write something nonsensical, surreal, silly.

[fleamailman]

("...thank you for giving me something to think upon..." went the goblin thanking the Questor now, "...powerful poem that one too..." went the goblin thinking that the picture of in the post about the man who died young would work equally well for your poem then, adding "...I would like you to become known by your poems and persona, you see it only takes time and a constant output to gain a readership across forumland, moreover the publishing world is coming here because increasingly here is where the readers are, why, because no one seems to have the time to read at length, no they won't admit it openly but one hardly see anyone reading a book these days, instead they're all typing away now...")

repost from elsewhere, written in winter

"...why thank you my good human, if I may so bold as to call you one that is..." replied the goblin once more, while outside, the snow storm had subsided enough to let the minions of the moneygod continue their endless endeavors in this beloved city of affluence "Geneva & co", and well, into this then, dressed like a rather oldish teletubby, armed with his laptop and under the influence of caffeine, the lone goblin readied himself, without much relish mind you, for yet another tromp to the bank, read withdrawals here, the post office, read pay one tithes then, and the bistro, read lick wounds and drown sorrows in more coffee, so he hits on singing "...we're off to see the blizzard, the wonderful blizzard that was, that was, that was because, tralala...", exits, only to take one foot outside the door and is simply buried in snow, where surfacing some distance further down the street, well, at the bistro no less, thinks aloud "...never mind your silly "secret of fire" humans, just tell me how one remains sane in all this dailylife, I will let you live if you do..."

79

 

[Forge3]

("...thank you for giving me something to think upon..." went the goblin thanking the Questor now, "...powerful poem that one too..." went the goblin thinking that the picture of in the post about the man who died young would work equally well for your poem then, adding "...I would like you to become known by your poems and persona, you see it only takes time and a constant output to gain a readership across forumland, moreover the publishing world is coming here because increasingly here is where the readers are, why, because no one seems to have the time to read at length, no they won't admit it openly but one hardly see anyone reading a book these days, instead they're all typing away now...")

repost from elsewhere, written in winter

"...why thank you my good human, if I may so bold as to call you one that is..." replied the goblin once more, while outside, the snow storm had subsided enough to let the minions of the moneygod continue their endless endeavors in this beloved city of affluence "Geneva & co", and well, into this then, dressed like a rather oldish teletubby, armed with his laptop and under the influence of caffeine, the lone goblin readied himself, without much relish mind you, for yet another tromp to the bank, read withdrawals here, the post office, read pay one tithes then, and the bistro, read lick wounds and drown sorrows in more coffee, so he hits on singing "...we're off to see the blizzard, the wonderful blizzard that was, that was, that was because, tralala...", exits, only to take one foot outside the door and is simply buried in snow, where surfacing some distance further down the street, well, at the bistro no less, thinks aloud "...never mind your silly "secret of fire" humans, just tell me how one remains sane in all this dailylife, I will let you live if you do..."

79

Thank-you. I have just come back to writing over the last few months or so. Will continue to write as inspired.

 

[fleamailman]

("...hope you do because me alone won't be nearly as viewed as us together now..." mentioned the goblin)

repost from elsewhere, just sharing

The touch screen on my phone has spontaniously cracked, it's dead!!!

the goblin just wished here express his heartfelt sympathy over the loss the telephone, who, when it had been working, had always been a happy telephone, joyous and friendly to everyone, adding "...but know this, that however bad this loss is for us now, and yes, this telephone will be sorely missed by both friends and telephones alike, it has, after all, gone to a better place from here and is at peace now, so join me then, let us hold our breath in silence and contemplation for this short moment for the loss of xxxxx's telephone now..., ..."

79

 

[Forge3]

Where do you get your stuff from Flea? I like your choice of pictures.

 

[fleamailman]

("...well, I must have seen hundreds upon hunderds of pictures on google image by now..." replied the goblin, continuing "...where often one just takes an underlying word in one's written text and then puts that word into their search bar, yet other times one is looking at the text to see if some image from a large pile of pictures one has stored fits, so the idea is to develop an illustrator's eye here, and not just a writer's way with words then, together with an alter ego...", in fact, there were quite a few livewriters around now, each with their own compromise towards it, adding "...may I think of your persona as a questor then, makes it easier for readers to remember you now...")

repost from elsewhere

quite unsurprisingly, the livewriters mostly get banned from writer's forums much like heretics would be burned, since they seem such an affront to the established book writing techniques, "...well maybe we are too, I mean you've seen both the posts and the hitcount to them, so why can't they, with all their fancy credentials that is, ever match these livewriter's threads themselves, I mean why is it our threads that everyone turns up upon, for do they ever illustrate their posts, use third person in their posts, repost in a air/edit/backup context, in short do they livewrite at all I wonder, and then dare they claim that their posts have anything to show for it, no oh no, all their effort is channelled into their books each time, while their posts are lift like some cinderella to their published stuff..." laughed the goblin smiling further, saying "...ah, you see the truth is that all this might look haphazard to you here, but no, I never let my guard down now, not even in a PM that is, for to write in posts means exactly that then, simply "one is book" here where their attention is ever elsewhere it seems..."

122

 

[fleamailman]

repost from elsewhere

Wouldn't it be better to commit them to paper, or some more permanent or enduring medium?

"...ah now first off nothing is ever safe whichever way it's stored, moreover a drawer has no response, and as long as it's posted over many forums eventually one will come across a reply that makes me think, much like yours has, though thinking alone is never enough for me, no it has to be actually made into a post to get that thought right with a picture to convey its image too, and then both text and picture are reposted to air/edit/backup it across forumland..." mentioned the goblin who, much like calling over some giant internet forest, has perfected his own call then while listening out for the calls of others here, adding "...well yes, from the outset the forest perfects the calls of those creatures who post upon it, yes, but it also grows the nature of those creatures too, simply forumland changes those who would remain here into those personas you now recognize by it..."

82

 

[fleamailman]

repost from elsewhere, just sharing again

something within the goblin always feared all that they call organized religion for the fact that it was organized, and thus trying to organize one too, saying "...how often do I feel that religion is an excuse not to find out for oneself then, and that one's connection to within, to that which has always been there too, is just ignored because of this compliant towing of the given external line each time, and no, I won't believe in, nor go somewhere closer, nor pay something towards, anything outside of me now, when you and I know it to be just there within one and without those preconditions too..."

70

 

[fleamailman]

repost from elsewhere, new, the "amarica is doomed" thread

"...head or tails goblin..." goes the voice of anton chigurh, yet just like in the film the goblin also knows that the election results and the flipping of the coin have no meaning, simply the crime will be committed either way then, that the 1% had hand picked their man in both political parties, where "pro whatever" was a trick to show some superficial difference between the parties, just icing again, and where the real game or cake was icy-dicey, an acronym for ICDC as in inflationary caused devaluation of currency, and once one understands their game, once one sees that their "pro whatever" politics, like that heads or tails then, is quite secondary to their subtle agenda that is advancing in the background, that their collusion between the fed and the banks at the expense of the economic system everyone and everything else too, just becomes so apparent, no the only question needed to be asked here is why is benake so hell bent on devaluing the currency by injecting 40billion new dollars into the system each month for "as long as it takes" in his words, but takes for what end now, and yes we know that both political parties are pushing for this at the behest of the fed too, so yes they're short selling america as we speak, where probably the 1% is betting against themselves to cash in on the downturn of the economy while we vote for mere icing in red or blue colours...", "...heads or tails, call it goblin, is it obama or roney then..." went the voice of on ourdearmedia each time, yet the plot had been planned out long before one was offered a choice of same difference

xxxx 647 8,347

 

[brinny]

did y'all miss me? i was without internet service since Monday.

 

[brinny]

What is the meaning of life the Questor poses? Here there are always thorns among the roses. We have your Word, the dividing sword and all it yields. Yet swords are still spent on blood soaked fields. And what of love that makes fools of men and men of fools?

Such deep questions the Questor pondered. And with such thoughts has long wondered.
Sometimes he wondered on how darkness is confounded by the light. And how stars seem to shine most brightly in the night. Such answers were hindered by the droning noise of the World. As if the clear picture was spintered and swirled. Or become as froth on waves curled. Not clear.

And dark clouds gather over the horizon
Like burial shrouds with shadows rising
Yet the sunflower turns facing the sun
As to the power of the Holy One.
Who even though cloaked in unknowing
Whispers follow me in the winds blowing

Wow my friend, this is livin' n' breathin' powerful beyond words.

 

[brinny]

repost from elsewhere, new, the "amarica is doomed" thread

"...head or tails goblin..." goes the voice of anton chigurh, yet just like in the film the goblin also knows that the election results and the flipping of the coin have no meaning, simply the crime will be committed either way then, that the 1% had hand picked their man in both political parties, where "pro whatever" was a trick to show some superficial difference between the parties, just icing again, and where the real game or cake was icy-dicey, an acronym for ICDC as in inflationary caused devaluation of currency, and once one understands their game, once one sees that their "pro whatever" politics, like that heads or tails then, is quite secondary to their subtle agenda that is advancing in the background, that their collusion between the fed and the banks at the expense of the economic system everyone and everything else too, just becomes so apparent, no the only question needed to be asked here is why is benake so hell bent on devaluing the currency by injecting 40billion new dollars into the system each month for "as long as it takes" in his words, but takes for what end now, and yes we know that both political parties are pushing for this at the behest of the fed too, so yes they're short selling america as we speak, where probably the 1% is betting against themselves to cash in on the downturn of the economy while we vote for mere icing in red or blue colours...", "...heads or tails, call it goblin, is it obama or roney then..." went the voice of on ourdearmedia each time, yet the plot had been planned out long before one was offered a choice of same difference

xxxx 647 8,347

i appreciate your insight, my friend. even if it clarifies our sure doom. The machine grows with each passing moment and the masses profunded in blindness nauseate me. at least with you there is no nausea.

 

[brinny]

It's been an honor knowing you and claiming you as my own, my nation, my country, known as the United states of America, and to the republic for which it stood. It is no more. The handwriting's on the wall. it was a long time comin' and come it has. and in the crumbling and sinking of it, the blinded masses party on to their self-imposed doom, not realizing they are sinking along with it.

 

[fleamailman]

("...yes, I wondered where you were brinny and this forum wouldn't be the same without you now..." replied the goblin liking that post then, adding "...I'm down with a cold at this point, but I love those hot lemon drinks, they almost make having a cold worth it..")

repost from elsewhere

I don't know how to post in the way you are writing.

"...think of a victorian journal then, or one of those musical jam sessions, where you either join in the topic directly or contributes something you feel others would appreciate now, or even something you feel should be related anyway, where adding pictures, writing in third person, or anything else for that matter is just optional here..." mentioned the goblin again, continuing "...with me, it's three goals always, "a writer's way with words", "an illustrator's eye" and "an internet-self or alter-ego", so I just choose words, add pictures, and mold a persona of myself here, nothing to it really but very rewarding though...", at which point the goblin would then look at the text and wonder which picture it resembled now, something which if anything had actually grown harder, not easier, over the years now

110

 

[brinny]

Aah, wishing you well my friend. Ginger root, pulverized and put in green tea with lemon knocks the stuffin' outta those ol' flu and virus nasties. Take care and keep yer chin up, and no matter what may you stay afloat come what may.

 

[brinny]

("...yes, I wondered where you were brinny and this forum wouldn't be the same without you now..." replied the goblin liking that post then, adding "...I'm down with a cold at this point, but I love those hot lemon drinks, tha almost make having a cold worth it..")

repost from elsewhere

"...think of a victorian journal then, or one of those musical jam sessions, where you either join in the topic directly or contributes something you feel others would appreciate now, or even something you feel should be related anyway, where adding pictures, writing in third person, or anything else for that matter is just optional here..." mentioned the goblin again, continuing "...with me, it's three goals always, "a writer's way with words", "an illustrator's eye" and "an internet-self or alter-ego", so I just choose words, add pictures, and mold a persona of myself here, nothing to it really but very rewarding though...", at which point the goblin would then look at the text and wonder which picture it resembled now, something which if anything had actually grown harder, not easier, over the years now

110

grown harder over the years? *brinny ponders what that means*

 

[fleamailman]

grown harder over the years? *brinny ponders what that means*

("...I guess one ups the benchmark as one goes along..." replied the goblin, adding "...so, whereas before I would have been satisfied with some picture near to what the text is saying, today I tend to be far more finicky about it, for example often upon reposting something I note that the picture doesn't really match for whatever reason, so this then is the illustrator's eye in practice...")

repost from elsewhere

"...you understand this situation all too well then..." mentioned the goblin now, in fact, the goblin seemed to experience two worlds at this point, one that of his direct family in geneva where he was ever responsible, and the other one of his parents in this dartmoor village, where he wasn't responsible it seems, only effected by it, "...somehow the house, with its wind and rain, has a distinct sound to it, the birds too, call differently here, the water tastes different, perhaps even the hardness of the bed then, all then, contributes to a feeling of a distinct different world within an old house's orbit perhaps, but I know me too well now, for when dad goes, I will never return to spoil this memory, I won't want to know how it's changes afterwards, for I bury my past within me always, no facebook here, and so, dad, in asking me to sprinkle mum's ashes in summer in the sea at felixstowe ferry, as is our family's way of doing these things, has asked me to break a ghost that I've not seen in thirty years now, replacing it with its new ghost then...", somehow the goblin just was reminded here, of those natives americans, who, at some time of great importance, broke a small bronze figurine to mark the moment perhaps, perhaps too, rooted in human sacrifice then, understandable now, saying "...anyway, I will sprinkle those ashes then, as this ritual is mine, and mine alone, and just for once it doesn't need to be done "right", ah no, just this once it needs to be done "felt"..."

85

 

[brinny]

Hoping you feel better my friend.

 

[fleamailman]

Hoping you feel better my friend.

(a hand, protruding from the bedcovers, waves at brinny now, where beneath it a green croaky voice goes "...if this resembles my deathbed here, know that there was ones amongst you humans who befriended me, and that I will put in a good word for you, just as long as you bring some hot lemon drink...", in fact, goblin envisaged that heaven probably had free WIFI and unlimited filtered coffee for the asking, where if not he was going to stay in bed then)

repost from elsewhere, the subject of perfect writing again

"...ah no, you humans can just keep anything "well written", and those who try to equate perfection in writing to mundane computer programming, joining up dots, etc., ..." repeated the goblin, continuing "..so it's no, not "well written" now, nah not "well written" never ever too, instead just I'll settle for something "well read" now, leaving grammatical goosestep, syntax niceties and other emperor's clothes stuff to those writer's workshops of would be writers who would flog themselves over it, and besides perfection is just too predictable anyway, so it's the unpredictability of life's imperfection that tantalises me now, wherein with livewriting one is so free to write it as one wishes, where when all is said and done, the hitcount to one's posts either condemns or condoles one's efforts, moreover, both critics and readers can come along for the ride if they like, just as long as they remember it's my journey to self though writing I'm writing here, not theirs..."

xxxx

 

[brinny]

what is this hot lemon drink?

 

[brinny]

In the seeming madness
the gleeful loathesome gladness
the darkness
the cloud of denial
there shone a light
it led here
to hearts and eyes
that saw clear,
minds unfettered
by the sickness
of soul
in this land.
And thus,
like a lighthouse
to a ship
tossed to and fro
I found reprieve
a safe harbor
where I could breeeeathe.