the last person to post here wins

the goblin just wished to reassured everyone here, by pointing out, that while most psychopaths were "normal people, save that they were slightly smarter than most, with perhaps some minor behavioral lapses from time to time", they were nothing like the goblin here, who felt himself to be "somewhat more unbalanced in his approach all of the time", stating "...there you go, see nothing to worry about me then..."


3

"I like things of beauty, but beauty is uglyness." moving her hand through the smoke that was her being, she created a long stemmed rose of smoke. pluck by pluck she pulled the petals from their embedded home. "those who are ugly, who are sorid, and harmful, tend to have the most beauty to offer deep within them. those of beauty, who's life revolves around it, tend to be created of only ugly things and thoughts. so what is beauty and what is uglyness?"

("...well put..." replied the goblin, continuing "...I can add nothing, nor wish too...", sometimes like coming out of the cinema, one just wants to enjoy the elation of it for a while)

"...what is your goal then, why do you post..." asked the goblin, adding "...I know why I post, but why do you post or never post...", by now the goblin had written so often about "dailylife", the moneygod, and about knowing oneself from what one posts, etc., but in the end, the answer is not something one has to prove to others here, it isn't a belief then, it just is seeing it for oneself, "...my goal is to pass my existence through the focus of my pen..." said the goblin knowing that anything the goblin had ever experienced had become that much clearer for his having written about it, "...that's what this posting is all about for me..." voiced the goblin in the empty evening room once more before the next demand of "dailylife" called him away


3

the goblin had the last post for now, "...in fact, we live the "last alive" lives too..." he ventured "...so many previous livers then, who thought as little about us now, as we do about the future generations to come..." ah but then the goblin remembered that is was Christmas, so jumping into the spirit, the goblin shouted "...."eat, drink and watch tele for tomorrow folks", for tomorrow you'll be a bloated grumpy zombie pulling the pillow tightly over your head on the sofa with that monumental hangover, wondering why, that manual of life, hadn't simply stated "for selfdestruct, press the Christmas-binge button"..."


2

"I, myself and only myself for I know of none but I, post so that whence I disappear I know forever that i was once here. that i was once welcomed. Is that not selfish? is that not true though? Do you know post to know that you existed? Do you not live to know you exist? again the word Live! Life, live, death, die, all of it is just a word. What are their deffinitions? Beauty, ugliness, emptyness, fullness." she rocked back in the chair more and made a sound that would have been a yawn, if she lived. "the glass is half empty or half full" she wishpers. "to you, which is it?"

("...then for ones "journey to self"..." replied the goblin "...for even ones greatest effort cannot hold back the snow that will cover our tracks here, oh,they're left for providence perhaps, but there's no guaranty that providence will wish to keep them however perfect those tracks might be..." the goblin stopped, reflected, and then added "...no, one writes for oneself here, as oneself then...", simply, the goblin, from being anonymous, somehow understood that all his posts were, in effect, dead by the time he hit the "post" button, but his "journey to self' remained, that alone, for all his posting, or not posting, remained constant here)

repost from elsewhere, just sharing

the man looked at the goblin, he explained slowly "...in my hand I have two pills, the blue pill of reality, and the pink pill of illusion, once you take one of these pills, there's no going back, it's up to you then, which one then goblin...", "...look I'm sorry, there is something I don't understand..." the goblin looked straight at the other man "... and what's that..." the man leaned closer now, the goblin thought deeply, and then explained "...well I haven't taken either of those pills yet so which pill am I on now, surely I would need only one pill then, the one that changes from this reality to the other reality, not two...", "...very good goblin, lets shoot the scriptwriter then..." smiles the man


3

repost from elsewhere

evening, and the goblin hits the bistro where, seated in his normal place, the long moments pass and others turn up and the place slowly fills to the sound of laughing voices over the music, a ritual of rising night that the goblin absorbs and reflects upon, avoiding those that notice him for those who don't, the goblin reads the signs between couples and friends on the one hand, and those who come alone on the other, "...ah now, what could be more interesting than people..." he asks himself


3

"I don't like people" the spirits jaw lacked as she spoke. she looked around with gleaming steam eyes and everything the moved made them twinkle. "they are bothersome, they are curel, what can they do but destroy? Alas I know I am, or at least was at some time, a 'person' one of many 'people' but I hate them all the same and thus i hate myself. They destroy everything. creation is nothing the the destruction of all things true. and in truth can you say there is any truth? I see no way it could be possible. after all, truths are something someone comes up with. truths are not true until everyone agrees. Letters are not true because a mind thought of them. the name for the letters are not true because a mouth spoke them. when you wake up, do you see the truth or what humans, people, have created into truth."

The strange dark-haired, bright eyed young woman blurts out, "My bra has 3 phone numbers in it!"

the goblin thanked everyone for reading or posting on here, though his mood was too pensive offer much in return, it was as if the goblin was once more back in the court of the moneygod being asked "...so goblin if you had one wish what would it be, name your price, I mean, you have a price don't you, most people here do have at least something they want then..." smiled the knowing moneygod as he stretched out his open arms in a big wave around him across those endless lines of items on offer "...anything then goblin, you name your price and then I'll name mine, it's that simple...", the goblin thought about it but then said "...no, I just want to be creative...", "...ah another bloody fool who thinks happiness can't be bought, simply you want to be "happy" then I take it, a happy little goblin in a happy life..." laughed the mocking moneygod sitting back in his chair now looking at the goblin, the goblin had to laugh at himself too "...I must be mad then, I don't really want happiness either, I mean if you asked me to swap my past tears and my pain, all my sadness, anger, passion, the loves broken or otherwise, these long goodbyes of people and places going or gone, I wouldn't swap them and I never will either, I am simply not cheap to their memory as those memories are all I have of me too, that's all..." which was the point the casher told the goblin to put the groceries back into the cart because the people behind him in the queue were waiting, "...sorry I was somewhere else..." apologized the goblin as the supermarket reality mercilessly entrapped him once more in his "dailylife"


3

The young woman gets serious, "As request," she looks at goblin,"I shall post my poem here..."

Winter's Deadly Numbness

The frost's bite...
'Til morning's light...
The winter chill....
A strange sensation...
What a thrill...
Tingling skin...
Red warm blood...
Pooled out onto...
A blanket on pure white...
The winter tells a story...
A story of love and death...
A story of hate and regret...
"Young child, don't fret..." said the voice in her head...
"Soon all will be over...Soon you shall be dead..."

("...and why not add that picture too, to make me happy then..." said the goblin adding "...well, one idea would be to ask yourself always, "what does this text look like" and "what is this picture saying", as in doing so your posts with change, and more importantly the illustrator's will grow within you, I mean you do want the eye don't you humans...")

cycling in the wind, the cold cuts into the goblin's face, as he rides towards to bus terminal and, as always at this point, his grandmothers words spring to mind "...if you cycle into the wind you will be colder than walking whereas if you cycle with the wind you will be warmer..." to the 10 year old goblin at the time, it was true wisdom, but today it is a friendly ghost that pops up each time he cycles in cold windy weather, making the goblin wonder, by what ghost his own children would remember him by


3

the goblin thanked the poster, for their attempt to covert the inevitable course of things, and sympathized deeply, but alas, time had given the last post once more back to its rightful goblin, who loved this thread because no matter how his own fortune changed, here at least, the goblin, like anyone else, could win just by posting something, ah but the goblin reminded himself that this post could indeed be his very last one, so the goblin always wanted to post something that he would like to read later, even if the goblin wouldn't be able to, being no longer in this world that is, "...perhaps, we goblins are silly about leaving pretty footprints in the snowy path of life..." said the goblin continuing "...of course more snow will fall and all would be forgotten but here we thread on as ever..."

I say, marvelous!!!

(the goblin simply confessed that he was corrupting young ladies into the wicked ways of "live writing" here, saying "...I can't help it I though, JATS of the "band" has made a guest appearance, I am of the "band" too, so we already have one feather in our caps, and he's one of the busy ones, but "live writers" are all different, like books of a bookshelf, only that you know it when you come across one, their posts are not posts, that's all...")

the goblin reminded himself again, that all we ever have is "now", that little window of time between the dealt hand and the unplayed cards, and that perhaps, "to live" was to turn over each card one by one, while "to post" was to win a trick then, "...who knows, with enough tricks, one might actually go on to win the game itself, with ones final card, now that would be something..." hoped the goblin ever aiming at it

which was the moment the spacecraft landed, and a little green alien said "...take me to your leader...", the goblin replied "...well, I don't know if he's actually the one you want, he's rather busy too, but a word of advise, don't mention the housing crisis, health insurance, the price of petrol, global warming, the troops in Iraq, the deficit, gunlaws, unlawful detentions, torture and the exchange rate, second thoughts would you like Larry King or Jerry Springer instead..." to which the alien scratched his head, got back on his spaceship and whizzed away not quite sure what to make of the humans then, nor of the goblin for that matter


3

There is toothpaste in my BRA!!!!

Wow Sage...Can I lick it out ;p? Haha that seems awkward... I'm going to say that at school tomorrow...

(the goblin didn't have a bra, and therefore was unable to advise, but he promised to give the matter some serious observation at some later point in time)

"...feed me..." the white slot whined so the goblin once more went to the back of his mind to find something to offer "...you created me now feed me..." and the last post was always hungry "...feed me and I'm yours, it's as simple as that..." how many times had the goblin heard that one he wondered "...go have that bath now where you'll no doubt fish for thoughts being the devious goblin you are, and come back and feed me..." the slot repeated, "... but your never mine for long on this thread though..." complained the goblin "...true, but you didn't want me to be a blog so it's your fault..." shouted the slot after the goblin who was now heading towards his bath in compliance


4

the goblin in this predawn, posts to hold back his reality, that of one more looming work-day now, but it, like the "rub it in" rain, that awaiting bus-load of miserable herded commuters, and the rest, was still going to happen he knew, whatever, save that they warn him now, they warn him of what his life can be reduced to, if one lives life without reflection "...ah but I am not a machine..." the goblin retorted without restraint here, adding "...I am well aware of it now..."

"Slaughter. That is the word of the day. Why? Well of course because In my memory I invisioned a school house teacher reading a dauting poem with the word; Slaughter." the spirit laughs as she thinks to her list of poems posted else where on the site. Where the strange wonders of them seep from her free writing and how her fingers burn with the emotion. Yet as the thinks to them she thinks, too, that they are horrid and not good enough for the posting but yet all together they are children and are perfect in and of themselves.

Sage broke out into tears, closing his fist screamed and shouted inly, where the light hadn't shown for so long, long saw him overdue, originally the world had revolved around the center of his being, not himself but his being, breaking down he started to sing," The curtains closed, no way home, the nectar of life run dry,these tainted words made to hurt cut in me with its knife.._-cinema bizzare-," closely the short ranged temper was the anaphase of his own surmise, it brought him to post more frivolous posts, now hoping others would see his genius.

sorry,no licks XP

only for three dollars and a carebear on fire you can...


^_^



have a nice day everyone!!!!

Silent_GoodbyeKiss wrote:

Wow Sage...Can I lick it out ;p? Haha that seems awkward... I'm going to say that at school tomorrow...

Licking?

I'm not so sure i wish to join here xD