write something nonsensical, surreal, silly.

[NNL]

I would read instruction manuals if they were an audio book.

 

[brinny]

at first he just appeared to be a very weary old man, in dark clothing, hunched over and walking oh so slowly, until he sat on some steps. i wondered what he was doing out so late and if he'd be able to get up again. why wasn't he home? where'd he live anyway, isn't he cold? as i walked past him i i sensed a weariness that was beyond "old age". It could only be described as "ancient". i turned, walked back and as i asked him if he was ok, he slowly looked up. his eyes were startlingly piercing, belying any weariness or frailty. i asked him if he lived far. He said he lived close by and was on his way there and would be ok. i gave him what was in my pocket, and telling him to be careful, i continued walking. it was then that i realized i had just seen an angel unawares. the kind that show up in the most distressing of guises, that are "invisible" and easily dismissed or avoided. They're everywhere, and in the most unlikely of places, and forms. We just need to open our eyes to see them.

 

[fleamailman]

("...good, the posts are getting more imaginative and better still..." ventured the goblin knowing that it only took practice and determination, saying "...so look to your posts humans, you're personas on forumland now, and what's more, you'll be a persona here for the rest of your days never to grow old like one does in one's dailylife, loneliness too is often the fate of the elderly but not here, not if you put your all in your posts, nor if you can draw others to your pen, so what say you, care to take a journey to self then anonymously...")

repost from elsewhere

"...it's a slow process but "facing the slot" somehow has me biting the hand of this dailylife that feeds me with..." joked the goblin not really laughing since the goblin also knew he was at dailylife's mercy too, "...the magician's trick is to have me think that the object is where it should be, only to surprise me by its being elsewhere..." the goblin sought the right words saying "...I have often fallen for dailylife's tricks then, these little distractions that turn out to be worthless, whereas once in a very rare while I can actually make out that magician behind it all..."

39

 

[iamauthentic]

sometimes, i look up into the sky and i see a kitchen cabinet with a chef eating all of the garbonzo beans. my mother comes in and she is flying into the dresser after i have eaten all my dinner my friends asked me how i was doing.

 

[brinny]

i don't remember my dreams, mostly.....they are safely locked away, buried, swallowed in a sea of oblivion, forbidden to venture into my safe harbor of forgetfulness. Sometimes they pay me no heed. And they visit.

 

[brinny]

I did not really love my mother until I "grew up". God's grace enabled me to see her differently, in a new light. I no longer saw her as a 'mommy' that did not meet my needs, who hurt me, but as a woman who suffered greatly as a child, and as an adult, and who was unable to ask my forgiveness. God enabled me to see past her faults and see her need. We developed a new relationship before she died and I am thankful to God for it. By the time she passed we had been reconciled and had a relationship that was genuinely a friendship. I had learned not to expect something from her that she was unable to give. In the beginning, our visits were brief, and lasted only as long as it was genuinely tolerable...I met with her in 'doses'. Our visits became longer, and always were because we genuinely enjoyed each others company. I saw clearly just who she was, her limitations, and mine. It was 'real' for the 1st time in my life. My mom knew that I genuinely loved, respected, and saw her as the unique person she was and that I delighted in being with her. I realized only after she died what God must have been doing....He was loving her through me.

 

[fleamailman]

("...getting better and better..." went the goblin liking brinny's post thinking it definitive, adding "...the picture is just perfect then...")

 

[brinny]

("...well I'm just your average everyday sort of goblin I suppose..." replied the goblin welcoming Max Raphael to brinny's fun thread here, explaining "...please allow me to corrupt you further into thinking that that which you write is you and shows you to yourself by it, a simple journey to self in posts then...", ah but didn't everyone know by now that goblins were not to be trusted)

repost from elsewhere, the "what are you doing" thread

the goblin was slowly absorbing the gist of the text written on a fair sized tin of rat poison he was holding, something like warning, contains a very slow acting poison that works rather like your dailylife does. save that it's both cheaper and less bother, thank you for reading this, and have a nice day human, yours sincerely, the resident rodents, "...so those rats are on to a good thing then, right, the kettle has boiled, now where's that coffee jar..." voiced the goblin aloud to himself over his laptop this breakfast time, "...actually, it's the same tin goblin..." came the small voice from a crack in the wall

60

average everyday

nah.

 

[fleamailman]

average everyday

nah

("...afraid so, why I bet if you were to line us goblins up in a row you would pick me out amongst them then..." mentioned the goblin before posting on)

repost from elsewhere

"...ah ladies, a man will never tell you that he actually loves you for your imperfections then, while you will never believe it for the simple truth it is, even when he tells you clearly that it just is, so instead he just tells you that you are perfect, which rightly you don't believe either, where he's just hoping that it will somehow appease you with a lie that of course doesn't please you..." mused the goblin adding almost in a whisper and a wasted breath "...proximity and time are all that matter here where men are concerned, they love you for your imperfections again, but you never believe men do you, so still you want to be some monotone perfect when it's your imperfections that makes you so wondrous to him..."

61 248 2027

 

[fleamailman]

repost from elsewhere, the "what are you doing" thread

the goblin had been talking to santa, saying "...look, to be honest with you, I think I am a little bit too old for those electric train sets and meccano building kits at my advanced age, but, since we both know that I have been a very good goblin for many years now, what I would really like for christmas this year is a LHC, a large hadron collider that is, one like they have at CERN here, if only because it's a rather good mixture of both those toys don't you think, only bigger, ah but failing that, could you just make sure that we still have a christmas when CERN goes fully functional in november then...", "...ho ho ho, anything to please my goblin friend then, actually we can't afford a real LHC, what with this global recession right now, but I'll tell you what then, here's a model replica by lego instead..."

61

 

[fleamailman]

repost from elsewhere, about immigrating to oz, goblin declining

And make sure none of you Brits and Euros, and Americanos row your little boats down here, looking to migrate to the land of milk and honey, that is Australia! Only joking, you're all welcome to come, but can't guarentee you'll get past airport customs. They're a bit thorough here, with their search techniques.......

"...ah no, me, I am going to live on the internet instead..." replied the goblin, adding "...oh yes, the old fart creates me still, though if he creates me well enough, I will take over from when he exits, well as a livewriter till that moment then, and just as a written work after that I suppose..."

89

 

[fleamailman]

repost from elsewhere

I'm glad you liked it. It brought tears to my eyes.

"...I cried too..." replied the goblin, adding "...but I guess, what with you're nam-vet background, all would have been far clearer to you, you knew well that for some families who weren't shown in that video, the outcome was so tragically different, simply, most viewers from civistreet haven't got a clue what soldiers and their families go through each time, now they only see media coverage of warzones, where they don't realized that the soldier their viewing on the screen is actually a man with his family, no, they just see media spin, action, excitement, whatever, but not the real context then...", and with that, the goblin then pinched the video, saying "...ah, but we're not to be trusted, though you know me by now, I can't resist true beauty once I've seen it..."

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hkGzqpGx1KU
100 251http://www.christianforums.com/misc.php?do=whoposted&t=7670171 2057

 

[fleamailman]

repost from elsewhere, where often the goblin is actually addressing himself in replying to others

"...simply you owe it to your pen to continue writing now..." started the goblin, adding "...life's angels are not there to be nice, they're there to help you shine in their reflection, where what would be the point of your pen at all if your evident ability, and their fate too, were all simply met by your running away like this...", in fact, the goblin often felt that those who wrote for money were cheap writers, while those who wrote for fame were vain ones, but far worse then either of those two was a writer who flinched form his muse, adding "...your muse has picked you now, so can't you do justice to her then, are you really leaving writing like this...", "...quo vadis.."whispered the muse's voice ever in the back of the goblin's mind now, adding "...nowhere to run to either goblin, so take up your pen once more, this time is ours to reflect in..."

155 252 2081

 

[fleamailman]

repost from elsewhere, a woman's interest "last post" thread

the goblin always thanked the posters for their score keeping assumptions but for the goblin the score was always going to be "this one present last post itself with everything else past", but then the goblin added "...ah but at any moment it could be yours if you post again..." ventured the goblin winning this time but knowing that he would lose to the next poster, explaining "...the fact, that one lives against one's death gives this life its depth, whereas the fact, that one posts against one's silence gives forumland its depth too, yet both are quite futile aren't they..."

14 253http://www.christianforums.com/misc.php?do=whoposted&t=7670171 2090

 

[fleamailman]

repost from elsewhere

"...thanks..." said the goblin, knowing that when he tried he failed, and yet, when he didn't try it came to him, the goblin explained "...simply, the pact with muse's changes the focus of one's life from what do I want in life to what is worth posting in life, and there are three clauses of her pact then that seem constant throughout ones posting life here, their being "honesty", "a shared life" and "a thick skin", where the first and last clause are self-explanatory, but the second one "a shared life" is only really understood by someone who has opened up to their muse...", at which point the goblin wondered if he was making sense, even to himself, but he continued, adding "...you see, the average writer doesn't know when, nor where, nor what, idea will she'll offer him, simply the muse is constantly there and the writer somehow lives with her sharing their dailylife together 24/7 in his mind...", "...so, in other words what the goblin's saying that you writers are a bunch of raving schizophrenics..." went slot's voice in the background, where the goblin suddenly started twiddling his thumbs in escape mode wondering how he could ever get out of that accusation then, but alas there seems no escape now

18 254 2115

 

[brinny]

i was an idiot. Once i bought "Pan's Labyrinth" not knowing who Pan was. It didn't come together until i saw post #253. It's the legs and feet. Well not feet, really. They're more like hooves, aren't they? And then there's the legs. A bit hairy, aren't they? C'mon, i'm familiar with goblins...been reading fairy tales since i could first put words together, only moving on to Greek myths after there were no more fairy tales left to read. And this guy ain't no goblin. Goblins have toes. Yup, and sensitive ones at that. That's why they where concrete shoes, so nobody can stomp them. Well, some of them do.

And Pan, or any semblance of him, ain't no goblin.

 

[fleamailman]

("...love the post brinny, you're really moving into your element there, with no one to tell you how you should write so instead you just continue finding out that which works for you in your posts, where my role is simply to accompany you in this venture until it turns into your adventure without me..." mentioned the goblin, adding "...it's not for everyone, but those who are the type become livewriters by default then, their usernames become authornames and they are simply known by their posts too...")

repost from elsewhere

"...so one's old age finally helps one to turn inwards..." said the goblin adding "...but why turn inwards only after one's old age forces itself upon one...", somehow the goblin's battle for his mother against her slowly engulfing senility had shown him that much at least, that those who are ill prepared for their own retirement often suffered within that aimless freedom of it, where the goblin just remarked "...so the real question for me here is how to turn inwards then, seeing that all on my outside is not mine to keep anyway, just that everything other than myself belongs to a dailylife that invariably takes back whatever gifts it has offered without pity nor choice..."

47 256 2139

 

[fleamailman]

repost from elsewhere

the goblin thanked everyone repeating "...all the matching pictures are either gifts from members who felt they wanted to share their finds here, or they were ones that I have come across on forumland..." said the goblin adding "...so I never take credit for the pictures since I have only matched them...", the goblin drank deep from his cup once more, looked across the bistro floor at the dog lying there who, forming a perfect circle, now placed his chin of his tail in a "boy I'm cute" statement while waggling his ears, probably morse code like "...---. -. .-..--- .--. .-. etc.," slowly registering within the goblin's brain as "help, I am bored out of my banana", while it's owner nattered on relentlessly into her cellphone over a cluttered table , the goblin just typed on, saying "...actually, I'm prolific so I guess everyone's interest will probably wane before I'm through my my air/edit/backup here...", but either way the goblin preferred to go it one post at a time, just looking at the text trying to visualize it before once more running through the collection of possible pictures, saying "...well, it'll never be anything more than just this then, just an exercise in anonymous self-honesty while it lasts I suppose...", yet by now the dog too, was fast asleep but then again who could blame it for sleeping

47

 

[fleamailman]

repost from elsewhere

sunday morning early hours, the goblin needs this solitude to speak to the slot "...speak to me o wise goblin...", they often jested, after all they went back years together "slot, the point in life is not longevity we know, I don't want my engine ticking over aimlessly I want to go at full throttle and crash out of this life at some point...", "...and what about those who depend on you goblin, have you forgotten them...", "...no but would they have me live a lesser life here slot..." the goblin's mind went back to the point where his mother, when she wasn't in this vegetable state then, had mentioned that granddad had asked for the fatal injection after his debilitating stroke "...slot, if I don't choose to be granddad, I will become my mother, for life is not some bank account to be saved, you do understand don't you..." long pauses between them, then "...so goblin what downfall have you planned for yourself...", "...nah, that's not my intention at this point slot, but to me it's a great freedom to know I can choose I suppose, where that choice remains mine and mine alone..."

18

 

[brinny]

i've heard of butterfly gardens...delightfully refreshing places of quiet refuge for body, mind, and soul, from this hurry-sickened world. Stopping the wheels at least for a little while to be still, oh so very still, and breeeeeathe. One could almost say that they promote healing and renewal, a redemption of sorts. But a butterfly circus? i watched out of curiosity , after all, i have nothing against butterflies. And there it was. a beautiful unfolding like the wings of a butterfly emerging from a cocoon, a message of beauty from ashes, of redemption, inexplicable grace, and hope. And when it comes right down to it, aren't we simply dead men walking without it?

The Butterfly Circus [Short Film HD] - YouTube