write something nonsensical, surreal, silly.

[brinny]

Wondrous? How so, my friend?

 

[fleamailman]

("...what lies within is wondrous beyond words..." repeated the goblin, adding "...and besides, I don't want to give it a name that then boxes it into the corner...")

repost from elsewhere

You have almost won, but not quite yet." Came the sly voice, the man wearing the bowler billy**** hat sitting at a chair, his legs propped on a table as he observed the goblin remember past speeches he had made. His mask of ice remained solid, cold, and unyielding. When he spoke, the thread, which had been a monotone nearly giving in to the last contestant propped up in a narrow hope of competition. The window was blown ajar by a gust of wintry air, despite the changing of the seasons.

"...then I, like you, am still winning this unwinnable here..." replied the grateful goblin once more against the gray morning of his dailylife, while outside, down in the street below and beyond perhaps, the workings of dailylife just hinged ever upon some blind acceptance of selling oneself within its perpetuation, "...ah, but my pen alone is mine throughout, where it only jabs at those who would sleep on amongst us whereas for those who would post on here, it merely parries like a stick in some late summer's morris dance, so let's dance once more while we still can..."

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[fleamailman]

repost from elsewhere

"...most of human interaction, and resulting conversation, is just saying that which is expected of one so that one can get back to more important things like daydreaming or reasoning other things in the back of one's mind..." mentioned the goblin, adding "...so why challenge, thus becoming ostracised in doing so, any expected norm where one can remain hidden in full view by playing the expected part and by saying the right words too, where perhaps 99% of one's whole life slips under the attention radar like this, and where 1% is actually retained in some memory form through some aroused emotional awareness towards it, sighing "...so perhaps too, one lives a life that one mostly forgets..."

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[brinny]

("...what lies within is wondrous beyond words..." repeated the goblin, adding "...and besides, I don't want to give it a name that then boxes it into the corner...")

repost from elsewhere

"...then I, like you, am still winning this unwinnable here..." replied the grateful goblin once more against the gray morning of his dailylife, while outside, down in the street below and beyond perhaps, the workings of dailylife just hinged ever upon some blind acceptance of selling oneself within its perpetuation, "...ah, but my pen alone is mine throughout, where it only jabs at those who would sleep on amongst us whereas for those who would post on here, it merely parries like a stick in some late summer's morris dance, so let's dance once more while we still can..."

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Ever heard of the book "A Child Called It"? Based on a man's true story. He was treated as an "it" from a small boy and robbed of any semblance of being recognized as a human being. There was no rhyme or reason to it. He was just targeted as all manner of atrocities barraged him, finding his hiding places, although there was no place to hide. He was always found and then the senseless cruelties against him intensified. Remarkably he survived, his sanity in tact, with compassion and a mission to speak up for those who cannot speak up for or defend themselves. There are those who cleave to their name like a raft in a raging sea perhaps in order to remember they are a human being, regardless of how others relentlessly attempt to define them. Just as in a line from the movie 'Elizabeth", being snatched away by guards, while falsely charged with treason, her friend whispered to her "Remember who you are." It's all in one's perspective isn't it?

 

[brinny]

repost from elsewhere

"...most of human interaction, and resulting conversation, is just saying that which is expected of one so that one can get back to more important things like daydreaming or reasoning other things in the back of one's mind..." mentioned the goblin, adding "...so why challenge, thus becoming ostracised in doing so, any expected norm where one can remain hidden in full view by playing the expected part and by saying the right words too, where perhaps 99% of one's whole life slips under the attention radar like this, and where 1% is actually retained in some memory form through some aroused emotional awareness towards it, sighing "...so perhaps too, one lives a life that one mostly forgets..."

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Yes it is quite a brave thing, to step out when one's knees are shakin', takin' a risk, venturing into the unknown....lookin' fear square in the eye....not backing down.....some say it's as necessary as breathing, cuz when we don't do so we're not really living anyway. As Eleanor Roosevelt once said "You must do the thing you think you cannot do."

 

[fleamailman]

repost from elsewhere, an american "last post" thread

the goblin thanked the posters for their attempt to covert the inevitable course of things, and sympathized deeply, but alas, time had given the last post once more back to its rightful goblin, who loved this thread because no matter how his own fortunes changed, here at least, he, like anyone else, could win just by posting in spite of whatever, but he reminded himself that this, like any other post, might well be his very last one, so he always wanted to post something he would like to read later, even if in fact he wouldn't be able to read it, being no longer in this world that is, saying "...anyway we goblins are silly about leaving pretty footprints upon the snowy path of life..." continuing "...just more snow will fall over them and all will be forgotten shortly, but here at least we tread on down upon this thread together now, might as well make the most of it while we still can..."

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[fleamailman]

repost from elsewhere

"...one is always swimming in dailylife, so the real question is whether one can keep one's head above water long enough to avoid being brainwashed by them into thinking that one's dailylife is everything thus drowning outright..." ventured the goblin, adding "...no, simply here one faces a little slot, where it doesn't need to be any particular thread then, just as long as one actually knows, that this is part of one's journey to self here, simply that whenever one is writing stuff out of oneself within these posts, it's probably something that keeps one's reason afloat..."

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[brinny]

that's one way of looking at it my friend.

 

[fleamailman]

repost from elsewhere, again

Have you thought about writing a book fleamailman? Or a screenplay? You sound, like you should definitely be a writer. And even though you may not want to do it for fame or fortune, you could do it so everyone out there could read your writing. Talented people need to be unleashed on the world, otherwise we will be stuck with people like Madonna writing books, and that's never a good thing!

the goblin smiled once more looking out across the bright snow to the mountains beyond, "...and what, may I ask, do you think all this then, that we are writing together here, if not some live shared book of sorts, with each one of us intricately woven within its sprawling pages..." mentioned the goblin now, adding "...simply the times, perhaps with the advancement of technology here, have once more returned writing to something like those short episodes found perhaps in victorian journals where dickens and doyle held the reader's imagination in the palm of their hands...", the goblin paused knowing that there was something more, and tried for it here, relating "...look again, do you not notice that the actual distance between the persona, the piece, and the response has gone, simply they're all just one and the same, so one doesn't humbly submit something for appraisal and approval any more, one posts it directly, and then one becomes what one has posted by it...", the goblin's coffee tasted deep now, unpleasant even, it's sweet bitterness held him tightly to the point he had just made, and how clearly he saw it too, continuing "...frankly more people are interacting on forumland here than if any one of us were to go cap in hand to some puffed up publisher somewhere for their ever declining readership now, for isn't the truth that those medias, publishing included, are losing market share to our internet, so this online ongoing trend is upon us now, and that's why too, I keep forgiving those old dorks who ban me from their writer's forums and who adhere to their hallowed gospel of appropriate penmanship for ever so correct writers, for I'm just a livewriter here, posting with you within this live element of forumland just as you are doing too, moreover, what can be more published than this then, and to what wider audience in the long run than forumland now, oh unless you mean facebook, but facebook goers wouldn't even read this far, nah my writing addiction is bad yes but not quite that desperate, besides, facebook is for those with a face where I have no face, no I just write instead..."

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[fleamailman]

repost from elsewhere

"...somewhat quiet on the posting front of late..." mentioned the goblin who knew too, that it was up to him to choose between living one's life as a wolf or letting one's life live one like a sheep, where simply he felt he had to avoid two traps here, one of drowning in preoccupations of dailylife without appropriate reflection upon it, and the other of just tagging threads here to show solidarity towards those whom one didn't even know, saying "...one can't post everywhere, so one has to post to where it is worth it, also one can't post everything too, so one has to post to a benchmark of self, so perhaps the real question here is what is an aware wolf, as opposed to the blind sheep then, in a life where the end is just the same for both of those creatures..."

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[fleamailman]

repost from elsewhere server support forum

Fleamailman... I don't understand half of the things you ever say. But you are awesome. Just sayin'.

"...whoops sorry, I was being intellectual there, got carried away again, my bad perhaps..." replied the goblin somehow forgetting that most people upon the forums of this server were either diehard gamers or long dead mommies, adding "...no, what I need to do is to come up with posts that accommodate both types of posters now, perhaps writing about some kick-a*rse cut-throat housewife that can choose between hurling fragmentation fruit jars, or stung grenade soap-powder packs across a detailed supermarket map, together with hacks to extra lifepoints and credits on purchases then...", yes, in fact, the goblin would do anything to be more accommodating to the reader's tastes here

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[fleamailman]

repost from elsewhere,

"...it's not too difficult to understand here goblin..." went the witchdoctor now, while the goblin listened in wondering what the fuss was about, so the witchdoctor continued "...well, suppose the foxes first make umpteen credit-dubious property loans to the sheep at a profit, where the foxes then bundle those loans together as a marketable seemingly profitable product called a bond, which as bonds they then sell them to the wallstreet wolves at a profit, which, once those wolves realize the nature of the ruse, join in on the scam by actually giving those same bonds triple a credit worthiness, letting the foxes resell them again at a profit as add'on bonds, something now guaranteed by AIG insurance cow here. knowing full well that the cow couldn't possibly both pay up upon default and remain solvant as well, knowing too, who the cow would have to turn to, goblin, guess who then...", more asking to see if the following than really expecting an answer here, surprisingly enough the goblin replied correctly, saying "...the king of the animals, our duly elected president lionking...", "...quite right goblin, the lionking's prowess is at stake here, moreover the kingdom can't be allowed to default now, he must save the cow and his kingdom too, so he goes back to the creditor of best and last resort, yes none other than tax paying sheep again, and has them foot the bill, with the fox, the wolves, and cow too, all cheering him on for his timely expedience in saving their skins here, where the sheep I imagine are only too happy to have the animal kingdom returned to its happily ever after status again..."

138

 

[brinny]

repost from elsewhere

"...somewhat quiet on the posting front of late..." mentioned the goblin who knew too, that it was up to him to choose between living one's life as a wolf or letting one's life live one like a sheep, where simply he felt he had to avoid two traps here, one of drowning in preoccupations of dailylife without appropriate reflection upon it, and the other of just tagging threads here to show solidarity towards those whom one didn't even know, saying "...one can't post everywhere, so one has to post to where it is worth it, also one can't post everything too, so one has to post to a benchmark of self, so perhaps the real question here is what is an aware wolf, as opposed to the blind sheep then, in a life where the end is just the same for both of those creatures..."

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Odd, those choices....*brinny ponders why a third is not even considered...* is it sooooo invisible? Nonexistent? Yet it's there, for there it is, sparkling waaaay over there....perhaps it must be sought in order to be seen. Sooooo many never do. Ever.

Yet, brinny remembers her friend's mention of a search.....then wonders if her friend stopped searching....

 

[fleamailman]

("...ah no, the search only ends at self, the arrival at self marks the beginning of what lies beyond..." replied the goblin, liking the picture for the way it vindicated brinny's stance, adding "...um, and perhaps it would sound too morbid if I called it a journey to death then, where journey to self sounds better...")

repost from elsewhere

My comment was about untimely death, as the last year ended with that and sadly the new one began with that too. Which gave me cause to remember other untimely deaths, of lives cut short.............

the goblin just repeated "...funny, how often it turns into some a trade-off then, that is, of some newfound sad awareness replacing one's previous hazy happiness here, and how one wishes it just to be otherwise too, and feels somehow cheated in the exchange then, only that it has happened and one is so awake by it, aware then, simply reminded that this life owes one nothing here, it never owed one anything anyway.."

 

[brinny]

it IS a cheat and of the utmost kind, isn't it? brinny ponders...there's a force out there and all around that keeps it hidden, this thing called truth...desperately hiding it, lest it be found by those willing to search for it.....confounding li'l coward goes and hides it....always was a jokester with all intents of malice of the most malicious kind....

 

[brinny]

repost from elsewhere server support forum

Fleamailman... I don't understand half of the things you ever say. But you are awesome. Just sayin'.

"...whoops sorry, I was being intellectual there, got carried away again, my bad perhaps..." replied the goblin somehow forgetting that most people upon the forums of this server were either diehard gamers or long dead mommies, adding "...no, what I need to do is to come up with posts that accommodate both types of posters now, perhaps writing about some kick-a*rse cut-throat housewife that can choose between hurling fragmentation fruit jars, or stung grenade soap-powder packs across a detailed supermarket map, together with hacks to extra lifepoints and credits on purchases then...", yes, in fact, the goblin would do anything to be more accommodating to the reader's tastes here

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This --->

Fleamailman... I don't understand half of the things you ever say. But you are awesome. Just sayin'.

a gift was just given to my friend from a heart unfettered, and yet not reciprocated but seemingly misunderstood.....

 

[fleamailman]

("...the journey is one we share now..." replied the goblin, adding "...yet it's not a profession, not something that divides one from others in terms of denomination, no it's just continues within one whether one admits it or not, believes it or not, simply one's journeys through this life with each passing day is this obvious external here but what lies within is waiting for your pen brinny, where the one who has given you this gift is not me at all...")

repost from elsewhere

"...what it's to be ceasar, sand or grain then..." remarked the goblin aloud to himself actually, surprisingly ceasar's voice from the back of the goblin's minds had quickly answered "...oh just get sand goblin, the plebs can survive this famine if they're distracted enough, besides what good is their bread to them without some circus to go with it...", and somehow, on hearing that, nothing seemed changed, rome was still "bread and circus", where sand for the arena took priority over grain for bread, "...so goblin..." ceasar asked back "...think anything has changed since my day then...", "...well not really ceasar, though these days it's called "media coverage" but it's sand all the same..."

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[brinny]

perhaps the sharing is perceived differently then, my friend, as well as the journey...whether it be to a finite-like brief-and-as-fleeting as dust in the wind or something else that supersedes temporal-ness....both beg to be pondered on...in depth

 

[brinny]

even as the very small forlorn soul that i was the night sky spoke to me of One greater than i and greater still than the grotesqueness of the psyches all around me. A Being Who left fingerprints all over the sky...a Designer of sorts Who without audible words could speak to and reach my shattered soul. Whose silence was more powerful than the un-lovely intrusive murmurings permeating the very atmosphere of that cursed place. It was the Maker of the stars Himself. He stilled the storm, calmed the raging sea and lifted my feet from a mired claptrap of a quick-sinking sand pit. To my soul, akin to a spooked horse, He spoke as only a Soul-Whisperer could do, as He shed His Light, dispersing the darkness and replacing it with His promise of a future and a hope, as the lies scattered into the nether regions from which they came.

 

[fleamailman]

repost from elsewhere

why bother writing

"...then for ones "journey to self" then..." replied the goblin "...for even ones greatest effort cannot hold back the snow that will cover our tracks here, oh, those tracks are left to providence perhaps, but there's no guaranty that providence will wish to keep them however perfect they may be now..." the goblin stopped, reflected, and then added "...no, one writes for oneself here, as oneself then...", simply, the goblin, from being anonymous, somehow understood that all his posts were in effect dead by the time he hit the "post" button, but his "journey to self' remained, and that alone here, for all his posting or not, remained constant throughout

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