oh how I hate editing posts, so let's do it together

repost from elsewhere,

"...no one is immune from this, and despite what they say on the mass media I don't think other countries can stay afloat if america goes under now..." mentioned the goblin clearly, adding "...so the television coverage owes us the truth in my view, and yet instead of giving us the facts about the true extent of this current global downturn at this point, the media is being used to prop up this fake status quo, loathed to remind us of just how bad things really are in fear that we'll swaps over channels in dismay, so no news is good news perhaps, yet really bad news just becomes an unmentionable truth here, where we are just as much to blame for our own deception as the media is for giving us only that which we are will to watch..."


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repost from elsewhere

geneva is a small place, and walking across from the bridge on a dull warm day, became the last time the goblin would ever meet him, his friend from denmark, the dane then, simply, it was while waiting for the homeward bus, the ensuing conversation between them had turned around to the moment where the dane just confided "...actually I don't want to go home tonight goblin, my life is shit and I'm in a real mess so I am going to a friend's...", the goblin replied "...look there's that AA place almost opposite from where you live, they'd listen and sort it out for you, well at least get some advice there then, and no one would know, would they...", but what was happening to the dane now, somehow the goblin both knew and felt, wasn't the actual alcoholism, no, the dane was stalling his own life into a tailspin here, the dane was "ending it", and now while looking at the dane's face the goblin could see, or had recollections of, those others that the goblin had known, as ever hiding behind their uniform reassuring expressions as that "exit plan" was taking over inside them, so again the voice in the goblin's mind just went "...no, it's always the ones that never mention it by name...", as the goblin then watched the dane calmly cross the road before him as if walking out of this life too


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repost from elsewhere

"...rotten cold, oh how this is thanks for nothing..." said the goblin, who by nature was a passive friendly sensitive type, yet with his infuriating cold he felt that perhaps, playing rometotalwar as a crazed murderous bloodthirsty general at the head of a roman army storming those ancient worlds one or two at a time, had in fact some understandable appeal to it, and therefore his rallying speech would probably be "...men, the road to rome and final victory is marked in mucus, I augustus fleamailman will show you that no common cold can ever stop us..." while sneezing his last into the paper towel


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repost from elsewhere

another stepback in time as the goblin suddenly hears the music from the film beauty and the beast, where he remembers his daughter crying at the beast's near death and her joy at beast's living on, and then changing back into a man too, but in fact if disney, or the author for that matter, had understood women better, they would have had beauty finally saying "...you are very nice but you are no longer my beast..." which the goblin felt to be more womanlike


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repost from elsewhere

"...not today perhaps..." said the goblin who had been thinking that, although it is raining outside, any idea of space travel this morning is off in that each planet, and even each sun for that matter, was moving through space meaning that one would have to keep a constant eye on one's destination knowing that once there it would be very hard to find one's way back even if there were a friendly alien to help out, something like "...excuse me sir alien I am trying to get to geneva, which is large collection of buildings we call a city, a city because it has a an empty large structure called a cathedral for sightseeing, which is in a country called switzerland, which in fact isn't a country at all, but a confederation of little counties, which is in turn surrounded by lots more countries but is anyway all one landmass that no one cares to call an island because it is surrounding by the sea which makes our planet blue to look at, being the third planet from the nearest sun in our galaxy quite near the milky way, thanks...", "...ah but you're an earthling, welcome to our neck of the woods then, ah geneva you say, you just take the third galaxy to the right, the second sun and it's the third planet, good luck then, do come again and "have a nice day"..." to which the goblin instinctively knew that if he followed those instructions he would just end up at mcdonalds as happens with hapless tourists whenever they ask directions here, nope the goblin feels that perhaps this morning he'll give space-tourism a miss then

your escape link mortals


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repost from elsewhere

the goblin could relate to the slot, which was a lie since he's usually daydreaming instead, at times the goblin needed a break as if to step a few feet back from the canvas to see if what he was portraying was still the big picture in his view while at other times the goblin needed to get up real close to outline its finer details "...the problem starts when one goes too far in either direction where the portrayal becomes "distant" on the one hand or where it becomes "over detailed" on the other, yet this slot never minds, do you now...", the slot, eying the goblin's coffee again, replied "...not at all goblin, I'll swallow anything of offer and still be hungry afterwards..." and then smiling the slot just adds "...in fact, it's amazing goblin that you even try to get the essence of your existence into your posts each time, surely you must know how impossibly futile that must be...", "...well slot, I just like these odds I guess..." replied as the goblin as if wondering if, like in the film then, he too, could somehow throw a huge washbasin through those bars of dailylife, except unlike the film there was nowhere to go out from there, it was dailylife wherever one was, no, it was just trying then, and the goblin was still trying too


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repost from elsewhere

the goblin looks up from the laptop out the window where the cold but sunny Chamonix afternoon shows a man with some muscular disorder erratically trying to help himself up onto the curb from a wheelchair where his carer hasn't quite got the knack it seems, so the goblin thinks nothing of it till the carer succeeds in getting the front wheels up and where in her first step it hits the goblin that she too limps badly, after which they then cross slow clumsy loving glances at one another and then laugh happily on their way together as it nothing had happened, that is, as if they were no different from anyone else, which of course they weren't any different, save perhaps that the goblin had now caught a bit of their happiness in his post here he felt, goblins often stole from life like this, "...we're not to be trusted you know..." whispered the goblin again with a smile


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repost from elsewhere

"...am I sad, no not me.." said the goblin adding "... but there are times when being profound has usually some tinge of regret to it...", the goblin had somehow noticed that whenever one stared at some infinite, ones own insignificance would come to the fore, as if the reward of some increased awareness was often an increased humility to go with it


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repost from elsewhere

the goblin appreciated everyone's winning posts here, saying "...we should all win at times and all are welcome to try now..." and with that the goblin went back to his own thoughts and goal, of getting that which is within him out into slot's awaiting mouth, "...muse, couldn't I just rubber stamp anything you came up with..." he asked her "...goblin, the point of our little pact is your figuring out this short life for yourself, where the writing about it is you proving to yourself that you think and see a little deeper than what your dailylife and that moneygod want you to...", "...sounds rather subversive muse...", the goblin eyed the clock in hope for some more time, but the muse just smiled "...so goblin, are we talking about subversive or submissive here, because that choice comes down to our pact doesn't it, you choose then..." the muse had put it perfectly again, as the slot just looked on and swallowed, remarking “...just keep those doubts coming goblin, I'm ever hungry...”, as the goblin just shrugged pressing the post button once more


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repost from elsewhere

early evening, and the moneygod has now released his lackey goblin to his own devices, usually meaning a tromp to the bistro, a coffee and the "last post" threads where, caffeine and WIFI permitting, the goblin will regain some semblance of sanity simply by trying to write it all out of his system, yet the more the goblin wrote about dailylife, the more that disparity became obvious to him, his dailylife was not his sum total then, but against that it was as if that line "what in one's life is worth posting" just bugged him knowing that the moment the goblin replied to himself "...nothing, so I won't post anymore..." that the goblin would simply be dead before his death too, another mind drowned in its dailylife now


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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..."


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("...I am upping the hitcount from 15hits per post to twenty now, thanks for reading me then..." went the goblin)

repost from elsewhere

"...no, only the dead have had their last post here and had won outright..." the goblin mentioned, continuing "...the rest of us are still winning by posting on..." concluded the goblin with a clogged voice, and with that the goblin slowly readied for his work whereas outside the day, still rising out its darkness, at least promised to be bright and clear, "...for this in the only day I have now, and just like this being last post on this thread then, this is actually my last day in my life too..." said the goblin well aware that by now yesterday had gone whereas tomorrow might not come, saying "...by this post am I, and by continuing I continue too, that's all I suppose, ah but that's everything too..."


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repost from elsewhere

valentine's day and love plays little part in the goblin's life these days, or was it more perhaps that the line between "love" and "duty" had blurred to the point where he could say that he loved someone, or something, but that it was not anything like the love he once known, where being in love was an all engulfing fire from within, "...I love my family, and would die for them, I love work knowing that I will work till they no longer need me, I love forumland too and the growth of one's alter ego by the practice of posting, yes but all this, and everything else, seems me being in control as an adult now, or at least as someone of my age should be..." the goblin paused, and sighed "...ah no, uncontrolled passionate love was me a long time ago, sadly I have grown wise to love..."


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Very very nice. love Reading your poems!

 

("...well I like being here..." replied the goblin thanking jimmyjoe1)

repost from elsewhere

the goblin's life revolved around him, so he couldn't help being caught up in it he felt, "...ah, my goal in this life is to become the eye of the storm that this life so resembles today..." he explained, as if looking at the weathered elements of his own declining existence, "...ah, but if that same eye could also be one that sees too..." he smiled trying to get it right, continuing "...then this storm would be worth it for opening my eyes..."


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repost from elsewhere

the goblin hailed the queen of the zombies for her presence "... yes, a cheap person might be dissuaded by an argument of life's futility, that, or by some grand promise of heaven or some dire threat of hell..." said that goblin who made a point of caring far less for what lies ahead of him than for caring for that which lied within him, so the goblin continued "...so don't you want to know who you are by what you post then in spite of there being no point perhaps..."


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continued repost from elsewhere, same thread

"...no one can tell me for sure who I am, but perhaps a reflection of who I am is shown of me in what I do in my dailylife and shown of my alter ego within the words I choose to write here upon the forum..." said the goblin knowing that an awareness is grown from facing the slot like this, he continued "...the conditioning of dailylife and the moneygod are exactly those which make one blind to oneself, and insensitive to others, so simply that constant question of "what in my life is worth posting" is not a religion so much just a counter conditioning tool here,...", and with that the goblin thought back to the lupusbots site's "last post" thread wondering what someone could give anyone in their situation beyond listening and knocking them off last place on the "last post" thread there then, but they always posted back


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the goblin felt he now had to put a little bit more into his cassarole, perhaps the goblin would do a few more cooking shows and then be on Dr Oz, somehow he was not ready to become a piano player for the Grateful Dead, goblin was sure there was a curse on the band.. this gave the gobln an idea to jump into a Van Halen song and change everything to himself, he was normally crazy like David Lee Roth but couldnt hit the hit note without getting kicked in the nuts. The goblin didnt like that and simply quit running with the devil.

 

("...definitely your best post yet orison319 on this forum..." replied the goblin, adding "...see you can write and illustrate when you really put your heart into it...")

repost from elsewhere, a "last post" thread

"...oh yes, anyone can steal the "last post" crown by posting a simple "I win" post here..." said the goblin continuing "...and yet that crown would simply be lost to the next poster in the queue and the post itself rightly forgotten for being just another "I win" post...", so the goblin saw this "last post" thread, and moreover the game itself, in terms of creating one's posts each time, instead of just winning per say, saying "...for me, it's as if that same "last post" crown gained jewels by one's effort now, but the crown itself has little value, just only its jewels have value..."


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

Quote (xxxxx)

Quote(xxxxx)

the goblin noted that life was like keep on keeping on, "...one could give up but it would still be here carrying on without one, like this blank space waiting for one's post..." but he feared he was being too intellectual again, besides his mind was now sidetracked to the scene where doctor frankenstein calls out to igor "...another power surge, another power surge then, it's coming alive..." and in a flash the goblin deduced how the author mary shelley got her idea in the first place


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