in my wallet.  Health spells. That's an eight sided mirror. 8 is for work that should last a long time. I look in the mirror and tell myself that my a1c is 7%. For tracking which sign the moon is in so I know what ki...

 My cousin took pictures from my Facebook page, then ran them through AI. She created one of my daughter and my father, who was died when I was pregnant. I didn't like that she did that because it looked nothing like my father. My husband was absolutely livid that someone altered a picture of his child without his consent.  I was wondering how she even got the pictures, as I thought everything on my account was private. I made a couple of posts public when Youngest Son ran away to do drugs because I was hoping someone would find him. Instead of just making a few posts public, this made almost all my posts public.  I spent a ridiculous amount of time editing the audience. In some cases, I had to take extra steps because people were tagged, and I had to make sure only their friends, and not the general public, could see the post. I finally figured out how to make my entire account private. I was warned that if I made all my posts private, I would have to undo that one post ...

 Life has been chaotic, thus I completely forgot to post anything on the new moon. Or first quarter. And now the moon grows full again.  My mother has been giving me pictures. I discovered that she made multiple copies of things. Pictures for relatives. Pictures for files of genealogy information. Copies so that next time she wanted to give someone pictures, she wouldn't need to have copies made. Copies so she could keep the original. Pictures that weren't that great, but it was the only picture she had of that subject, so best make a few copies just in case.  Mom is obsessing about the pictures. There's boxes, envelops, albums, pictures stacked up in piles, pictures in frames, negatives, scrapbooks, binders, and somehow, Mom appears to have saved the majority of the pictures I took in 1988. I was 11 and wanted to be a photographer. She will ask if I got them all. I will answer, and she'll ask if I got the pictures on the bookcase. I will say yes. She will ask six more ...