write something nonsensical, surreal, silly.

[fleamailman]

("...btw does anyone else think I'm being too religious tonight..." ventured the goblin, adding "...yes, me too, brinny can I go back to being mad then, that way I can set a bad example, where if you feel that you know everything already, I'll believe you, yet me, I know I don't know nearly as much as I should where I could give up my journey wherever but I'd be lying to myself if I thought that knew for a moment what I know, yes it's a big elephant, very mysterious and wondrous, with lots of secrets to someone with as limited capacity as myself...")

repost from elsewhere,

"...well slot, if those writers want the goblin's power of absentmindedness, they will have to practice daydreaming, but living in geneva helps, as does growing old I suppose..." ventured the goblin as the slot swallowed the lines saying "...goblin, they're coming out, encourage them further and they'll surprise themselves with what they actually post here...", "..slot, is this another one of your devious ploys to get yourself fed with yet more posts again...", "...well yes goblin, it's that or I'm stuck with your one man show on this forum...", the goblin pondered, looked across at the falling rain outside and then ventured "...OK slot, if you put it like that I'll tell them, besides, I promised admin I would grow members here but first..., ..." he reaches over for his coffee, continuing "...well perhaps, the secret to writing is a bit like judo in that one has to first fall losing one's own balance making one's opponent lose his too only then does one regain one's balance to finish off the throw, simply if one doesn't loose oneself within one's own plot, the reader won't fall for it either, so the storyteller throws himself headlong into a situation for others to fall for it too..." at which point the unforgiving clock at the bar shouted "...time goblins please..." as the scene closed up for the night once more

72

 

[brinny]

("...does anyone think I'm being too religious tonight..." ventured the goblin, adding "...yes, me too, brinny can I go back to being mad then, that way I can set a bad example...")

repost from elsewhere,

"...well slot, if those writers want the goblin's power of absentmindedness, they will have to practice daydreaming, but living in geneva helps, as does growing old I suppose..." ventured the goblin as the slot swallowed the lines saying "...goblin, they're coming out, encourage them further and they'll surprise themselves with what they actually post here...", "..slot, is this another one of your devious ploys to get yourself fed with yet more posts again...", "...well yes goblin, it's that or I'm stuck with your one man show on this forum...", the goblin pondered, looked across at the falling rain outside and then ventured "...OK slot, if you put it like that I'll tell them, besides, I promised admin I would grow members here but first..., ..." he reaches over for his coffee, continuing "...well perhaps, the secret to writing is a bit like judo in that one has to first fall losing one's own balance making one's opponent lose his too only then does one regain one's balance to finish off the throw, simply if one doesn't loose oneself within one's own plot, the reader won't fall for it either, so the storyteller throws himself headlong into a situation for others to fall for it too..." at which point the unforgiving clock at the bar shouted "...time goblins please..." as the scene closed up for the night once more

72

as i have stated in the past (well not that long ago) it appears you have unwittingly wandered into the realm of the wounded, flea. And as it perhaps is well known, the wounded see past charades and their gazes can be quite piercing, but not unkind. We are equipped after blood, sweat, and tear-soaked battles to recognize glimmers of truth and to bring them to Light, against great odds. We speak the truth, come hell or high water. For it is in truth where life is found. And that is our quest, to extend the Light of the Life that was given to us. As we live and breathe, it is what we do until we breathe our last, because silence, my friend can be deadly.

 

[fleamailman]

("...so let us live against death and post against silence..." replied the goblin like brinny's wording, adding "...keep me company then, I'll listen to you and can share with me that which is within you, for my role is to listen where yours is whatever you set you heart upon, where either way this thread has a cut off point where I'm anonymous, just proof of my sincerity and selfishness...")

repost from elsewhere, the woman's interests "last post" thread

"...of course a man will jump into the burning building, or the coldest of seas, to rescue you, just like he will fight for those he loves, and for whatever he feels to be right too, and no doubt even die for anything where his reason tells him that must do so, only that this sentiment has nothing to do with "love" per say, no, the sentiment is towards his benchmark of "death" and his altruistic deathwish then..." the goblin explained a bit more, saying "...are not war, exploration, self sacrifice, and adventure, in part, based on a man's benchmark of death here, where living on without pride is not the default benchmark of a man, no, somewhere within him is this deathwish that tells him, that to die for something is in itself a release from that self doubt and self condemnation at having to "live on", yes, to actually die for something becomes the vindication to himself or a veneration towards it, simply he will always go back into those flames, that sea, etc., if left to his own choice, so the roll of society in general, and his family too, has been to keep him out of harm's way, as if diverting for attention, appeasing his ego, for otherwise, left alone, a feeling of inadequacy towards himself or his lot takes over, in short, a man needs a reason to "live on" here, meaning that to live isn't the default "on" as one might think, no, the default in an average man is actually set to "off" as in must die for it or I'm not a man, where simply the opportunity was constantly denied to him...", in fact, wherever the goblin looked now, he saw this default "off" working in practice, unmentioned, unacceptable perhaps, but all so evident when one could recognise its features, the romance of death is a man's default "off" within him

60

 

[fleamailman]

repost from elsewhere, life's angels again

"...everyone thinks, that they could have amounted to more then, overlooking what they have already amounted to, simply, the fact that they have survived till now that is, living is winning then..." mentioned the goblin, who could just as easily flog himself with might have beens conjectures as to throw them all back into the sea of speculation here, adding "...and yet, I wonder if I would have either seen, or posted anything, if I had actually been satisfied with myself and my lot by now, so tell me then, to what do I actually owe my awareness to, to those good things, or to those bad things, in my life, where didn't I really need both..."

61

 

[food4thought]

""I think, therefore I am... confused. Eh, Goblin?" replied the monkey, smiling sadly at the plight of all limited beings. "It seems to me, limited as I am, that looking inward can be a horrifying journey when one finds truth about onesself that belies our good intentions." The monkey stood up again, wincing as his rebellious knees creaked painfully... "Standing in this world, we seek to know and be known, love and be loved; yet there are secret parts of our inward being that we shudder at the thought that they may see the light of day and be revealed for who and what we really are. It is here where my faith is tested... do I trust that God loves me enough to heal those inward demons? Do I trust that He did indeed send His Holy Spirit to dwell in such a dark and evil place as my heart? Does the pure and brilliant Light of the world truly dwell in there somewhere, even when I can't find it?" Thinking that there is more to say, but unsure of how to continue, the monkey "Hmmph'ed" and sat back down...

 

[fleamailman]

(the monkey had stopped the goblin's mind in its tracks, agreeing, knowing that the external was for the internal then and that that external was not one's own anyway, saying "...the more one writes the more the internal pops out, where the more one is here, the more the alter-ego is nurtured by it, so the written words on the screen are as footprints now, I do not fear going inwards for I must learn who I am by what I post...", "...take a journey to self goblin..." voiced the slot in the goblin's ear once more, and somehow the goblin would stare at the slot wanting to conquer forumland regardless of the futility of it)

repost from elsewhere

in fact, the goblin couldn't remember if moriarty too, survived the fall from the top of the reichenbach waterfall, that is to reappear in another sherlock holmes journal later, only that in the original book they both die at that point, but it then turned out that the subscribers to the journal wouldn't accept the loss so doyle was forced to bring back holmes in his next episode, "...but those overall points, that I made in that other post, stand, that recognition can trap an author into compromising and that readers often move on regardless remain even if there is always a wish to be liked and to be supportive on one's part..." mused the goblin, once more late for work, to a backdrop of some ominous rain clouds that hovered above a city that seemed to simply bristle with its own preoccupied boredom, "...morning geneva, well if those scientists have got their sums wrong we're going to be sucked into CERN's black hole today, which would make a change I suppose..." voiced the goblin to the ever unresponsive city street

15

 

[food4thought]

Fearing he might have been misunderstood, the monkey adruptly stood back up, wincing a bit again but surprisingly quick and spry when he needed to be... "It should be noted that I believe that no ammount of self inspection will reveal what is not there. If one has not accepted Christ into His life, the Light of the world is nowhere to be found no matter our diligence in bringing our inner self to the surface." Now, the monkey again found himself afraid of being misunderstood by the goblin... "I do not say this because I think the life of Christ is not in you, goblin, but because I fear that my statements could be understood as saying we ALL have the light within to be found, and that a journey to self is saving regardless of what one does with Christ. HE IS OUR LIGHT, if we find light within us apart from him, it is only that pale reflection of the true Light which is in us all as a result of being made in His image, never to be mistaken for the true Light any more than the moon can be mistaken for the sun. That light (note the lack of capitalization in my speaking here)," smiled the monkey, "will lead us forever inward in search of what we can only find from without, Christ. A journey inward can only lead to greater self understanding and acheive the goals we hope when that expedition is lead by the One who made us... On Christ the solid rock I stand, all other ground is sinking sand, so the saying goes."

Realizing he is both departing on an epic rabbit trail and preaching to the choir at the same time, the monkey shakes his head and sits down, muttering "In many words is much chance for misunderstanding, but in silence there is no hope for any sharing of understanding..."

 

[fleamailman]

(the goblin liked the monkey, replying "...nah, the light of christ is within one still, though the pharisees would have one think it's rituals and tithes and other such externals, yet if you don't think he's at the other end of your pen so be it then fair enough my friend, me I'm not so sure and search for him still, I don't know what I know but I do know it, so this is my homework now, why, because the moment I give up, the next moment returns to remind me that my soul isn't ready and I'm still here, so it's a journey to death and beyond for one and all...")

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

the goblin said "...hello..." and then wanted to continue by saying something really smart, and intellectually awe inspiring, until that very moment when he remembered where he was, and who was probably reading this, so he just improvised the text as he went along, writing slowly she let him undo each reluctant shirt button in turn to his inpatient fumbling fingers, even now, she seemed to be just teasing him with her eyes while his just burned to an intense savage wanting wildness as he pulled her up towards him gently lifting her up ever so slightly up to bury his head in the warmth of where those unfastened buttons were, her arms touched his back then clasped tight as if surrendering to her own emotions towards him once more, and then the goblin said "...now, for the next bit, just add more posting credits to the goblin's account, and thank you ever so much ladies..."

1

 

[food4thought]

(the goblin liked the monkey, replying "...nah, the light of christ is within one still, though the pharisees would have one think it's rituals and tithes and other such externals, yet if you don't think he's at the other end of your pen so be it then fair enough my friend, me I'm not so sure and search for him still, I don't know what I know but I do know it, so this is my homework now, why, because the moment I give up, the next moment returns to remind me that my soul isn't ready and I'm still here, so it's a journey to death and beyond for one and all...")

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

the goblin said "...hello..." and then wanted to continue by saying something really smart, and intellectually awe inspiring, until that very moment when he remembered where he was, and who was probably reading this, so he just improvised the text as he went along, writing slowly she let him undo each reluctant shirt button in turn to his inpatient fumbling fingers, even now, she seemed to be just teasing him with her eyes while his just burned to an intense savage wanting wildness as he pulled her up towards him gently lifting her up ever so slightly up to bury his head in the warmth of where those unfastened buttons were, her arms touched his back then clasped tight as if surrendering to her own emotions towards him once more, and then the goblin said "...now, for the next bit, just add more posting credits to the goblin's account, and thank you every so much ladies..."

1

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhh..... see now we have the answer. You search for Him still... looking for Him. Indeed, one can find Him if He looks." said the monkey, looking kind of surprised. "Of course, unless one knows for Whom they search, the search will go on even after one finds Him."

The monkey sat halfway down, then remembered... "And shame on you for posting soft porn here!" he said laughing at his own prudishness.

 

[brinny]

nah, me thinks flea is a jokester, and such is his defense mechanism to show fer real that postings that are posted here do not in any way shape or form phase him a bit. Of course i could be wrong, as i quite often am, but then again.....

 

[fleamailman]

("...no, I only feared that the thread would go too much in one direction..." lied the goblin, when everyone in fact knew that he was editing his posts, saying "...actually, if I knew why I wrote, then I wouldn't write, where if you think I'm not to be trusted, you try sharing a life with a muse then...")

repost from elsewhere

the witchdoctor lifted up a lone finger, looked across at the goblin again, and continued slowly by saying "...just remember goblin, it's simply divide either of those numbers into seventy...", as if it meant something important, or was supposed to mean something important, while watching the goblin's face, until a slight expression of disappointment replaced the more familiar smile for a moment, as the goblin's expression just remained a solid blanc, listening that is, but still blanc as ever, so the witchdoctor turned his head slightly to the side still looking, regained his smile, and continued, "...knowledge goblin, is not "what you know" but discerning from "what you know" both "what it actually means" and "how it has been presented to you", for example "10% steady growth per year" is an unobtrusive way saying "doubles in seven years" which sounds more shocking doesn't it, but depending on which one you hear of course, you'll register it differently won't you, and that's been their trick all along, and yet once you know it as their trick, simply the spin they give towards something betrays their stance to it and you...", “...yes but what about that seventy bit, what's that all about...”, “...well now, "divide into seventy” is like a currency conversion rate you see in the bank only that this time it's for "the annual growth rate of something to the point where it doubles", that's all, for example take that “10% annual growth rate” again, divide 10 into seventy, and you get seven, that is seven years until it will double, or take “doubles in seven years”, divide 7 into seventy and you get 10, a 10 percent growth rate then, all rather simply don't you think, even if the economists call it the rule of 70 and the conversion rate as a logarithm here, but difficult wording has been their way of hiding their tricks, well till now I suppose, because let's just think that we're borrowing their secret back from them..."

63

 

[brinny]

timing is ev'rything flea.

 

[fleamailman]

repost from elsewhere

by now, the goblin knew subjectively that writing wasn't what most people imaged it to be, whereas most writers too, find out too late that it isn't what they had bargain for either, explaining "...isn't there always a risk of self deception here, that once one has built up some shared life with a muse, and once one had succeeded in whatever goal one envisages too, that one can then simply dump her, unshare one's life, and somehow go back to that superficial surface living like before, yet that's not the way it goes at all, ah no, for this sharing, perhaps like keeping a dream diary, or like those people who see ghosts then, is something where the practice reinforces its sharedness...", where perhaps too the goblin was just one of those fools who hadn't bothered to read the small print of that muse's pact again, the part that went warning, last sanity check: you can't get her back into her bottle once you let her out, are you quite sure you want to go along with this pact then

36

 

[fleamailman]

repost from elsewhere

"...it's a slow process but "facing the slot" somehow has me biting the hand of this dailylife that feeds me..." 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 life'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

 

[fleamailman]

repost from "what are you doing" thread, elsewhere

"...I am trying at this point to have the most wonderfully amazing thought of all my existence that I have ever had where, like a funfair, or like love itself, one has hit the spot with ones mallet at full throttle, and up shots that indicator in a zoom turning on all those lights with it, to a climatic ping as her mechanism explodes like vesuvius over pompey, but if not, I guess I will just enjoy this coffee in the bistro once more..." replied the goblin somehow lamenting that the outside didn't quite reflect the inside now, pity

29

 

[food4thought]

The monkey agrees with the goblin's last post, solemnly contemplating his own failure to bring the inside out into the light. Quietly, he lamented "It seems such a horrible shame that some of our most profound thoughts defy translation into words, to the effect that what moves us most completely in our inward being can seldom be communicated with the same effect to someone else..."

 

[food4thought]

The monkey sat in his corner, chewing on the thought of whether we can truly know what we know to be true, or whether it was all a matter of believing what was presented to us... "What we know to be true... can we define it in a way that makes sense to someone who knows something else entirely to be true for them? Or is it like speaking partly in one language in mundane things, and then suddenly speaking in Cantonese when it comes to those things we hold so dear? Or is the feeding of one's soul the same food all the time going to result in the soul, like a little child, rejecting something different only because it isn't what we usually get?" The monkey sauntered on all fours over to the coffee pot, silently refilling his cup, then blurted "But can one separate what he knows from what he only thinks he knows? I think we can..."

 

[food4thought]

"The soul is innately more wise than some stubborn child" thought the goblin, "making distinctions based on more than familiarity... if one is brave enough to taste all the world has to offer, the soul still longs for that which is really sustaining and healthy."

 

[someguy14]

write something nonsensical, surreal, silly.

In other words, reject God Himself.

 

[food4thought]

Suddenly remembering the purpose of the thread, the monkey sat in the corner and juggled axes coated with cotton candy, quickly taking a bite out of one every so often...