write something nonsensical, surreal, silly.

[fleamailman]

("...nice posts..." went the goblin, continuing "...keep them coming then...")

the goblin didn't drink, or more truthfully he had shared a glass of white wine occasionally, feeling too, that his brain needed saving for the future, a flawed logic he knew since it somewhat dependent upon that mere expectation of a tomorrow that might not be, yet most people did die with their potential unused and their money still in the bank, saying "...yes, I am poor, but not because of what I actually have, more because I don't know how long I'll have it, so one carries this responsibility for one's future by holding back and saving for tomorrow..." and the longer the goblin anticipated his life to be the poorer one became by it, somehow that line old young is old long just seemed apt here, saying "...only my youth lived for today, so the me now lives projected into the future but at least that's not me living in the past..."

 

[brinny]

What am i praying for?

...that i hear God only, and look not to the right or to the left, but straight ahead....that He grants me HIS vision and clarity, wisdom, and discernment, and that He equips me in mind, body, spirit, with His armor, to run His race....for the time is short....He is calling His children to take a stand for Him.

i pray that therse words are my portion, and my heart's desire.

Be thou my vision - YouTube

How/why could/would i pray for anything else? All else hinges on God, working ALL things out. In the meantime we are called to stand for Him. If we look back after starting to push the plow, we are not fit to be a child in His kingdom. There IS a cost to running His race. Are we willing to throw all else down and follow Him, as He leads us in the race? Are we not told in no un-certain terms that we are INDEED to RUN the race? Are we running it?

"Therefore we also, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which so easily ensnares us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking unto Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith, who for the joy that was set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. For consider Him who endured such hostility from sinners against Himself, lest you become weary and discouraged in your souls. (Heb 12.1-3)




(re-posted from March, 2010....a song i had forgotten.....yet my prayer, still)

 

[brinny]

Surreal-ish-ness.

Night had fallen. Darkness hung heavy, covering the tiny village like a shroud. Footsteps jarred the silence.
In the shadowy gloom there was heard a scream. Then silence. Something unseen and sinister lurked in the shadows.
Silently it crept. Not a word. Not a sound. Insidiously he stalked, this hellish hound.
And thus it was. A nefarious catyclism of abhorrent idiosyncrasies.
(hehe just playin' with words)​

 

[brinny]

random, pointless comment

don't get all Stephen King-ish on me

 

[brinny]

who IS this Dr. Oz???

....apparently he has an assignment for me?

i'm watching the news and here he be, on a commercial ev'ry 10 minutes,,,,and this time he announces he has an assignment for me???

Did i ask him? Did i tune into his show? Did i invite his "assignment"?

Just WHO does he think he is??!!

What a pompous piece o' work. Reminds me o' this gov't that believes we iz just sheep, waiting to be told what to do.....makes me wanna do this

 

[brinny]

our weaknesses as His children....in this present dimension we must journey through....

and i realize more and more the brevity of bringing ALL we are inside and out, to our Abba....and not just "bring" all that we are, but RUN to Him with all of it......

ev-er-y single bit of all that is hidden, stashed away, in those dark places...

empty it out....ALL of it. Like a small child emptying his pockets before his loving father.

We are weak, finite, a speck of dust.

Distractions and voices and messages in the world attempt to drown out our being "real" and fully transparent before our Abba.

I see now what Abba means when He brings the point home to "pray without ceasing"...can we not do this? Don't we ask Him to "help" us do this, as He teaches us, THROUGH our "praying without ceasing" to gravitate, at His prompting, to lift ALL of us, to HIM.....and we are more and more a living, breathing extension of our Abba's grace, as He replaces our depraved, self-centered, "me" centered-ness, with His heart, His vision, His thoughts?

We, His children are in battle, we are fighting a dire fight of eternal proportions, although an "unseen" one. God sees, He guides us, He empowers us, He grants us endure-ance to "fight the good fight"....as our eyes are opened, and we see our brothers and sisters and we lift each up in the midst of this sobering, dire battle, that must be fought, in this present journey, in this present dimension.

and we continue....journeying on....conversing with our Abba along the way....Who goes before us, emblazoning a path, as we follow, in His footsteps....and we lift our fellow brothers and sisters, along this journey, those fighting the good fight, to Him, our Abba.

"Be kindly affectioned one to another with brotherly love; in honour preferring one another;" ~Romans 12:10

He loves us, y'know. And He teaches us to look beyond all of our weaknesses, for we are frought with them, (for they plague us), and see each of us through the eyes of His grace, and thus lift each of us, all the more, to our Abba, Who is our strength.

Kansas - Dust In The Wind ...with Lyrics - YouTube

(re-posted from February, 2010)

 

[brinny]

High Flight

Oh, I have slipped the surly bonds of earth
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings.
Sunward I've climbed and joined the tumbling mirth
Of sun split clouds - and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of; wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hovering there
I've chased the shouting wind along, and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air;
Up, up the long delirious burning blue
I've topped the windswept heights with easy grace,
Where never lark nor even eagle flew;
And while, with silent lifting mind I've trod
The high, untrespassed sanctity of space
Put out my hand and touched the face of God.
Fl. Officer John Gillespie McGee
1922-1941​

 

[fleamailman]

("...that's the one..." mentioned the goblin noting that brinny had found it, adding "...how about the original of this one then...")

Microsoftious
I met a broker of the Wallstreet brand
Who said: Two vast and worthless piles of stock
Lie crashed upon the ground. About them, near to hand,
Now shrunk, these tattered credits lies, that shock,
Of bloated slips whose sure and bold command,
Tell that their author well those passions read,
Which yet survive, scribbled on these worthless things,
The hand that believed them, and the heart that bled,
And upon their cardboard box these words appear:
"My name is Microsoftious, Share of Shares:
Look upon my works, ye wealthy, and despair!"
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of this colossal crash, boundless and bare
The blown and leveled brands stretch far away.

-fleamailman-

 

[fleamailman]

being anonymous the goblin wasn't sure if it was "social networking" as such, but he posted across dozens of forums daily, saying "...well, for me at least, facebook seems a writer's nightmare, something like "hi, my name is adolf, oh, and guess what, I hang out at walmats too, eat at mcdonalds where I do my internet, here's my photo, all my personal details, the films I like, my PSP3 games then, oh, and take at look at this, my heavy metal tattoo on my bum, and my signed poster of bing crosby himself, aren't I amazing, oh please do accept me as I have enough superficial paraphernalia or whatever for you to like me now"...", where perhaps the first thing a writer should actually be, is free from all that cheapness, just honest to himself each time..." simply the goblin was saying, that whenever he had grown close to someone on forumland, it had been solely on the merit of their words alone, for what else of them was really here now, they were, until they appeared in real life that is, just as anonymous as the goblin was, quite unable to prove anything then

 

[brinny]

("...that's the one..." mentioned the goblin noting that brinny had found it, adding "...how about the original of this one then...")

Microsoftious
I met a broker of the Wallstreet brand
Who said: Two vast and worthless piles of stock
Lie crashed upon the ground. About them, near to hand,
Now shrunk, these tattered credits lies, that shock,
Of bloated slips whose sure and bold command,
Tell that their author well those passions read,
Which yet survive, scribbled on these worthless things,
The hand that believed them, and the heart that bled,
And upon their cardboard box these words appear:
"My name is Microsoftious, Share of Shares:
Look upon my works, ye wealthy, and despair!"
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of this colossal crash, boundless and bare
The blown and leveled brands stretch far away.

-fleamailman-

brinny is reminded of something a bishop at a former church once said...that Bill Gates has an altar in honor of himself, and worships himself there.

 

[brinny]

being anonymous the goblin wasn't sure if it was "social networking" as such, but he posted across dozens of forums daily, saying "...well, for me at least, facebook seems a writer's nightmare, something like "hi, my name is adolf, oh, and guess what, I hang out at walmats too, eat at mcdonalds where I do my internet, here's my photo, all my personal details, the films I like, my PSP3 games then, oh, and take at look at this, my heavy metal tattoo on my bum, and my signed poster of bing crosby himself, aren't I amazing, oh please do accept me as I have enough superficial paraphernalia or whatever for you to like me now"...", where perhaps the first thing a writer should actually be, is free from all that cheapness, just honest to himself each time..." simply the goblin was saying, that whenever he had grown close to someone on forumland, it had been solely on the merit of their words alone, for what else of them was really here now, they were, until they appeared in real life that is, just as anonymous as the goblin was, quite unable to prove anything then

brinny wonders if forumland can be a bit distracting if not toxic in large doses...yet ponders if it compares to facebook's self-destructive appeal to sheeples, known for their plugged ears and selectively tunnel-visioned eyes.

 

[fleamailman]

what a beautiful place forumland is turning out to be, felt the goblin, who was dealing with so many consecutive threads at once now, saying "...well this is exactly why my dailylife is a thief, and why one's journey to self here is no game at all, no, other people's deaths should make one reappraise one's priorities a bit, and yet, time and again, one delays that appraisal for those more pressing matters of dailylife because one's dailylife continues and one is within it, what of it, well I hope posting, which is facing this slot here, grows an awareness in all of us that everything is a mere assumption of certainty, that life is ever momentary then...", in fact, gnostics didn't pray with a shopping list, nor would the goblin for that matter, but his mind was focused on the big picture and he wouldn't let it pass without looking upon the importance of it, saying "...both birth and death are two very thin moments for anyone are they not, reminding one that something wonderful is so close at hand, no, nothing to actually believe in, yet everything to know about, surely one's journey to self is not some set religion, it's just a evident result from feeding the slot like this, of facing oneself and of seeing what comes of it, just a journey to self in posts perhaps...", "...wait, they'll suspect you're mad now goblin..." went those voices in the background once more, "...and as if they didn't know that much already then..." replied the goblin, adding "...but at least now they'll know why I continue this journey here..."

 

[brinny]

brinny ponders the slot...

 

[fleamailman]

("...I like that picture brinny..." went the goblin, adding "...and very soon now I'll be my true goblin self here, able to add the pictures hitherto to that which I have missed...")

"...well goblin..." said the slot, calmly continuing "...it's a paradox of course, but one only truly wins this game when one is empty inside, when one admits defeat and when one has nothing left within one to post that is, otherwise I just laugh waiting for your inevitable return, so perhaps winning outright is simply admitting some breaking point here...", the goblin didn't reply, the slot then asked "...so goblin are you beat by now, or are there yet more posts from you still...", no the goblin was still shuffling his thoughts like some pack of cards in the evening calm, while outside the sound of some odd distant car, at times, cut into continuous chorus of songbirds and his calculations here, "...um, I suppose slot, I might try to stop posting if and when I knew that I wasn't posting for myself anymore..." replied the goblin in a moment of honest selfishness, adding "...but more likely, I would just try to find myself again, because this posting, after all, has to be selfish or it is lying, has to be me or it is not me, and above all, has to show me who I am by what I post, or it is just a game then..."

 

[brinny]

brinny ponders if slots aren't the epitome of games......

 

[brinny]

brinny looks forward to the goblin's pictures....

 

[brinny]

("...I like that picture brinny..." went the goblin, adding "...and very soon now I'll be my true goblin self here, able to add the pictures hitherto to that which I have missed...")

...brinny continues pondering.....having never associated goblins with anything but remembrances of those spoken of in fairy tales

 

[fleamailman]

("...I like that picture very much..." went the goblin thanking brinny)

again the goblin's mind is caught in the branches of a concept, that the anonymous are not held accountable, and yet the goblin was not impervious to either guilt or regret here, where oddly too, he cared very deeply about his anonymous goblin persona without having any actual reason to care, saying "...I suppose it's what you have of me, and what's more, it's probably all I really have of myself too, for in this life the rest are just externals..."

 

[fleamailman]

"...welcome to the modern day world of on-line writing humans..." went the goblin, adding "...ah yes, you may lament your hearts out at this point, but you'll only be joining those previous who lamented this present trend, and those who will in their turn decry the future now...", in fact, the goblin was simply a realist who understood that one has to compromise towards writing on forumland, saying "...have you ever stopped to wonder why so few writers ever build up any sort of direct readership across forumland, where you would have thought that their posts would have everyone, aka their readers now, eagerly following them, where, without my saying more, perhaps it's time to stop shooting the messenger for the writing on the wall and perhaps start heeding the message instead..."

 

[brinny]

"If we only have the will to walk, then God is
pleased with our stumbles."
C.S. Lewis​