Write Live

("...good to read the posts again, I finally figure out that the forum wasn't dead, it was only that the old links were dead..." went the goblin back to posting again)

 

"Not dead, but what a good thing I have saved all my posts in a secure place, one that doesn't get rid of all when being moved," the little mouse sighs and adds, "Best start reposting from the beginning."

 

"Good morning!" Calls the little mouse. "Soon is sometimes late, but always in time, for time has its own rules and cannot be forced to comply like humans like to so often. All things happen when they are supposed to and one can flow and be happy with in the stream of their consciousness or drown in their sea of sorrow while looking at how they have themselves in the prison of their minds." She laughs and thinks of that one post. "Yes, a repost then too."


"Is this a coming togetherness," asked the little mouse. "... and does that not invite for discussion? For talk, musing or contemplating live, the life of humans and their way of life?" When Martin Luther King said, "Everything that we see is a shadow cast by that which we do not see," did he not try to explain the idea he had on life? Did he not try to bring within the grasp of those surrounding him The Idea of Plato? Did Plato not suggest in his Allegory of the Cave that what mankind sees as reality is in truth a collection of shadows cast on the walls of the cave in which we are imprisoned? And are all humans not imprisoned in the cave of their minds? Do not their own ideas, their philosophies hold them prisoner? And does enlightenment only come when an individual grasps the idea that there is a truth beyond their sense? That truth does not always make sense? Would truth always make sense and humans always have the sense to see those truths ... The little mouse shakes her head and whispers, "Wouldn't that be an ideal world?"

 

("...notifications came through, the layout looks better, and forumland is just waiting I guess..." went the goblin liking that last one, adding "...I've been doing some new posts, though mostly I've been editing the old ones of late, where I still think that, what with our being read mostly on small screen tablets, this livewriting has an enormous potential as only online interactive content could, it's like I look at you and see myself by it, I'll never be known but you, yes I'd like you make big by it...")

 

"As ever the gentle prod to write more life, or live, or even fiction." The little mouse laughs and adds, "But who knows the difference between what's real and what's not? Are humans facing reality or is it all imagination, smoke and mirrors and is life just a big illusion we maintain to be able to cope with daily life? Is daily life a dream, or nightmare, from which one cannot wake up, or is this it and there is nothing one can do that makes a change to the reality of life. Caught in it like a fly in a spider's web, but who's the puppeteer and who's in control? Can one in reality be in control of ones life or is life in control? Isn't reality as real as beauty and only as real as in the eye of the beholder? Ones reality can be very different from the one sitting opposite while watching the same reality streaming by." The little mouse sips her hot coffee and smiles. "Perception again. Perception and the reality in ones mind. What would happen if all humans would perceive reality all in the same way? Wouldn't that make for a perfect world?" She laughs out loud and says, "But there is no such thing as perfection, only life and its reality."

 

("...reads well of course, and like it too..." went the goblin)

 

Dejavu had been banned during the hipforums apocalypse, for who knows what, yet he remained. "Perfection! Why not?" he laughed, pleased to be alive. "I've got my legs, arms, head, and trunk, and here I am venturing to write about it!" But the truth was that though Dejavu was perfectly he and none other, he did not always feel perfect. "If I could only manage to show the world it is in love, I could be with it always..." he mused, wanting to say something that would finish the post off on a light note. Not at once finding his voice, he laughed, and instead put on a track to trail off on...



https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O1VWV70lPnE

 

"What barrier to the perception of love does a dove present," inquired thedope not really expecting an answer but as a preamble to remitting love cannot be taught but it can be given and thus it is shared. There is some wisdom in the desire for love but there is no innocence in managing others and so we feel less than perfect. If the world is in love it needn't be shown but in love it is known. Sorry you go home alone, alone not written in stone but relatively ignorant." Peace friends," greeted thedope, "waits only on us to quit throwing a fit and then we flit pretty on doves wings and lilies perfumes"

 

"I always appear bigger when you seek to belittle me!" laughed Dejavu, looking thedope full in the face, his own countenance radiating simple cheer. "My wisdom sends thanks!" he added. "Love can be taught, if you're withholding nothing... and managed? Well, it's rude of me perhaps to want the whole world in love, but my innocence is as intact as ever!" Dejavu now scrutinized the christian closely. The peace he purported to be waiting on us flitted fleetingly below Dejavus nose, into his perception it loomed, all too perfumed. How free he felt to go alone! "So, thedope, what's going on?"


https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EbSdeGi6qXI

 

thedope surveyed the scene as to surmise what guise this moments going on would take and saw that a puffer fish got puffed up thinking that someone brushing his extremities was somehow a challenge to his stature which might explain why he can't fully inhale the peace right below his nose while beholding himself grow larger in the mirror of appearances. thedope had addressed a comment and saw in it the source of ones feeling less than perfect while all the while insisting he must be, if only... If thedope were addressing Dejavu personally It would be to equalize measures not to deflate Dejavu. "Why would it be necessary then," came thedope," to show the world it is in love if there are no barriers to the perception of love? Where do you not see love that you need to fill in the vacancy of perception in order that you might be in love with them always? An unhealed healer is a contradiction in terms and in this is found the source of perceived lack."

 

"Not necessary at all, and there are no barriers to loves perception. My vain longing to stay, a device! To see the world whole, my innocence! Where you pose poetry about my person, I pan out as potentate! Equalize your heart out!" This unhealed heel thinks he understands the cause for not feeling perfect! laughed Dejavu to himself, knowing no cure to offer him besides his own willingness to laugh about it. "There are many places I don't see love, but then I don't see a barrier to love either!" Dejavus wisdom was so seductive! It never flounced flagrantly from the floor of his feeling, but stood by his thoughts when not dancing on them, in no hurry for his words, but beckoning them besides. "Iris!" he called, welcoming thedopes peace, loving the harmony in everyone.

 

As far as rulers go thedope considered Dejavu a prince as yet without a kingdom however full of hope and laughter. "The barrier to love is in the perception of it, in the many places you do not see it. What is love that it not be there for you to see," wondered thedope. "The "Rainbow is but an octave in a much larger symphony of appreciation," said thedope as he rode the train of innuendo, "with the iris grows also the lily. The iris reflects light in a dazzling prism and the scent of the lily goes out before it invisibly through permeability. To show the whole world that it is in love we mustn't withhold our view from any corner. This has nothing to do with rulers but the fact that the whole world in love can't be seen from the conditional perspectives of love and not love but only from being in love."

 

Never one to gild the lily, Dejavu beheld all till he felt himself far from beholden. "Look away, life's gift's not golden in entirety, but grave!" spoke misgiving, "You are slave to self!" At which desire piped up, "No better fate, do come, let's sup upon the fact you're self in full, and not in vain does longing pull you here to stay, so look alive! Eternity, the dream, can thrive on anything, let us grow roots for endless change, undreamt of shoots, bold branchings into undiscovered reaches where one's own beloved lives, is wedded, and lives on. Deaths dominion simply... gone." But at this, incredulity said scathingly "What fool is he that dreams ahead, thus left with words? Pure imagination girds no loins, nor ever leaves the lasting that one's after." Love laughed, casting looks around, and whispered, smiling, " Yes, in time your I's are dialling my own line, but wait not here! Service is yourselves, not dear departed modes of reasoning. See it if you please and bring to bear that I am reasons lead. Join me and there's no misdeed!"

 

thedope was glad that the extended silence had ended and the souls searched for had returned to carry on waywardly together after all...

 

Sat in her living room with the telly on as background pretend company, almost as it was before. "Different times, different place, same person," says the little mouse. "Can one really change? Is the desire to change enough to actually force the change in ones being. Can one mould ones self to suit another or can that illusion only last as long as one can patch old sores with the patch of love? What happens when love gets tainted with the past? Can one shed the past, shed the 'old skin' and re-invent ones-self or will ones self always shine through?" The little mouse sighs as she knows the answer.

 

"...only love can hurt like this," sings the little mouse as she cries her eyes out and thinks of love lost, of what could have been. No, what should have been the best thing that has ever happened in her life, but it broke and couldn't be repaired, no amount of sticky tape could hold it together once it tore to pieces and now she sits in her silent, lifeless living room and gazes at her hollow reflection for the heart is gone and can't be replaced. There is no coping with this, not even the will to go out and try to cope, there is just survival when one is left with nothing.

 

One is never left with nothing. Turn the head left. Behold. Turn the head right. Behold. Turn the body 180. Behold. Move. Move again. And

yet again. See it yet?? Infinate paths abide. Choose and go. Go now.

 

... and i'm gone.

 

("...I'll be here on your return though..." replied the goblin who had been fight people elsewhere, adding "...no, it's so much easier to be myself when fighting still than when I am finally accepted by them..."_

 

"I too", said Dejavu, feeling for lucky. "We're all alone here..." he whispered to his friends, and the wide world also. "But we needn't be..."