Coming back to dreams

I keep coming back to this blog... I keep visualising dreams, dreamt long ago. The synchronicity in my life and intake of information from the wider world is driving me back here, as if it were home. I didn't know where to take this but maybe all that was needed was to repeat the pattern, repeat the process and keep dreaming, to fill my soul up and continually let it spill over. But i'm not this, or that I keep telling myself, I'm not qualified, it's not worth anything? Is this a waste of time, a pretentious vanity, or an exercising of body, speech and mind? Is it tripe or truth? Is it art? Maybe, yes... I have to kick away my creative blocks that another part of me insists on shoving around, then back in front of me. Inner conflict has run riot with my self esteem, grinding it away into dust over the years, but dust can make clay and I can come through this rite of fire and seemingly forbidden passion to realise it is a worthy exercise... I am worthy of this art, I am a qualified human being set for exploration, if I only would allow myself that notion. Will I, wont I, perhaps.