write something nonsensical, surreal, silly. (2)

[brinny]

what of the option of posting what is straight from the heart, mind, and soul, and as such, it reverberates in ways unexpected, and challenges our inclination to stay in various boxes in resignation, waiting for the inevitable. On the other hand perhaps the inevitable has already happened. After all, the living dead do not venture forth from their boxes, do they?

 

[fleamailman]

("...all for it, but then what, I mean writing from the heart is great if one is going follow up on it storing them and then working them to see what was there by it..." replied the goblin suspecting that what brinny had written about it not being a coincidence that she was here was exactly that then, adding "...what I write in brackets is spontaneous as in an open correspondence perhaps, how if something I have written then merits rewording thus hewing into something more substantial or less ambiguous, that just becomes the next step for me..." in fact, the goblin felt quite flat tonight, while outside it seemed the sky had refused to brighten up for days on end, where admittedly the weather forecast left much to be desired)

 

[brinny]

what happens to all that you have meticulously saved and edited when your journey ends, my friend?

 

[fleamailman]

what happens to all that you have meticulously saved and edited when your journey ends, my friend?

"...at journey's end, only one's ability remains ingrained within one..." smiled the goblin, adding "...where if I had ploughed all my efforts into making money, then the ability to make money would be the one I take with me, and so, if I am put on this earth to bare witness, then sharpening my pen seems my homework now...", where the goblin understood too, that if he ever was identified that his journey would end at that point, that dailylife would trap him, medusa would gaze, and the moneygod would name his price, whereupon the goblin just repeated "...when I stop, it ends for me, from silence to silence then, yet you know who you are from what you have done to date, moreover, you know better that which you witness by you're having tried to describe it by your pen, so this pen is the one that pins down the my fleeting thoughts where when is merely whenever I guess..."

xxxx

 

[brinny]

"I have seen all the things that are done under the sun; all of them are meaningless, a chasing after the wind." ~Ecclesiastes 1:14

"Then shall the dust return to the earth as it was: and the spirit shall return unto God who gave it." ~Ecclesiastes 12:7

 

[Forge3]

We are the pens and life is our paper. And we can't always edit what we do. Though Jesus can use white out?

 

[brinny]

hahaaa yes, His grace surely is like white out, in that we are not stuck with our humongous bumbles, and brambles in our hair, skinned knees, and our temperaments at their worst for all of eternity, for which i am eternally thankful.

 

[Forge3]

He is the author of life I believe

I just hope at the end of days He does not see me and reach for the red pen

 

[brinny]

His promises are true. He never lies, and His grace supersedes ANY of our bumbles, stumblings, and faults. He IS to be trusted. When we come to Him as a little child, He DELIGHTS in us. Cuz when we come with our grown-up selves and the thinkin' and reasonin' that goes along with it, we actually think we can compete with Him or "help" Him with salvation. That's what the book of Ecclesiastes is all about. And it was written by the wisest mortal who ever lived. Solomon.

 

[fleamailman]

("...good posts, keep them coming..." went the goblin)

repost from elsewhere,

the goblin guessed that soon he would be unable to post too, that christmas food would just bury his mind completely, yes the goblin was aware of his own limits, understood the stupidity of eating like a hog, drinking like a fish and watching television like a zombie, and yet somehow christmas wouldn't be christmas without the goblin doing just that and shouting "...oh yes, I can still do it folks, just you watch me now..." only to be amazed at the depth of his own self-delusion a couple of hours later

10

 

[brinny]

Aah, aren't we all, flea, yet we are loved, still. It boggles me mind, but it be da troof.

 

[brinny]

“There is no pit so deep, that God’s love is not deeper still.” ― Corrie Ten Boom

 

[fleamailman]

repost from elsewhere, the goth site's "last post" thread

"...just be creative..." said the goblin in friendliness towards the posters adding "...ask yourself what in my life is worth posting and win with it..." then the goblin laughed "...alternatively you could just type "I win" each time...", yet somehow the goblin knew that with that "I win" post, all that one had won was the post itself, the spot then, when it was actually what one puts into the post that rewards one here, adding "...there is the philosophy and feeling behind all this, as there is things happening to you all day which pass unnoticed until you try to capture them with your pen, so where is oneself in all this dailylife I wonder...", yes, the goblin was across many many forums for his posting depending upon the pull at the time, "...an example, the affinity was death gives life it's short beauty being something that has me posting to this goth forum, whereas on the lupusbot's site because of their great courage toward their affliction and its destination, and other forums for other reason...", by now the goblin's coffee was near finished while the waitress started placing the chairs carefully on the tables, the old man in front of her was busily glued, with what vision he had left, to the magnifying glass just above the newspaper but somehow his younger brain showed behind that older exterior, yes, he was fighting his advancing age well the goblin thought, his actions were busy now, as he then went through his belongings on the table, and the goblin looked on admiring the way he was just thinking things out then, "...I mean where is the point this life if we don't notice it even..." said the goblin once more asking himself that line so what in my life is worth posting, whereupon the waitress called time, as this scene ended abruptly by it, ah but not with a mere "I win" post this time, no, with something more aware of his dailylife, that which he wouldn't have noticed otherwise

22

 

[fleamailman]

repost from elsewhere, goblin trying to give someone confidence then

"...ah no, don't care about the others and what they might think, writing is not trying to impress others anyway, where it makes no difference whether those whom you don't know here are impressed or not..." ventured the goblin again, continuing "...no, it's its continuation over its evaluation that matters most doesn't it, where hundreds of dud posts before the one that meets one's benchmark makes anything prior worth it, whereas, conversely too, if it turned out to be a "perfect post" that you felt you could match after that, then that "perfect post" was nothing but a useless hindrance to you...", simply the goblin was equating "posting" to being something like a "journey" here, where each individual post was a step along the way so to speak, where somehow the goblin knew that what people got to read were mere footprints then, left by an author of a chase by his pen and an elusive mercurial creature that never truly got pinned down anyway, so its the journey itself, and not those mere footprints now, that matters most here

107

 

[fleamailman]

repost from elsewhere,

I'm gone for like a month and I don't even get a single message or ANYTHING! I don't feel loved anymore!!

the goblin loved posts, saying "...well, if you wish us to miss you, then be elsewhere, ah but if you want us to love you, be here for that love you seek from us then..."

63

 

[brinny]

hahaaa sounds a bit like a ummm, yeah, a carrot dangling on a string, flea.

 

[fleamailman]

repost from elsewhere

as if slowly readying his make-up seated in front of a theatre mirror the goblin feels himself as backstage looking across from his now neatly arranged props of this dressing room "...on in five minutes goblin..." calls the imaginary voice from the other side of the door, "...thanks..." he shouts back brushing off the anxiety and impatience that always builds up in those moments before he goes up onto the stage, so the goblin just checks through the lines while roll playing the piece over and over in his mind and then calmly walks into everyone's view, "...humans, tonight this thread is mine and I will carry you away..." he promises them but the result is never certain he knew, "...ah but not knowing is what makes this posting so alive..." he whispered

20 76http://www.christianforums.com/misc.php?do=whoposted&t=7708471 574

 

[fleamailman]

repost from elsewhere

the goblin often felt the truth of it was that each post was dead by the time it got posted, saying "...no, the bit that is alive is when there's an open slot and every possible choice to choose from...", often enough, what the goblin had written had come from a surge of inspiration, where it was this surge moment then, that the goblin so loved in forging his ideas into texts, continuing "...and then, at some later point perhaps, one comes across a picture that seems to mirror the text in vindication even, and adding the picture to its text the post becomes complete and ready to be set adrift upon forumland, dead and forgotten by its poster...", just something the goblin did habitually then, simply he did all this to forget all this where none of this actually mattered as the posts themselves were externals, ever beyond his control now, and yet the persona that resulted from the practice of posting was not an external at all, ah no, for this would mould a goblin true to form

20

 

[brinny]

It's about love. Simple as that. Nothing else matters. Nothing.

Sweet Mama Dog Interacting with a Beautiful Child with Down Syndrome - YouTube

 

[fleamailman]

("...loved that one then, keep them coming, and let's see where it goes by it..." mentioned the goblin)

repost from elsewhere

i've been working through some emotional issues tonight, sat on the floor with some drink and i'm not sure work is the best idea tomorrow, especially at 7:00am!!

while the goblin for his part was thinking that he could just die at any moment now, and with that thought in mind, was wondering why he had to cling to so much social trappings and financial trinkets, saying "...surely if I start depending on those things outside myself for my own happiness or well-being here, one is just becoming subject to them, little better than some addict perhaps, someone weak and short-sighted towards one's life for sure, so render unto cearsar but never surrender unto him, slowly one has to figure out why one is not what one has..."

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