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

repost from elsewhere,

the goblin loved posts, saying "...well, if you wish us to miss you, then be elsewhere, ah but if you want us to love you then be here for that love you seek from us..."


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repost from elsewhere

"...so what are you thinking goblin..." asked the slot again, "...oh nothing really, well perhaps slot I'm just thinking that the taste of awareness in one's later life is often cold, bitter, and sobering then..." replied the goblin, adding "...in fact, I suppose too, that the biggest difference, between "me now" and " me back then", was that in my youth was all about "tonight", whereas these days it's more "tomorrow morning" which comes to mind..."


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repost from elsewhere,

"...ah yes, our very own "poo life" as we know it then..." remembered the goblin who would have rephrased it more so continue eating this poo, or just die outright then, in fact, the goblin had woken up this morning feeling guilty, the dream once more had been about his not meeting expectations here and letting the side down, something that recurs often enough in differing forms during his sleep it seems, he retorted "...but surely as long as I'm paying my dues why should the rest matter so much to me, I mean why should bigger, better, and even more poo be what this life is all about, no, I'm definitely missing something here in that I actually prefer simplicity..."


63

 

repost from elsewhere, the "is there an afterlife" thread

"...if one knows or cares too much about what happens after one's end, then "this life now" becomes reduced to what I wonder, some sort of cheap points game meant to curry favor with some power up there, so no and probably for that reason alone, I don't want to "know of", nor wish to "believe in", nor even "care about" anything that that my afterlife might hold in store for me..." the goblin stopped, then continued "...so my actions in this life are based solely upon their own merit now, something which hopefully you'll agree is more honest towards those actions, and towards other people around me too, than that cheap speculating over their consequences concerning one's future arrival in some heaven or hell or wherever perhaps...", simply the goblin's mind was harping back to that other line of his do you really need a reward to do good, and where of course a far more likely explanation here was that the afterlife actually played neatly into the manipulations of these "powers that be" here on this earth rather than any power that might appear afterwards, "...so no again, for me it's not belief nor atheism nor even agnosticism, simply I refuse to speculate, for I am here today, alone, honest to myself in each of my decisions, something both correct in itself and how it should be I believe..."


63

 

repost from elsewhere

while the goblin for his part was thinking that he could just die at any moment now, and with that thought in mind, was wondering why he had to cling to so much social trappings and financial trinkets, saying "...surely if I start depending on those things outside myself for my own happiness or well-being here, one is just becoming subject to them, little better than some addict perhaps, someone weak and short-sighted towards one's life for sure, so render unto cearsar but never surrender unto cearsar, for slowly one has to figure out why one is not not what one has..."


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repost from elsewhere, just sharing and being honest here

"...I must be odd then, as that type of deception just seems like a 24/7 burden for some short term gratification or ego boost, but either way, whether it's odd or otherwise, the real life me is fast becoming a walking shadow of its on-line counterpart...", one where the goblin simply divided up his needs depending, that is between his libido through porn, his intellect by other people's company, and his journey to self by writing, while all along the old fart writing this had by now become a passed master at deflection and invisibility within his dailylife, venturing "...sorry, I know I should care a lot more about this aging wendy like external in its dailylife, but its on-line peter pan like counterpart just has so much more going for it, more me even..."


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repost from elsewhere, the "what do you need" thread

the goblin had sat a long moment at his usual table in the quiet bistro, reflecting, trying to answer the question for himself then, somewhat fruitlessly it seemed, until he just answered it to himself, saying "...I need an awesome thought then, whose thought that is doesn't really matter, but anyway something to take me out of myself awhile and return me to myself uplifted and gratified, for "people" "places" and "things" are all transient to me, no, not because they are, which of course they are too, no, more because I am transient amongst them, simply I'm passing through this life now, we all are in fact, and at times I need to remember that simple need to step out of myself to understand my transience better..."


63

 

repost from elsewhere

the goblin was thinking about how the sky darkens early this time of year, with a wind who, like autumn's acrobat, simply sweeps up and gyrates that mosaic carpet beneath those trees that lines both side the street in ever changing kaleidoscope of patterns, and where the air smells as it did once, of damp foliage, in the dark inviting warmth and intensity of it then, "...in fact, it's the time of year I love most then..." started the goblin continuing "...where, as a child, I kicked through these leaves that I so carefully walk over now, and where that drifting smell of burnt chestnuts from somewhere, or that real worry, of how dr who really could save our world from the invading daleks this time, seemed so much more pressing than any sudden shooting of a president or some far away war that barely registered on my little young radar...", other thoughts now, like fireworks in the garden, with dad playing the grand magician's role to a raging bonfire, surfaced, "...oh yes, all that was autumn in my childhood then, and this autumn too, carries me back there once more, a spell perhaps, or some mere association then, but at any rate, a vision as "real" to my eyes as "gone" to my touch, well what of it..." mused the goblin who simply saluted its ghost once more in its annual passing..."


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repost from elsewhere

"...no she never really forgives, does she..." said the goblin "...though she might let it pass for a while that is, it will return between them again, these things always do you know, while he for his part lives in fear if he values her, or as some trapped fool if he doesn't, where mistrust, disappointment, regret, shame and a whole bunch of other inner emotions flog the backs of their relationship from that point on..." mentioned the goblin who would never confess it, nor repeat it, nor ever talk about it now, just that from somewhere inside he knew that he knew


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repost from elsewhere, the troll's site

"...one sees with light yes, but one comprehends in vision..." replied the goblin over his coffee again, liking the preacher troll very much, continuing "...for if your message is obscure, your followers will surely falter at it, whose fault here...", and with that the goblin once more thought back to john calvin's line again if a potter makes a pot, and that pot leaks, is it the fault of the pot or the potter who made it, and then that other line that always followed it well then, if god has created you, and you sin..., in fact, the goblin's coffee was beginning to taste good with that reflection, and yet he wasn't an atheist, more simply he just refused to speculate here, saying "...and how I love that book and the chapters left out by the romans but I hate it when someone tells me the ending while I am still reading it through it in my own life..."


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repost from elsewhere, the "do you remember when" thread

the goblin showed, saying "...no I blame "the magic roundabout" myself..." continuing "...just it came too close to "the six o'clock news" so it was easy to connect the two together here and confuse them, because with one, one was supposed not really to understand anything anyway but just accept there were characters with odd plots and carry ons while the other was the "magic roundabout" again whose viewers later became members of some obscure forum talking about old television programs here..."

[noparse]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PEnePgNZvIY[/noparse]


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repost from elsewhere, nothing new under the sun

"...ah yes "one's free will" again..." voiced the goblin continuing "...oh but there's always that rub isn't there, that god actually knows what a man will choose each time since he is the all knowing god, simply he knows that which we will choose beforehand as he is in effect both the instigator and the judge of a situation that he himself creates for us..." voiced the goblin again and, although theologians had throughout history tried to square this circle many times before, the goblin just reminded out of it, saying "...no, it's only when one takes "reward/punishment" out of the equation that what remains is a clearer honesty towards one's actions, simply "one does good because it is good to do so", where speculations upon the afterlife would just distort that honestly, so one loves god not for the reward nor in fear of punishment..."


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"Reward and punishment were never a part of the equation," laughed Dejavu at this point, "feeling good being unequivocally what it is!" Like any human, Dejavu would attribute his pleasure to this or that, to he or she, to the stars even if it was dark enough, and why not, when it could be attributed so? His clearest honesty however, which had been with him since childhood had him attribute his pleasure to himself before all. "That we're all pleasure-givers is a contention that brings everything of us to light! So to those who take fright, I say take care, and beware, for our lot's more than fair!" Dejavu, now neither young nor old, hardly ever agreed with anyone elses 'truth'. His love of our wanting to speak our mind was as it had always been. Intact.

 

repost from elsewhere, the "please introduce yourself" section

in fact by now the goblin didn't even know if his libido still worked, saying "...no doubt I'd probably start thinking about the appropriate lines and adjectives at the time, highly likely with all this writing now, transcendental lovemaking, subjective, looking on once more, as in "and how was it for you darling", replying "soft, firm, mechanical, overwhelming, intimate, passionate and somewhat messy too", admittedly not quite what she was expecting to hear then, but her fault for asking...", so, as far as the goblin's lovelife was concerned, all speculations, and those conjectures that go with them, had not been put to test for quite some while now, simply "bets off" seemed easier to live with here, that is while accepting that at his age, like any age for that matter, there were both hardships and compensations, "...welcome to your transcendental "double life" goblin..." went slot's voice in the background again, adding "...please post your "out of self" experiences here, you usually do, don't you now goblin..."


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repost from elsewhere

"...actually I'm thinking that we seem to be spoiled for disaster scenarios these days..." started the goblin, continuing "...well, what with solar flares, global warming, planetary collisions and alien invasions, sounding slightly more conducive to thought than this global recession with bird flu..." as his hand swayed out its open empty palm as if giving away something now "...no I blame this internet then, isn't it just amazing the way it just acts like a ouija board to our fears each time...", definitely the goblin was not feeling normal today, though it had been a long time since he had been anything near sane it seems, "...no, better sign off before what I write here just confirms everyone's suspicions upon the subject of my sanity..." voiced the goblin as he rushed off fearing sanity most, "...ah no, done that been there, no sanity please..." came his voice from the ever growing distance now


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repost from elsewhere, another "last post" thread

the goblin welcomed xxxxx, saying "...ah no, there's no cutoff point here, and no material reward either, but whether one continues to post on after knowing those two facts, just tells one who one is to oneself now, me, I battle on and refuse to let my dailylife stop me, hence the thread's title then, so this is my thermopylae in effect, where I will post on to the last of me that is, if not, my dailylife wins, that's the real battle then but I'll never stop while something beyond dailylife is there for the winning.."


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repost from elsewhere

"...well now..." started the goblin again "...doesn't that split into two here, as why I write in third person, and then why as a goblin perhaps...", the goblin looked around for his coffee again, yet something told him that this all needed a full cup before he could continue here, and that the kettle was unlikely to boil by itself so off he went, returned, and then just started writing again, continuing "...I was writing in third person as an experiment perhaps, exploring the way those authors wrote as they did by facing their problems for myself, meaning that whenever I read a book today it's clearer as to why then...", but there was more too, yes always more it seemed, continuing "...but then that original goal got misplaced when other unexpected aspects showed up, not least of which that colourfulness, flexibility, and depth of the lines one could suddenly write meant that my post then intrigued me, so perhaps the author's secret had been this fun of narration, its beauty and ease of use, only that the secret had then addicted those authors making them very dependent on it...", which was true since the goblin couldn't really go back to the utter boredom of normal posts now, simply his ideas, plots and lines came to him by way of this narration, adding "...oh, and that other bit of why the goblin, well when writing in third person it calls for a persona, and since I mended computers much like a goblin did at the time, it lent itself neatly at first, and then stuck fast afterwards, even up to the point where giving choice between this "internet peter pan" or some rich and famous "real life published wendy" my answer remains contained within this anonymity here...", at which point the sandman turned up pointing out that everyone else was already fast asleep


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repost from elsewhere

"...well my being still alive is all rather debatable I suppose, I mean what with being a persona without physical form upon forumland here, but apart from that minor point, I am still very much here as ever..." mentioned the goblin who simply wished that he could be more everywhere then, adding "...but how all this is so fathomless to my every effort, it's like skimming pebbles across its immense endless surface, where it first accepts them, then halts them and finally swallows them down like everything else that I have ever thrown across its surface, where neither those splashes, the number of bounds, nor the extent of the ripples too, really make any difference in the end, save only perhaps, that in "my skimming these posts across its surface" it had become as some beautiful gift to me, just this brief shared moment then between a finite self and an infinite sea of forumland while I posted upon surface within my time remaining..."

 

repost from elsewhere, on "predestination or free will"

"... well I appreciate the time, effort and thought you've taken there xxxx, and you're certainly a credit to this forum..." mentioned the goblin, continuing "...but the difference between that "man as child and god as his parent" example you give as an explanation of free will is that there's is really no separation between the man-child and the god-parent in my view, it's more like the link between the head, shoulder, arm, elbow, wrist, hand, finger, down to its extremity, simply all and everything was created by the same source here, where each and every move was him throughout, as the continuity remains clear then, god is everywhere, in everything, allknowing and constant throughout, so we cannot pretend that there is somewhere he isn't, nor something he doesn't know...", to which the goblin returned to his original point, that the goblin himself simply ignored the afterlife because either it belonged to the "predestination camp" where all was predetermined anyway, or it was in the "freewill" camp where it turned into some "points game", saying "...no thanks, that heaven or hell concept is not what I base my decisions on, where instead if one does something solely upon its own merit then the resulting action are both honest in itself, and becomes too, a way to know oneself by it, so I do not need a reason to do good, good is the reason in itself and I know myself by what I choose...", somehow the goblin just remembered Jesus's words again that didn't make that roman bible why do you only wash the outside of the cup, don't you understand that the one who made the outside is also the one who made the inside too, so the goblin's journey to self had brought him this far then, dailylife was the outside of himself now, and what he sought was neither "up there", "over there", or "elsewhere" at all, it was merely "inside" where it has always been


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repost from elsewhere, someone who had thanked him

"...nothing to ever thank me for..." replied the goblin, adding "...only that nothing on forumland is ever safe now, therefore I need to store my stuff across as many forums as possibly while I still can, so the effort is neither as selfless nor as kind as it may look...", in fact, the goblin always enjoyed being on all those forums that he posted to, yet he never really trusted any of them for any sort of permanence, "...here one moment, gone the next as they say, well that's just forumland for you...", ventured the goblin about it, while outside another dull day simply progressed and passed on overhead, though by contrast inside the bistro the goblin's mind, constantly fueled on coffee and the odd croissant, ran at full throttle through the new posts across the threads again, accepting that any published book would probably be far more concise, more educating, and correctly written too, true, and yet, all those books had just one thing in common, they were in effect dead and published, with their author well beyond reach, "...ah but none of you are dead here I hope, and for that reason alone I eagerly read through your livewritings without knowing what you might write next, where you have thanked me now, but shouldn't we be thanking each other instead, I mean for our being both author and reader between us


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