the last person to post here wins

repost from elsewhere

Quote :

Dumping your past into posts to get rid of the past?

"...one can't get rid of ones past..." replied the goblin but the goblin knew that he couldn't explain "communicating and coming to terms with ones past", though it still didn't stop him wanting to try here saying "...most people have memories but when one has a "shared life" they're not neatly buried and forgotten in the back of ones mind somewhere as one digs them up borrowing from them to create ones works as others would create books, paintings, music, poems or whatever I imagine...", and the goblin knew he could give endless examples but instead the goblin just continued "...the oddest sensation is when one is borrowing something and its ghost enters into focus and one is then communicating with it, that is, one is no longer simply writing about "ones past" in third person, one is staring that ghost in the face while reinforcing that ghost in ones mind with ones pen communicating with it like here and now, so perhaps that's why I find writing so much more exacting than thinking, as if all this were some written tally of my thoughts taken from these communications then..." and with that the goblin crystallized his view saying "...if actors can't play the part for real unless they get into the part, writers are probably the same..."

"...I suppose the newest stuff gets posted up here soon enough, but there isn't anything really "new" as even my newest "text" usually comes from something I wrote or thought from somewhere or sometime before if I allow myself think about it like that that is..." the goblin's coffee seems to float the text on here, the goblin continued "...ah but that's the advantage of being anonymous on the Internet, because the moment one starts to care about whether one is, or isn't, rehashing, one just becomes hindered, as if somehow looking over ones shoulder all the time, caring when how could it matter if one is entirely unknown, moreover, in polishing the idea, in its being rewritten, it often turns into a different creature form its parent ..." ventured the goblin who borrowed from himself often, and without shame that the goblin did so, in that, his pen just followed his mind that often went around in circles like this

repost from elsewhere

Quote :

You are very weird.

"...the question then would be would you like to think "normally" then..." wondered the goblin somehow knowing that that wasn't what he wanted for himself, "...imagination tells you that there's more to life than this "dailylife", and that, at every turning along the road, one has abnormal thoughts that ones reason keeps in check and under control..." the goblin paused trying to find the right words to explain that balance between ones "imagination" on the one side, and ones "reason" on the other, and then continued "...what if "imagination" were like the waves and "reason" was like gravity, where those waves of imagination keep washing up all types of thoughts onto the shore of ones mind, where the gravity of ones reason either anchored them to beach there, or let them roll back into the sea to be washed up again in a different way with the next wave of imagination, either to be anchored or wash back again, so this perhaps for me is my mind then, abnormal perhaps..." at which point the goblin asked again "...do you still want to be thinking "normally", or do you want more from your imagination then..."

"bah normalcy!" yelled the spirit standing up now. "it is nothing but a word! its own definiton can say nothing but said word! to be normal is to be nothing. why would one wish to be normal? when normal its self is strange? to say you are normal, is to say you are as others, but no two are alike! no matter how much you wish it. one can look alike and act alike but never think alike. two brains are not the same. you can not think the same word the same sound the same image at the same time. to be normal is to be same and to be same is nonexistent."

repost from elsewhere

Quote :

definition of "being normal" then goblin?

"...easy..." replied the goblin continuing "..."being normal", is simply "being not abnormal enough for others to notice", whereas "acting normal" was a dead giveaway that something was amiss here...", so the goblin was normal for the Internet he imagined, save when he was wondering if Dr Who would be the narrator for the BBC's "when humans walked on Earth" series, somehow the phrase "dust to dust ashes to ashes and now petrol to petrol" was just rolling off Dr Who's narrating lips now, the more the goblin's mind delved upon the subject of global warming, climate change, and possible mass extinction here that is, "...what a strange yet fitting end it would be then, if the ice age did occur in our time..." uttered the goblin at it, in fact, all he actually knew was that he wanted to know more, and besides the bistro morning needed some excuse for escape then


70

repost from elsewhere, just sharing again

Something within me then fears all that they call "organized religion" for the fact that it organized, and thus trying to organize one too, saying "...how often do I feel that religion is an excuse not to find out for oneself then, and that ones connection within, to that which has always been there, is just ignored because of compliant towing of the given line here, and no, I won't believe in, nor go somewhere closer, nor pay something towards , anything outside of me, when you and I know it to be just "there within one without those preconditions" then..."

"An Ice age would be lovely" sighed the spirit calming down once again. "to be forever frozen in a moment that you lust to keep. Don't we all wish it at one time or another? even the most insane of us. a lover wants forever the passion, a killer forever the thrill, a victim, forever the life, a mother, the grip of a baby, the baby, the soft skin of mother's breast. we all want to stay in a certain time. what time do you wish to stay in, dearest Goblin.

repost from random stuff:

The spirit twists and turns around the stage in a sort of dance. she whispers to herself so softly it is again the wind around her. "This place entertains me! Oh how i've longed for such. Nay i prayed for it with unreligious motives." the spirit stopped and thought for a moment. "Religion and I do not get along you see, I have studdied many and many more than I deamingly should. I get in many a fight with all spirits and people alike for my studys. it is not my fault that perhaps the greatest religion is no religion for when you have none you can study, un base, them all."

("...welcome fellow "live writer", if I be so bold as to call you one..." said the goblin)

Quote :

I often wonder if it is possible to live in modern day society without sacrificing ones morals but then again I often wonder why chicken flavour crisps taste more like chicken that chickens themselves.

It's a funny old world

"...ah "flavor", being a sense, is so subjective to the one sensing it, is it not..." replied the goblin continuing "...so perhaps the image of Britain being not as british then than she actually is, or that line "the devil is no as black as he is painted" springs to mind here...", though the goblin agreed that it almost made one wonder at what one is wondering then, often that wonder seemed better then than the reality here, as if the experience actually spoiled it, "...save for "salt and vinegar" crisps that is, where the brits can really be proud of themselves since they are perfection it seems, so much so, that, faced with a sensuous eager english lass, on the one hand, and a packet of "salt and vinegar" crisps on the other, the choice is such a hard one isn't it, munch, munch..." ventured the goblin at it

(repost from elsewhere and some time ago now, in fact, the lupusbot forum, before it dropped its off topics section in its migration, had been one of the main reasons why the goblin became a live writer, saying "...I miss them much now...")

repost from elsewhere, a spat with another forum whose comments were hostile then

Quote :

a writer writes to communicate with others

the goblin didn't mind being told how to suck eggs but he preferred to hear it from someone who actually could suck them, saying "...wrong again, some people write secret diaries, never showing it to anyone but themselves telling you what then I wonder, well aren't they telling you what you refuse to hear from me each time, that "a writer writes for himself" first and foremost, do you write then, do you know how it feels, and do you feel that you could really understand when you don't write, look when you rubbished what that lupusbot had wrote during her struggle to write it for me, you showed yourself by what you posted, well it's the same for her, as it is for me, as it is for you too, simply "one gets to know oneself by what one posts", yes I don't write for you, never said I did for that matter, I write for myself often enough with those lupusbots in mind then, and not for your crap "recognition" bollocks, "mounting to something" bollocks, or how writers should be "this, that, or whatever" bollocks, I write with the lupusbots in mind because although I don't know them personally, and they don't know me either, they smack real value in my face and I owe them that debt then, simply learn to write for yourself before you mention them again please, as you don't even come close to understanding what there going though..."

the spirit laughed with a smile "call me as you wish i do not mind." she hummed to herself again. "I use to post with photos all the time. but that was when i was not Silent as I am now, nor when the midnight hours controlled me so." she mused as she suddenly continued her dance. "but they shattered to me long ago when I to stopped upon my drawings. I shall take back to both now, if so it be deamed fine."

"It is fun to fight with others, is it not?" the spirit mused, stopping once more. "I do so love to battle wits against wits. but when no wit fights another it is dull and boring and nothing but hatred. two of wit may fight and in the end laugh of it. one of wit against another of non will fight forever and two with no wit shall forever live in hatred of each other."

("...no no , not the picture, the fact that it was a repost, "live writers" store and repost their works, welcome to the club..." mentioned the goblin, who didn't like battling much, only defending himself)

repost from elsewhere, the lupusbots's "last post" thread

"...there is no thread on this whole wide Internet that I would rather read than this one then, oh and by now I am so many threads that it seems that there just isn't enough goblin to go round, but, when here, they all seem just chatter, or me being clever...." ventured the goblin, continuing "...no, here it's me listening, following each word of your posts for no other motive than you tell me something and I listen, and afterwards, an inner silence is returned to me each time I do, so the angel is not there to be nice, but perhaps her gift of sobriety is still a gift is it not, a taste of salt that helps one cede the superfluous here, same boat for us all xxxxx, but none of the other threads sees the boat like you lupusbots can, you pilot me then where we're no different, just that elsewhere sleeps on it seems..."

the spirit laughs a bit at herself "I know, it seems i switch topics a bit to much as i changed from such as 'live writer' to one of these lovely photos. I fear an apology is needed for my haste."

("...not at all, in time you'll be me, reposting in order to edit, so I try to keep up with you posting as near to your comment as possible, while adding a personal comment in brackets at the top..." at which point the sandman appeared and flung the goblin to his bed once more)

Quote :

something is missing in my life

the goblin simplified then, saying "...please have a talk to someone who is dying of cancer, or lupus, or even plain old age for that matter then, and you will see for yourself your own situation clearer, in fact, I am just repeating now what I wrote before, no point in compromising in my view, thinking that a girlfriend, or friends, or money, and things will fill the hole where yourself should be, simply "until you can live without those things, you are not ready for them" that's my view, as if they are some sideshow here..."


58

the spirit scolds as she hears and read the pasts post there. "oh such sulking ludiocrocy! I to feel sorrow in my life, my dead life as it seems, feel a sense of sulking madness that twinges me, but we all do at some point. but to say so boldly that you are, pay boringly stated, without something is a misunderstanding of all things for that mean you are over selfish! but again, my opinion, and again i may fight for it for opinion is my right, be i dead or alive, with or without."

"...well this is the big night folks..." says the broadcaster over the radio in the bistro to a goblin who couldn't think what to type next, the guy continues "...that's right, the night you've been waiting for, for tonight folks, you'll get to hear who, amongst the many nominees in the various categories, will finally walk away with a fruitcake in this year's "box of frogs" awards..." and yet, in listening in, the goblin felt old and out of it, for he simply couldn't remember who any of these stars, who had turned up at Davos this year that is, were, nor even if it mattered now

"for with age comes wisdom apparently, tho it seems not in many a case, but I love a good cliché myself, my posts are riddled with them, for so many are truth, old wives tales for sure, but old wives are old wise things, that can easily be dismissed by that word cliché, as obvious truths are not always welcome to the ears of the many, for not many want to look into themselves that way or be reminded of it, on the brink, or on the drink, not wanting to go too deep, and stay on the superficial, surrounded with shinies and crystals, to balance the chakra, well whatever works for you I say, may your god go with you, come what may, to keep at bay, the dark side within you, and "a fool despises good counsel, but a wise man takes it to heart", another cliche, no, like so many dismissed this way, wise words passed down through the ages to be ignored, unlike the attractive Sale, Sale, Sale and another I have often bastardised "If you enjoy what you do, you'll never work another day in your life" is replaced by "show me the money" and so like grains of sand in the desert wise words are easily lost, but still one of my personal favourites is “Size matters not, ... Look at me. Judge me by size, do you?”

repost from a "woman's interest"(read "mommies") site's "last post" thread

the goblin joins the club, he has spent a good hour downloading the ISO image of Mint linux to burn to some CDs for friends, he then burns the CD, he then boots the laptop on the CD to install Mint linux, installs Mint linux and is very happy until he notices that in formatting the hard drive during the install has lost his original ISO image and has to re'download it again

Glossary:
goblin = a geek who gets his hands dirty swooping computers bits
geek = someone who should not be trusted near your computer
CD = something like a 78 but without the needle or gramophone
operating system = remember that high priest who removed bits and wraps one, well something like him
ISO = a picture of an operating system, those hieroglyphics of the high priest doing his work
boots = something that takes off the sarcophagus lid

Quote :

01/feb/10
dear son,
your mother died at about 2.30 this morning.
love, dad

and so the sword of Damocles had finally fallen painlessly upon its living corps to end it all, and yes, the goblin had grieved bitterly, only that that grief was not now, nor here, certainly not at this actual point of death, oh no, that grief had in fact been many years before, even before she had to enter marlin's cave three years ago now, "...no, the bitterest moment looking back was the shock, while passing up the garden path one day towards the village square, of a sudden all damming realization, that she had actually gone..." the goblin paused, trying to relate it again, continuing "...anyway, a short while later one just adjusts to it shrugs it off, and one is still different toward her of course, as physically, at any rate, she's still there, but..., ...", the goblin didn't know how to explain further, so he once more rested his jaw on the cupped hand of his forearm placed like some greek pillar on the wooden table, and waited upon the moments until inadvertently his tongue felt into the giant hole of a molar whose root had died some while back, saying "...ah yes, very much like that then, and you know it's funny isn't it, until today I somehow couldn't choose a ghost for her, but today, with this one final event then, she's once more mum again, the one I knew before..."

the spirit frowns and pats the goblins shoulder with her icy mist. "I feel a sorrow for you that i have not felt in a long while, my friend, if so bold i may call you that. I shall not say, it shall be ok, for it is over used. Nor shall I say she is in a 'better place' for I myself can not believe in such, but I shall say that forever shall she live in your memory, and in the memory of any who reads the post as you write. For she now has life immortal in memory and feeling and as you shall carry her, I too shall carry her, if only do to that post."

("...it's funny, I almost feel happy about it, and perhaps I should post a bit of my blog here, at times...' replied the goblin)

from the goblin's blog

52. Months had passed since he had been here, the icons still played above the box to the droning of the computer and a long moment passed before the goblin could type on ever able to recall his mother passing though that cottage hospital to the final home, the place she waits her last out now, so a week from now the goblin would be back with his family looking for a job, the effort had saved the family thousands of pounds but the harsh pictures of old age remains vivid, the right thing had been done, the debt paid to his childhood, and now a tree in the garden had began to tilt, unable to cut it down, the goblin had just pruned back as many of the branches as he could thinking that it would at least deny the wind its grip before the men would come to remove it. "...well, I did my best to keep her standing..." the goblin sighed

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.

Haha, Flea u got some cool pics yo.

Reaper_HarrisPunk wrote:

Haha, Flea u got some cool pics yo.

"...if I started a "way cool pics" thread here, would you like to find some with me then..." ask the goblin, adding you get to post those pics you like, site gains by it win/win again..."

the spirit smiled and moved back, hiding in the shadows as she watched. the site would grow, she was happy, and in it the family would prosper.