write something nonsensical, surreal, silly.

[fleamailman]

("...well brinny, as long as the christians don't care to discern the devil's deception amongst them, they will think that they are rendering unto ceasar instead, not true though, for in this day and age that ceasar is taking you to war shortly..." replied the goblin, a heretic perhaps, but his eyes were his own, where he felt he was placed on this earth to witness)

repost from elsewhere

the goblin was just thinking about the man yesterday, the man who had sat across him at lunchtime that is, wondering if it really had been that something within the goblin now that had called the man towards him then, after all it just seemed another poignant coincidence after writing about the witchdoctor in his last post, the memory resurged again "...tell me, those six tattooed numbers, they are..., ...", "...real goblin, yes three and half years, two death marches between three camps then..." he just repeated the camp names but only auschwitz registered, continuing "...I'm czech myself, I was 15 when we were finally liberated in 1945...", he looked years younger than the 82 he had to be now, he laughed "... later the soviets made us enemies too, but I managed to leave legally, and now I stay in rather better accommodation it seems...", the best hotel in geneva the goblin noted, "...are you jewish goblin...", "...I'm probably either lutheran, or church of England but it's like that joke barry humpries tells, you know "yes, I'm church of england, I wash my car on sunday"...", "...well I wash mine on saturday then...", he didn't seem at all religious, and the goblin wanted to ask so much more but convention was against him again, so he just asked "...what did it teach you...", "...oh, just to live each day one at a time I suppose..." and with that the goblin changed the subject as was expected of him, but something had transcended his dailylife again, so perhaps the witchdoctor was right then after all, perhaps one does call these things towards one as this certainly seemed beyond the goblin's norm here

62

 

[brinny]

flea, i was not disagreeing with your quite accurate assessment of what's goin' on....but yu did mention da devil and well, i gots ta speak up cuz he goes a li'l deeper than that, my friend. Your assessments, otherwise, are right on target and quite heroic in a sense.

 

[brinny]

writing, after all, is for the purpose of winning hearts, souls, and minds, isn't it? Mustn't it speak to the one reading it? Otherwise what good is it? An exercise in me-ism?

 

[Forge3]

Winning hearts by expressing what lies deep in the heart that is universal to all. For instance I know piercing loneliness, depression and hope. And Brinny I have a very rich inner life to the point that most do not know. Sometimes it seems so deep that I feel out of touch with the general flow of the world around me. And I will engage in small talk to keep myself grounded for the moment. But at the same time my lofty visions are not always soothing because I see them but am not there yet. And at times they feel so hard to reach because of the attachments I still have.

 

[fleamailman]

("...love the stuff that's universal to all that deep within then..." replied the goblin, guessing that Forge3 had to be one of those canadian rastafarians then, adding "...yes I prefer those who know to those who believe, a bit like seeing ghosts isn't it, or having a splitting headache, for how does one ever describe it to those who have no experience of either now...", and with that the goblin journey to self here would continue till his soul was ready, saying "...well, apparently it's not ready quite yet so you're stuck with me now...")

repost from elsewhere

The beat of one's heart, or of one's drum and the effects, depends if your a Drum major. Do you not get drunk as blazes, through the mere thought of what revelry daily life can bring. To think the long headed goblin, has gone soft mmmm....

and with that the goblin could only agree, "...well, the difference between me and a madman is that I try to make the most of my madness, for only a dyslexic, one such as I would swim out across the ocean of the written word here then, that's me then, and what an ocean it is for sure..."

37

 

[brinny]

some lives are like this, flea, in various guises, but nevertheless the misery and suffering is parallel....what sayest thou, my gifted friend?

The Little MatchGirl- Disney - YouTube

 

[fleamailman]

"...pain to open the eyes, brinny, for perhaps one doesn't the notice elephant without it..." replied the goblin

Beautiful Video - I AM BLIND HELP ME! - Power Of words - YouTube

 

[Forge3]

Oh Jesus you guide us to unity this I know
We are as many snowflakes but become snow
We await this promise from the seerds you sow.
I cannot even describe your love with all my skill
words pale before truth as efforts before your will
Yet we are all one family all meant as one nation
Even as the word paradise means beyond separation
A fractured family with many a goal
But only in thee to be made whole.

 

[brinny]

"...pain to open the eyes, brinny, for perhaps one doesn't the notice elephant without it..." replied the goblin

Beautiful Video - I AM BLIND HELP ME! - Power Of words - YouTube

I've seen this video flea, and it was a kind thing to re-write the words, indeed. It would've been kinder still to give him something.

Would you interpret your response to my above post, my friend?

 

[brinny]

Oh Jesus you guide us to unity this I know
We are as many snowflakes but become snow
We await this promise from the seerds you sow.
I cannot even describe your love with all my skill
words pale before truth as efforts before your will
Yet we are all one family all meant as one nation
Even as the word paradise means beyond separation
A fractured family with many a goal
But only in thee to be made whole.

Inexplicable truth there my friend and exquisitely expressed.

 

[Forge3]

Thanks. I think I may be getting out of my dry spell

 

[brinny]

you were in a dry spell? There was no evidence of it

 

[fleamailman]

I've seen this video flea, and it was a kind thing to re-write the words, indeed. It would've been kinder still to give him something. Would you interpret your response to my above post, my friend?

"...just what I said brinny, it's pain to open the eyes, suffering is all around and often one doesn't notice it because one hasn't suffered in the same way, so she taught the blind man what to write, yes but more importantly she taught the onlooker too..." mentioned the goblin, adding "...ceaser is taking us to war brinny yet I won't render unto him, just be strong, bare witness to it, as it's already started with a currency war, so the next step is a trade war, but lets see if I'm wrong before we go on form there then..."

 

[brinny]

it IS painful to open the eyes, yet perhaps we must? Surely this is not living, is it?

By the way, the woman didn't show the blind man what to write, he cannot see....

 

[fleamailman]

goblin's blog, stardate, some years back

46)Bomb scare at the airport, the goblin's bus got to deathrow where he was told "...so sorry you are not allowed in the terminal because you are not a transit passenger and non-transit people have to use the phone or internet to make their own arrangements...", the goblin went round to the another door at the other end of the terminal where, using a French accent, "..oui, I came form the Exeter..." while stroking a non-existent mustache and juggling non-existent balls, enters. Inside the goblin got one of the last three seats for the last flight to Geneva but that he would need to get to Pratwick for it. Grabbing a coffee and two bickys from the BA soup kitchen set up outside, the goblin eats half of one and gives up, pays for another bus ride and gives the second bicky to the bus driver politely suggesting that he eats it later, perhaps much later. Upon arrival the queue resembles the yellow brick road, until finally at the desk the lady says"... would you like to put your keys, wallet, ticket and passport in this plastic bag, the rest we can put in the hold for you..." the goblin nods "...did you pack this bag yourself..." the goblin nods off "... any sharp object..." the goblin's head wobbles, gorps, etc., till she hands him the tickets, saying "...upstairs, follow the departure signs...", queues, queues, queues till finally on the plane the girls announces "...we are sorry for the delay but we have to remove some bags holdside of the people who haven't up...". Stuck on the plane with nothing to read the goblin wonders why the woman even bothers to ask for ones attention while she explains the usual safety drill so the goblin then puts his hand up and asks "...excuse me miss but what if the person next to me is a terrorist..." .

 

[fleamailman]

repost from elsewhere, the goblin's blog

53) "...the action is the reward in itself.." murmured the goblin while hotly rubbing the hand of his mother between his hands, mind you by now he could have said anything, she smiled like a baby, long and slow, then dad would hold the straw to her lips, a sip, encouraging words like "...have some more, you know the more liquid you drink the better...", a tissue wiped the spillage and straw was returned to her mouth and the action repeated as everyone knows nursing home are dry places. The goblin's mind raced back to hospital ward a few weeks before and the unvisited toothless twitching woman on the next bed to his mother's, the nurse came to her with a cup of tea and a large needleless syringe and repeatedly squirted small amounts of the liquid from the cup into her mouth, somehow they both seemed emotionless.

 

[fleamailman]

repost from elsewhere

"...does it matter what others think, when they will just think it anyway, and where the more you ask them to respect your views the less they will do so now, why, because in asking them you have shown your own uncertainty..." mentioned the anonymous goblin once more, adding "...but let me explain to you the world of adults here, where most probably, like me, someone depends on you too, therefore there can be no real independence on the outside of oneself now, so instead, as an adult one builds up a sense of inner detachment and acceptance, moreover it's a garden of secrecy that needs to be cultivated from tender age too, built on lies and deception even, yet instead most people are surface dwellers here, swayed by trinkets and trappings, that's their choice perhaps, your choice too, until somewhere along the line one stumbles across that garden again, one's journey to self within perhaps, which is also our journey to death too, but a journey all the same...", just that the late season told the goblin to burn the autumn's leaves in that garden now..."

155 916http://www.christianforums.com/misc.php?do=whoposted&t=7670171 11821

 

[fleamailman]

repost from elsewhere

"...drinking is just an acceptably slow form of suicide where one drowns oneself in drink in some need of escape here, only to be washed back as a wreck afterwards to a dailylife that one just grows to hate steadily the more by it..." mentioned the goblin quite wise of alcoholism in others by now, adding "...no, occasionally I'll drink a glass of white wine myself, but I've seen enough people around me knowingly drink themselves to death like this, and yet, on the other hand, it does takes guts to face the diminished returns of an old age in utter sobriety, yet my attitude is that either this life is actually mine to discard or it's just a prison that keeps me here...", simply the goblin was pointing out that having a good innings is most commendable but that clinging to one's innings at any cost was a prison of one's own making that was best well avoided

157

 

[fleamailman]

repost from elsewhere, new, the "why do you write" thread

"...well no, actually I wanted to be a normal person..." started the goblin, continuing "...but then that muse came along, proposing her little journey to self idea to me adding all that I had to do was sign of the dotted line of some pact that went honesty, a shared life, and a thick skin, which was really her excuse for setting up shop in my mind I guess, accompanied by this slot here that keeps asking me to feed it posts now...", in fact, the goblin was quite far gone and probably mad yet as long as he said he was a writer instead, most humans just took pity on him thinking how fortunate they obviously were in comparison

xxxx

 

[brinny]

Actions speak louder than words.

Video | LIFEToday.org

"And if thou draw out thy soul to the hungry, and satisfy the afflicted soul; then shall thy light rise in obscurity, and thy darkness be as the noonday:" ~Psalm 58:10