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

An answer is only as direct as the one who hears it and the persons I find always as personable as I might be. I am high enough not to disturb any lines drawn in the sand, or more importantly for myself that I don't trip over them replied thedope. What was he on about, planting seeds. Spring kisses these parts early and the frogs tells me when as they saturate the evening air with a crickety ringing. Just three days ago the mourning doves began cooing courtship after being silent during the cold lean months. The day before yesterday three band tailed pigeons came storming in hot and you could practically here their relief as they lighted abruptly on a madrona tree above me like lint hitting tacky paper, ruffling their feathers and sighing as if to say we made it. They nest here and they have an appointment with the earlier rising sun. Seems Dejavu had known thedope well enough even if he didn't understand him.

 

("...loved that post for its fluidity of imagery and imagination thedope, just as I did dejavu's matched post before that..." went the goblin thinking how nice it was to be writing off the beaten tracks of the those conformist writer's forums here, saying "...yes, I know that the real battle is the battle for acceptance upon writers forum for those readers gather in even increasing numbers there, yet it is just that then, a battle with them each time, whereas here I sense that, as long as the post itself contains no malice towards anyone, I can freely write anything about anything, yes and I suppose too, that that is why I remain here..." )

 

repost from elsewhere

the goblin liked the reply, smiling "...ah, the talent is clear in this one...", in fact, something in xxxxx's writing style spoke "young writer" to the goblin so he explained something from experience now, saying "...the muse's pack goes honesty, a shared life, and a thick skin, where there's no halfway house about it, simply that the muse does not go back into her bottle after those works are written, so writers end up living shared lives, just imagine any fiction writer you like and then consider what kind of mind he or she must have to write both as fluidly and as vividly as they do now, and how their imagination must work overtime then, where obviously they all live their books in their minds both before, while, and even afterwards too, so it's a shared life then, well do you still want to be a writer with a shared life, you're mad if you do, yet just perhaps madness is more imaginative and that you're inner life is richer for being mad by it..."


54 702 12714

 

"Well enough for what I wonder" said Dejavu, not knowing what was wanted of his undertstanding for thedope to have said he didn't understand him. "Be a martyr to my ignorance then!" he called out.

 

thedope remembered when the goblin came on the scene and he recalled the goblin being admired straight away thinking he had a peer in a certain port of thought on a sea of consideration. When you use symbols a lot they can become highly distilled and goblin had applied himself to the art are creative musing although I think he fancied himself a writer. Well the writer goblin finds himself self time again faced with the tedium of doing it by the book and I can sense a heartfelt appreciation for this venue. Certainly what reader would not enjoy a chance to discuss things with the author and the author in turn experience a measure of his own authority.
thedope came here precisely because he was not a writer. It is a venue where we can take it or leave it in utter safety with no pressure to satisfy, unless you imagine that someone holds you to account or otherwise has the potential to pay your rent. If thedope appeared to write well at times it is because he was generally well composed. thedope posts on no other forums but is engaged in many quorums. thedope's friend Dejavu would have them tickling trout.
And as to Dejavu and his dionysian crusade against sacrifice, thedope hopes Dejavu doesn't have to contend with disease at some point. thedope knows that sacrificial giving is a contradiction in terms that engenders only resentment. What would thedope have Dejavu stand over, well his grave of course, better over than in. What is beyond symbols... vibration, luminosity, unbound enthusiasm, i.e. joy.

 

"Thedope is here precisely because he is not a writer?!" Dejavu grinned, knowing he'd never grin at the lid, which wasn't to say he mightn't laugh over it. "What precision! What a typist!" thedopes seeming to equate disease with 'sacrificial giving', a contradiction in terms like he said... did thedope resent him? He felt so, and why else his speechifying? Was it Dejavus talents? His friendships? His life? Was thedopes talk of 'magnanimous intent' in other threads hiding something he felt to be lacking of his own magnanimity? Dejavu didn't think so, or didn't want to at least, just as he didn't wish to find at the bottom of thedopes claim to 'energetic expression' the fervour found in those who forsake their own fundament. My friend? thedope did not know what 'Dionysus against the crucified' meant. Nor should he if he doesn't want to, thought Dejavu. Dejavu looked again at the sad stuff about standing over ones grave. What grave? He wondered. A call for levity perhaps on the part of a person who 'apparently' felt no push to impart his personability. "Yes, I hope it's fun enough for you too thedope!" he exclaimed, "The cake of your own making!"

 

Of all the people that thedope had ever talked to and they have been multitudes, Dejavu made it seem that one could live forever if they just had enough gumption or caring to do so. thedope was immediately taken aback when he first heard Dejavu speak, so much so that he sent him a private message to inquire as to if he had found something that was not usually around for us to pick up on. Dejavu declined to inspire thedope on that question. So not so much the voice of experience but of youthful enthusiasm thedope surmised.
Yes thedope would call Dejavu friend because light calls to light and joy delights in the joyful.

In another moment Dejavu would be sad however, simply to consider a grave thing preferring not to look at all for if he had seen what grave is it would be simply irrelevant. Dissolution of the body is not a mistake. Solution is equal dispersal. And yes for the sake of Dejavu's effervescent buoyancy thedope wishes ease on him.
Are all bodies that die then doing it wrong wondered thedope and immediately he could hear Dejavu say they do as they wish but it is not necessary. Now it is not that thedope cared to put words in Dejavu's mouth but that thedope always hears two voices yacking at him whether coming from inside or out and considers both to be ultimately and most intimately coming from the same place, a mind and a world we all share. thedope knew for example that Dejavu would be bemused by the comment that he was not a writer having obviously written yet words are symbols of conditions and conditions are well, conditional. There is a context to that statement that makes it an accurate description regardless the evidence thedope had in fact written. thedope fondly recalled Dejavu saying he thought philosophers funny in person but boring in books. thedope tended to laugh at everything seeing yes and no constantly trying to occupy the same space but some regarded him as being irreverent. Should Dejavu be inclined to point out a possible claim to being a philosopher thedope would remind him his claim is that he am called many things and at those times he is those things to those people but he himself lays claim to none in particular.

Sacrificial giving and disease are not the same although one can contribute to the other is where thedope wandered away from this installment.

 

"To wish ease on me is as bad as wishing me a disease, you indolent mendicant!" said Dejavu to thedamp. "Didn't you ever learn to wish anyone their health?!" Dejavu had never suggested anyone was at fault for dying, only the possibility that we could come to live definitely/indefinitely. That there is no disembodiment to speak of, let alone do anything else with, and that the metaphysicians could kid themselves out of existence for all he cared. "I couldn't give a flying fuck if you think you're nothing and that we're all wasting our time thinking we're something!" said Dejavu, thinking how wonderful a flying fuck would really be could it be had. Dejavu let thedope tag along, even though thedope knew not what he did, for Dejavu was quite at home giving everyone the benefit of the doubt. His and their own. Besides, it was a benefit one couldn't do away with even if one tried. Dejavu wasn't really on speaking terms with thedope any more, and he hoped that glaring terms would be enough for thedope and his joy, wherever he had buried it. Dejavus only true companions would be those who would not stop to think in a kill or be killed situation. Whether thedope was one of these Dejavu knew thedope alone to know, since he wasn't saying. But Dejavu was saying, so he said: "Mushrooms are around for us to pick up on, and if they weren't, it makes no difference now."

 

You Daffyvu laughed thedope! "Health is both illness and well being. I wish you comfort or lightness of being that nothing fall heavy on you. But then if you prefer thoughtless friends then who am I to impose." That Dejavu was no longer on speaking terms with thedope demonstrated that Dejavu's terms weren't very solid or durable to begin with and as far as glaring terms being acceptable no conditions were required for thedope's joy. Dejavu would give thedope a doubtful body but disregard his soul as damp. How fickle this teacher love then! Dejavu drew on thedope's images to make his point all the same as they had shared thoughts/feelings and therefor the closest things to themselves. They had only gained from their encounter.

How long does love take to satisfy all things, how long is an instant?

 

repost from elsewhere,

"...wrong again, a writer writes for himself, moreover, someone who is anonymous doesn't even try to amount to anything, he just tries to get "it", whatever it is within him that is, "out" in these posts as near to the mark as possible..." replied the goblin, as if knowing that at the end, his very last post so to speak, it would be exactly the same for him as when he had first started, "...ok, so what reward should I be seeking here, see how cheap it sounds too, no, neither those trappings of dailylife nor these trinkets of the moneygod interest me at all, listen then, I'll say it once clearly, "my posts are all dead by the time I have hit to send button", so you amuse me with your assumptions but clearly you do not write from what you have written there, you don't know that all engaging feeling of following one's train of thought with a pen, simply you may leave this temple when you can stop snatching popcorn out of my hand but that's not amounting to something...", and with that the goblin wondered if there was some sort of "tomb of the anonymous goblin" somewhere, sure he would need it after reading that "a writer should amount to something" idea again, "...help, more anonymity, and quick please..." he cried, quickly double-checking his mask once more


56

 

repost from elsewhere, the "what at you thinking" thread

"...captain, I have holed our ship, and together we will drown now..." uttered the goblin without remorse to himself alone on seeing what dailylife had in store for him and utterly refusing it, adding "...so I'll climb this mast one last time for that finial pleasure, simply to watch you drown first between us here...", no, it was only a scene in the goblin's mind perhaps, mere words that returned to him often enough, for somehow the goblin knew that he was betraying his dailylife for his own values and that they would drown by it


55

 

"Don't wish me sissy stuff like that, wish me fleet of feet, or good aim, or even just a pleasant weekend for fucks sake. Use your imagination!" said Dejavu to thedope. "And health isn't illness you crazed enchristianated crank!" went Dejavu. "I hope you don't mean to insult my livewriting friends, who are not thoughtless. What was that garbled gab about the goblin anyway?" Dejavu had said he wasn't really on speaking terms with thedope any more, but he'd really only ever been on writing ones with him. As to their durability, his terms were always his own, no matter whose slots they went through, or who he shared them with. In short, his persona was utterly conditional upon his person. If no conditions were required for thedopes joy, then thedopes condition would itself be joy, Dejavu thought, thinking not to be too brutal since thedope at least wanted to talk about joy. "Look, apologize to my livewriting associates for your effrontery you ill-bred ire-starter, and I'll try to forget all about this episode. If not, then I shall remember it always as the time thedope took liberties with the instantaneous!"

 

Well we all make to clown town on the myth of fingerprints, said the dope,
the thought that we are somehow a special case makes us essentially laughing stock. If we seek to protect friends against enemies then we haven't been friendly over all. A fickle friendship based on the idea that some things are loving and some things are not. It occurs that if we knew what a have was we would behave accordingly. We want to be all warm and fuzzy but trip over our grandiose ideas of propriety. We play with a suit of spades as though it were a deck of hearts.

What would you have me apologize for inquired thedope of any one at all, your sense of offense, or your offenses?

 

...great reading, and there's no offence on forumland, when you can say what you like...

"...I just love the use of that non sequitur 'No Offence, but...' especially without any comedic irony and which is bastardised by the 'yoof' of today as an excuse to be offensive without any comeback as if 'No offence, but...' automatically raises a personal force field while they spray their slings and arrows about with gay abandon with 'No offence, but I think you are a ****' cue laugher, should be followed by 'No offence, but I am going to smack you in the mouth', yet I digress on a personal rant..." Jats makes tea glad of his comfy little cottage here by the canal on this cold cold night and thinking back now "...though sorry to hear of your troubles, reminding me of when I too ranz away from home, gathering my belongings and stepping out into the freezing cold vowing to never go back to my hateful mother and father, the swines 'I will show them' the young Jats cried, and so I lived the life of a Hobo for a while, wandering the streets until I finally returned to discover to my dismay that they hadn't even noticed I had gone, but then again it wasn't even dark out and I'd only been gone three hours, yes it was tough being eleven...and so xxxx, I see you are back then, good, and so no offence then, but fucking grow up son..." Jats laughs and raises his impregnable force field too now then

 

"Neither, but for saying my friends are thoughtless, you special old case you" said Dejavu, playing the joker better than thedope could even in being one. "That blather about seeking to protect friends from enemies not being friendly overall, you can shove that back up your arse as well" he added, never having felt he had to entertain anothers understanding in the words they chose to express it. "Your unwillingness to appreciate our differences is not mine to possess, so scuttle, scuttle this way and that yon fading christacean, find those cracks and crevices in the suppository rock of ages, lest you... perish the thought!" Dejavu cracked up at this, anticipating thedopes indubitably inflexible response.

 

Laughing at this banter between Thedope and Dejavu the little mouse wonders, "Has Dejavu forgotten about how he would start his own thread?" She wonders when he would for she gladly would post in his post like he has posted in hers but instead it seems like Dejavu and Thedope have engaged in a private argument that excludes others. "Humans, even those on forumland do seem to live their lives in their own private bubble sometimes, ignorant of the world surrounding them and oblivious of how said world could enhance their own."

 

"Not forgotten lucky mouse, I was thinking I might begin it today" said Dejavu, "but thinking to begin and beginning are different things, so when I begin it, and I promise it will be soon, please do begin too in its beginnings, and more!" He smiled, recalling those words of Goethes - Whatever you can do or dream you can, begin it. Boldness has genius, power and magic in it. - Yes, he would begin it, it was certain. "And like your thread, and those of jats and flea, it shall be for everyone, with everything on topic as always!" He laughed, looking for a picture to appear with these words here.

 

thedope had been getting a feel for rodent while the gang was having a cake fight. I never meant to be a separatist less so a writer thedope said softly, I am here for the organism and the more the merriorfrank. However I have not much to add or inquire if some one would tell me they enjoyed their lunch, having an enjoyable lunch seems satisfying of itself and I too am a luncher, enough said.
Unfortunately through some bizarre charm of chemistry thedope had a tendency to appeal to Dejavu's hackles and the resulting cackle is a cacophonous hilarity in hands of that ever creative word smither.
It is the conversation of life that inspires me little mouse, otherwise I am content with quiet replied thedope.

 

thedope had referred to the friends that Dejavu would have accompany him in a life a death situation, preferring them to be thoughtless. thedope had never imagined that Dejavu would ask of these new found to travel to such a stupefying place. thedope hadn't meant to insult Dejavu's mother but damn as he had explained he was often offered as irreverent. Whether the guy understood thedope or even cared to was irrelevant as he would always arrive at his own destination regardless. thedope had wished him ease but his love was fashioned into ire and proctological exploration. Who would have guessed someone so fluent in the vernacular of love could find himself in such a tizzy?
As to thedope's flexibility, some are astounded by that old mans reach and some will say he has nothing to teach, all speech and no peach, but that is just here say.

I show up here as verdant hues and soft rain and sometimes I pay attention surrendered thedope

 

repost from elsewhere

"...perhaps it is getting to the point where people really might have to decide whether it's their "exit time" then, if only because doctors are growing increasingly capable of keeping one's body going far longer than one's mind now, the family unit, already not very strong in the euro/american model, might snap if people were to be automatically given ten years of vegetative state at the end of their lives..." ventured the goblin, adding "...not an easy subject, usually those who have passed their "exit time" are in no mental position to do anything about it, so the two questions become, first, if one knew, would one do oneself in before one couldn't, and second, would one correctly recognise those signs in oneself in time to act upon them..."


56