write something nonsensical, surreal, silly.

[fleamailman]

repost from elsewhere, goblin doing a welcome on a writer's forum once more

and with that the goblin's hopes were high, saying "...welcome to this forum then, look, please don't be put off by the fact that there are writers here, no they mean well I'm sure, just that they're a bunch of schizophrenic daydreamers with that evident multi personality disorder that makes repeatedly steal from one another and from the normal people too, absolutely anything in order to write too well that which is usually too long for those who can't read anyway...", but, other than this one rather minor detraction of course, the goblin felt that here was inviting enough and welcomed the new poster to settle in now

155

 

[fleamailman]

repost from elsewhere, the goblin defending the concept of uniform persona

the goblin's persona, which is what we are talking about here, will probably be around longer than the person who is writing this will, forumland has already seen to that then, where those posts elsewhere serve to extend the goblin's persona beyond himself, where the goblin didn't know how many forums his stuff now appeared on, nor where on facebook or elsewhere they were either, no those posts were unto themselves, simply in this situation his anonymity freed him from caring beyond their creation, "...individual deletions of my posts and bans towards me change nothing in the larger context of forumland as those offending posts are ever elsewhere webbed across other forums, but let me make this clearer to you now where let me guess that you see this as one thread upon your forum, true enough it is, but to me I see it as the same type thread across an endless number of forums, meaning that if someone wishes to erase me entirely they can't whereas if someone wants to find me, or any these threads, they can, because the thread-type and persona-type remain constant and uniform throughout, no actually it's the forums themselves that come and go, where none of those forums from the bbs age remain today yet here we are posting still...", in fact the goblin was thinking of it more like agent smith in matrix then, of not merely being here on this forum alone, but of one's being across forumland itself, simply a random thread became the stages of the personas who frequented them

54

 

[fleamailman]

repost from elsewhere

the goblin was by nature happy, but happyness was never his goal in life, and although the goblin couldn't say that he had liked the unhappy moments of those deaths or goodbyes or dashed hopes, injuries, or deprevatoins, either to himself or to the others around him, and yet, it was as if these negatives were all a necessary part of his dailylife, somehow there to make one more aware of just how deep this life can be and just how lucky one was to live something made more real by its own uncertainty, "...simply I wish anyone else their happiness if that is what they want of themselves that is, but for me at this point, I would rather be deep, since it is only by reaching depth that I can be truly creative in the short span remaining...", the goblin stopped as if knowing something too, and he then added "...besides, since when were those tenterhooks of love some sort of mere happiness now, for love is always part tragic in its folly its pain is part of it..."

28

 

[fleamailman]

("...same idea, a retry then..." went the goblin)

repost from elsewhere

whatever happiness the goblin had was tempered by a certain sobriety and by his growing acceptance of the actual uncertainty of his future, all something understandable even, explaining "...you see, the further back I go into my past the more I seemed to hold sure upon a lie, perhaps knowing it was just a lie all the same, and yet I believed in its simplicity as one would believe in either god or santa, and even now, that child in me craves for that lie that the rest of me can't or won't accept any more, the child craves its american dream still with those safe perimeters of work, family and home...", where all along any belief was a measure of one's doubt too, since it showed that one didn't know for sure, where today this sobriety of his age has simply shown the goblin that the american dream had been a façade and that nothing is either that simple or that certain, yet that belief had still been comfortable compared to this sobriety of today's understanding that all is uncertain except for one's own exit, whereupon the goblin, concluded "...and, although I can't interpret any of this present day sobriety as happiness as such, which it isn't, at least I am grateful to be able to accept what remains of my life for its uncertainty then, an uncertainty that makes it much more real to me because it is tinged with unhappiness too..."

28 483http://www.christianforums.com/misc.php?do=whoposted&t=7670171 6047

 

[Forge3]

We walked in this land as a stranger
Then unity was forged from a manger
Oh Morning star how bright you shine!
Warming us with beams Divine.

You worked in Joseph's workshop
look at what your hands have wrought
And on a cross of wood have bought.
Praise for the lessons you have taught.

The 'wind' brought you to the Desert
Borne as with love not a hair shirt
To prepare for your heavenly mission
Saving His children oh great commision!

You walked among us as a man
Teach us so we may understand
Oh Divine Manna Oh Word of God
That we may sing to you our lauds

Oh True Phoenix from the ashes
Who bore for us forty lashes
And annoited us as with Chrism
To go to where you have risen.

Oh heart of God made known
We cannot live by bread alone
May we make our hearts your own
To soft flesh from out of stone.

 

[brinny]

phenomenal my friend.

 

[fleamailman]

("...yes, that's what I want to read here..." went the goblin hoping that others would post too, adding "...alone, this thread won't work, but if we're together in this, and if others come along too, well then what stops one from becoming known by one's posts I wonder...")

repost from elsewhere

the goblin had lost the plot for the sub plot again, saying "...cunning little critters these sub plots are too, you think you know what it's all about, the answer to it all, etc., and then suddenly something happens and those sums don't add up anymore, as one just realizes one has been had by one's own complacency towards the real plot again, and how the sub plot mocks one here...", while outside the bistro, a cool post rain morning on the goblin's day off just casually echoed this sentiment to him once more, "just another day like any other in rat race city" then, with yet more "start line births" for some people, and "finish line deaths" for others, where for the rest of us there was ever this ongoing track between those two lines then, with umpteen hurdles of sub plots to meet on the way, where somewhere in all this was the real plot then something that was ever elusive as if laughing at one here, perhaps hidden in full view even

61

 

[fleamailman]

repost from elsewhere, a british "last post" thread

I often wonder if it is possible to live in modern day society without sacrificing one's morals but then again I often wonder why chicken flavour crisps taste more like chicken that chickens themselves. It's a funny old world

"...ah flavor, being a sense, is so subjective to the one's sensing it is it not..." replied the goblin continuing "...so perhaps too, the image of britain being not as british then as she actually is, or that line the devil is no as black as he is painted springs to mind here...", though the goblin agreed that it almost made one wonder at what one is wondering then, often that wonder seemed better then than the reality it turned out to be then, as if the experience actually spoiled the expectation, "...save for salt and vinegar crisps that is, there the brits can really be proud of themselves since they are perfection it seems, so much so in fact, that, faced with some sensuous eager english lass, on the one hand, and a packet of salt and vinegar crisps on the other, the choice is such a hard one isn't it, munch, munch..." ventured the goblin about it

68

 

[Forge3]

phenomenal my friend.

("...yes, that's what I want to read here..." went the goblin hoping that others would post too, adding "...alone, this thread won't work, but if we're together in this, and if others come along too, well then what stops one from becoming known by one's posts I wonder...")

repost from elsewhere

the goblin had lost the plot for the sub plot again, saying "...cunning little critters these sub plots are too, you think you know what it's all about, the answer to it all, etc., and then suddenly something happens and those sums don't add up anymore, as one just realizes one has been had by one's own complacency towards the real plot again, and how the sub plot mocks one here...", while outside the bistro, a cool post rain morning on the goblin's day off just casually echoed this sentiment to him once more, "just another day like any other in rat race city" then, with yet more "start line births" for some people, and "finish line deaths" for others, where for the rest of us there was ever this ongoing track between those two lines then, with umpteen hurdles of sub plots to meet on the way, where somewhere in all this was the real plot then something that was ever elusive as if laughing at one here, perhaps hidden in full view even

61

Thanks again

 

[fleamailman]

repost from elsewhere

why do we do this goblin

the goblin thanked the poster, saying "...I suppose it's just because you listen to me then, sometimes that's all we can give one another, lend ears that is, for it's like when I phone my father, I only say to him "I just wanted to hear your voice", and perhaps that is the best thing I can say under the circumstances and probably all that he would accept as proper, simply it's the end, that much we know, but how can someone hold up their stoic wall of acceptance in silence, whenever it is compromised by the sentimentalities and dramas of those around them, and yet when he does want to say something I'm listening, that's all, so that's my role today, and then it'll be someone else's turn to listen to me sone day, for that's how life is I suppose, and how it then goes on without us too..."

54

 

[brinny]

A light shines, a voice calls out breaking through the dark wilderness of despair. A voice speaking for those who cannot speak for themselves. Your heart belies your username. You're the piece, the voice, that echoes throughout eternity, that began in the depths of His heart. A voice that joins in a chorus of triumph, of victory.

Having heard His heartcry, you respond with your own; resounding in a cry for the un-seen, the cast aside, the devastated, the plundered, trod upon, dismissed, and not missed.

You are an answer to prayer, a reminder that:

He hears
He sees
He knows
He loves
US,
all of us.

By His tender mercies, by His lovingkindness, by His inexplicable grace, I lift you up, just as you lift up those who are too weary to lift their eyes to the one Who is the Lifter of our heads.

May the grace that has poured forth from your heart be returned unto you a thousand fold.

Father may it be so, in the name of Your only begotten Son, amen.

 

[Forge3]

A light shines, a voice calls out breaking through the dark wilderness of despair. A voice speaking for those who cannot speak for themselves. Your heart belies your username. You're the piece, the voice, that echoes throughout eternity, that began in the depths of His heart. A voice that joins in a chorus of triumph, of victory.

Having heard His heartcry, you respond with your own; resounding in a cry for the un-seen, the cast aside, the devastated, the plundered, trod upon, dismissed, and not missed.

You are an answer to prayer, a reminder that:

He hears
He sees
He knows
He loves
US,
all of us.

By His tender mercies, by His lovingkindness, by His inexplicable grace, I lift you up, just as you lift up those who are too weary to lift their eyes to the one Who is the Lifter of our heads.

May the grace that has poured forth from your heart be returned unto you a thousand fold.

Father may it be so, in the name of Your only begotten Son, amen.

Amen

May write something later.

 

[brinny]

lookin' forward to it brother.

 

[brinny]

Since I'm editing....I'll just share what just made my mouth drop open...I'm listening to the radio. The announcer just mentioned that he happened to see Steven Curtis Chapman on tv singing at a church he was visiting and they had televised it. And he (the announcer) was taken aback because Steven was wearing a tie, because he hardly ever wears a tie.

Ooookay, my thought was this...why would you even notice whether he had a tie on? weren't you listening to what he was singing? Weren't you joining in the praise and worship? You were taken aback by something so mundane as the presence of a tie?!! That's your summary of the experience and what stuck out in yer mind worthy of mentioning on the air?!!

I confess I find this announcer irritating. Is smoke comin' outta my nostrils? *commences to mumbling incomprehensible non-sensical vowel sounds*

 

[brinny]

continued...

He irritates me. Maybe it's because what he finds earth-shaking is so far removed from any real dilemma. Has he ever had a crisis in his life? Would he understand someone else's? Does he know there are those out here who face crisis where their life is hanging by a thread and they're so beaten down they're not sure they even care if they make it? They're just too soul-weary? And he is taken aback by Steven Curtis Chapman wearing a tie?!!

Somebody shoot me.

 

[Forge3]

Oh Divine majesty who is full of great might and power
whose mercy falls on us like gentle rain on a young flower
whereby each and according to your gifts we shine
And as mirrors reflecting the love that is divine
May we clear our tables of clutter even the least
to make room for the banquet, the wedding feat.

 

[brinny]

His grace shines through brother in what you write, like ethereal jewels.

 

[Forge3]

His grace shines through brother in what you write, like ethereal jewels.

WE are as ethereal Jewls in His eyes

 

[brinny]

Aah, yes, i believe His Word mentions something like that...thanks for the reminder....reminds me of that verse in "Amazing Grace"

 

[fleamailman]

repost from elsewhere, new

"...basically, either I reply to a post, or come up with something to post, like everyone else here does I imagine..." mentioned the goblin, adding "...but then if I like what I have written I store it away elsewhere too, replacing any username or forumname with xxxxx or xxxxxforum in it place just to keep the work anonymous, after which, I then look around for a picture that either underscores or contrasts the work, and finally I repost the work again to a different forum's edit thread rewording it as I go along and ironing out those typos where spotted...", just that the goblin took his posting life seriously and understood that forumland was like a forest, where being a forest then, if one didn't have some strong sense of direction within it one would soon lose one's way, those years would pass and the many thousands of discarded posts later, one's being here would have meant absolutely nothing with nothing to show for it too, saying "...if one writes, one polishes one's texts and exacts one's ideas to oneself in doing so, storing the external result upon the forum itself, and the internal lessons within one's mind as if on a journey to self perhaps, but the time passes and the muse does not forgive those who discard their posts here, for their fate is well deserved with only themselves to blame..."