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-   -   oh how I hate editing posts, so share with me then (http://forums.writersbeat.com/showthread.php?t=30923)

fleamailman 04-22-2011 02:06 AM

oh how I hate editing posts, so share with me then
("...ah no, this is not my thread at all, simply anyone can use here to edit their posts into something of themselves now, where if not, one can read the posts of others to pass the time so to speak..." mentioned the goblin, adding "...simply the idea is air/edit/backup, where instead of just post and discard, which is what most posters do forums it seems, one takes those posts that one feels worthy of one's pen, and repost them here editing them then, oh yes, the slippery slope into livewriting perhaps, but don't you want to know who you are by what you post...")

repost from elsewhere, just sharing

the goblin was here too, alone save for that cold feeling of deep passing night as he eyed the the christmas tree for its reassurance though it only seemed to open doors back to earlier trees of his wilder times “…you’re all gone, why do you want me to remind myself of all this now, besides they're, and well you know it too, either dead, grown up, or very old now…” he voiced to the bright tree surrounded by darkness, but the tree laughed back"...stupid goblin, is it only now that you learn that you can't give christmas back to those who loved you, you can only pass it on for them..."


fleamailman 04-22-2011 02:07 AM

repost from elsewhere

the poster had won, as had the goblin many times to date too but there was always only one "last post" and only the one "now" to post it in, "...it is like picking up a handful of sand, and letting the grains slip gently through ones fingers..." mused the goblin "...there are so many things yet to post, and so many things that I have posted, but just like this sand then, they are somehow less attractive than the falling grains of the present situation..." the goblin was simply trying to say, that winning the "last post" game, was less of a prize, than the adventure of sifting through the sands for what one could post to win it with


fleamailman 04-22-2011 11:23 AM

repost from elsewhere

“…this day returns not…” uttered the goblin seeing his happiness slipping away the moment he saw himself in terms of other people, true he was no longer young and the man in the mirror was hardly pleasing, true he didn’t have the house, swimming pool, etc., true that there were those far more educated and with more friends too, “…true all true…” the goblin sighed, ah but wasn’t growing old, in this way at least, the same boat for all of us then, it was as if somehow "life" was telling the goblin to fight his own battles with his own values, the goblin then laughed, comforted by that one fantastic thought then, “…you see, at this very moment I have this slot here, where I can post absolutely anything I like, so perhaps, with a little bit of luck and reflection, I can find that one really great something worth posting now in vindication of it all…” the goblin continued “...anyway I just bet you I can drag the giant washbasin across this shower room and fling it with all my strength against the barred window, like in that film…” somehow knowing life would either stop him beforehand, or catch him up later as it always had, “…ah but at least I tried…” the goblin repeated to himself aloud "...at least I tried, and I am still trying too...", and one day folks, at the end of his life perhaps, the goblin would escape through those bars just like that film too, god he loved that film then

the film then


fleamailman 04-22-2011 12:25 PM

repost from elsewhere

the goblin had now understood, that almost all computer problems find their origin seated between a keyboard and a chair, so he turned his thoughts and eyes elsewhere in this "cybercafe bistro" with some of its computer screens set high against the far wall, where too, the goblin on looking up, sees the muted television screen showing some obese girl being reduced to the size she wants, the same channel that show cars pimped to something fabulous, and rock stars who live in palaces, "...get behind me television..." he simply retorts as the goblin moves himself around to the other side of the table now


fleamailman 04-22-2011 12:27 PM

repost from elsewhere

another ghost, the goblin remembered the true story in newspaper about a super powerful motorcycle that had killed in turn two of three brothers, of course the point of the story was what would the third brother do, "ride it" or "sell it", but for the goblin, at that time without anyone who depended on him, it was this wonderful image, of staking ones life in the race with death, which haunted him then, "...besides death, you could say "call" at any moment so what does one stake here..." asked the goblin aloud to himself, "...up to you, how fast do you want to go..." came the voice form within now


fleamailman 04-22-2011 09:29 PM

repost from elsewhere, upon his mother's entering merlin's cave

readying for his return to Geneva, the goblin had said goodbye to his failing mother once more, and yet again the goblin was thinking here that the older one gets the more that word "goodbye" has weight to it, for his room in this old house was quiet and barely unchanged since the last time he had visited, simply it's silence reflected the absence of it's owner now, and although the goblin could easily play some music, or watch television then, somehow it just seemed neither right nor sincere at this slow passing moment to do so


fleamailman 04-23-2011 02:03 AM

repost from elsewhere

"...this image is surreal, its details unknown...." notes the goblin as he cycles pass a group of people gathered around some car/pedestrian accident, and although the goblin can see nothing for the crowd, the attending ambulance's lights seem to twirl through the dark in unison with a lone church bell that calmly calls from somewhere above, the goblin has moved away by now but the image seems to follow him still, things like this do


fleamailman 04-23-2011 02:06 AM

repost from elsewhere

it's that time of year, so the goblin has been thinking about christmas again, and how in this modern age it just didn't politically correct anymore, where non-christians think it is too christian, and where christians thought it is too pagan now, no what the goblin wanted to offer here something else, something new in fact, "...well folks, it's time for the all new "politically correct" name-change then..." ventured the goblin "...so what we need is something historical to celebrate in its place that is both secular and well known..." the goblin continued "...well how about celebrating the discovery on the new world by christopher columbus in 1492...", in fact, the goblin had only suggested this, imagining that there were probably some people in america who were aware of it, "...simple, we take the his name and shorten it, "chis" of christopher and "bus" of columbus...", and with that the felt he had done his good deed of the day and now only wanted to be the first to say on this thread "...merry chrisbus everybody..."


fleamailman 04-23-2011 06:10 AM

repost from elsewhere

the goblin didn't know how to judge a wasted day, like others could that is, for if the goblin did all that he should, he knew he was just be doing for his dailylife what he himself didn't want to do, whereas if he did what he wanted to do, those things that dailylife demanded of him would just pile up again, but either way this compromise would continue it's course, as would both the slot's and dailylife's demands of him no doubt, "...but at least by this post I prove to myself that I was trying beyond my dailylife..." said the goblin in the bistro of a cold winter's morning, knowing too, that nothing and no one was actually asking him to try now, continuing "...ah no, there was never really any starting point in this journey to self here, just some realization perhaps that it's a shared life for those who care to reflect upon it..."

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fleamailman 04-23-2011 12:00 PM

repost from elsewhere

the goblin could feel the night dragging down his senses, "...just one more post for the road then..." he said knowing that it wasn't the post itself so much as those long moments trying to choose the right lines which made the post worth it to him, "...you see, it's just like shopping..." mentioned the goblin now, continuing "...cheap things are everywhere, and easy to buy too, but finding "value", well now that's another matter isn't it..."


fleamailman 04-23-2011 12:03 PM

repost from elsewhere

the goblin still refusing to admit to himself that looking back his love had been based on her faults, but that was what it was, for she had to be vain, capricious, stubborn, unreliable, unbearable, unreasonable and passionate for the goblin to fall headlong in love with her, anything less was never really feminine enough for him to succumb to her charms it seemed

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fleamailman 04-24-2011 12:20 AM

repost from elsewhere

the goblin's inability to post recently, reflected something inside, which was as if saying to him "too much on ones plate" and yet, it was probably more important is this moment then, that the goblin posts on, "...simply, you see, the plate becomes so big that one eventually sees nothing else but it..." repeated the goblin, still aware that it was nearing christmas, that the american post election was being played out on some wobbly stage, and that the world was still warming too, and yet, all the goblin could actually see now was a massive plate of his own personal problems, "...oh no, just to think is not enough here, where "I post is to win"..." said the goblin, somewhat unconvincingly to himself, but, whether the goblin in fact posted or not, or whether the goblin looked only at his own personal problems then, the slot would only catch up with him at some later point with a tally of the duration of the time passed against the number of posts he had done, "...ah, this muse's pact is too severe and slot always hungers..." mentioned the goblin trying to think beyond his little plate of concerns then

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fleamailman 04-24-2011 12:31 AM

repost from elsewhere, a woman's interests "last post" thread

the goblin returned some hours later to find the there were still few posts "...alas, poor humans, I knew them well..." said the goblin borrowing words from hamlet while downing his coffee in the bistro where so called dailylife continued a pace around him till his eyes fell on a child being taught abc by her parent and could understand the child's resentment at flexing the brain on the weekend, and just like his school days too, the goblin wants to whisper the answer behind the teacher's back something like "...hush, you have to take the last post place here from the goblin..." without getting caught by a the prof who normally was the "read up marx, write down marks" type, at which the goblin caught those school memories before they could fully crawl out of the soil again and the just reburied them quickly


fleamailman 04-24-2011 09:25 AM

repost from elsewhere

the angel's aim was perfect, touching a nerve within, the goblin could now re'see his fingers burning with cold as he frantically cupped the snow into a ball as he closed in on his girlfriend, in fact he loved her but dammed if that mattered at that point, first came revenge


fleamailman 04-24-2011 09:27 AM

repost from elsewhere

the goblin remembered coming across the very toy in the flea-market that he had always wanted in his childhood, and in that way at least the flea-market to him seemed very much like a sea that washed things up from his past, the goblin picked up the toy, took a long look at it and then finally put it back as if to let it drift away till next time then, saying "...well, I suppose my growing old is like that then..."


fleamailman 04-24-2011 08:52 PM

repost from elsewhere

back in the village, and still looking after his mother in her mental decline, the goblin looks out the window and notices an old woman, who was now watching from the safe distance of the church path behind the house, the funeral in the graveyard of someone who apparently had, some 35 years before this day then, refused her daughter something, and it was as if that ancient phrase "captain, I have holed our boat and together we will drown now" was just written into the old lady's staring face as the goblin watched her in his turn too


fleamailman 04-24-2011 09:05 PM

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 red 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


fleamailman 04-25-2011 03:37 AM

repost from elsewhere

"...everyone who posts on a "last post" thread is a winner for a while..." thought the goblin, "...it's just that life continues so one has to keep on winning not so much against the others here..." though the goblin admitted that that too, was fun at times, "...ah no, the real win is against the part of oneself that just wants to live daiylife from day to day without looking, without forming an opinion, or without whatever..." blurted out the goblin to himself mostly since somehow he too, now believed that growing older was about gaining depth at the expense of letting dailylife's distractions go, yet that other extreme also annoyed him, in that he understood that one mustn't live life solely for sake of one's old age, where the phrase "old young is old long" seemed to sum up both sides of the pros and cons to him yet without any real reconciliation between them then


fleamailman 04-25-2011 03:40 AM

repost from elsewhere

"...smokers may now smoke in the cemetery..." advised the goblin here, since geneva too, had decided to ban smoking in bistros, though to be honest, sitting out his typing day with a cake for lunch drinking coffees, didn't exactly strike the goblin as healthy living either, but at times he just needed to remind himself of something, saying "...well now, perhaps longevity is not the point of life after all..."


fleamailman 04-25-2011 01:41 PM

repost from elsewhere, another "last post" thread

dawn after last night's posting party finds the goblin sweeping away the previous posts with the words like "...I was someone else then..." while outside somewhere, in the looming now, the city wakes to a clear cold sun that pitilessly shines over the arena of exploitation and profitmaking as the goblin, his weapons ready, shouts to the mass of ever eager onlookers "...all hail to the moneygod, we who are about to work salute you..."


fleamailman 04-25-2011 01:42 PM

repost from elsewhere

morning, and the goblin slides out of bed in his pre-coffee state, where hitting the bathroom, he will shave off his face, weigh himself against some long lost goal, and return to the bedroom to dress, before switching on those props of the electric kettle and the laptop, where his coffee made, a few gulps has him just roused from within, as if, landing on a "last post" thread has him fully awake yet motionless, till the goblin starts typing up some thought, or phrase, he had kept for this moment, or more often the goblin would just type a reflection of what he was thinking at the moment, or give up without disappointment, but either way, all this had long passed from that early point where the goblin had to explain to himself why he actually did it, for it, like his getting up in the morning was simply habit, "...and who needs any reason for habit..." he asked himself now, continuing "...it just is habit..."


fleamailman 04-25-2011 08:59 PM

repost from elsewhere

life's angels were not there to be nice but to help one find oneself, and the goblin had fought them often enough, but still this snow like slot, at the bottom of the thread here, was his journey to self the goblin felt, not theirs then, so his steps compacted the snow once more, and then more snow would just cover his footsteps again, but that was life he knew, though as long as he trod onwards, on this thread too, he was still winning the "unwinable", for in writing what else mattered then, in fact what else could matter now


fleamailman 04-25-2011 09:01 PM

repost from elsewhere, just sharing

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, you have nothing to worry about me now..."

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fleamailman 04-26-2011 09:00 AM

repost from elsewhere

"...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 his dailylife, that homage to 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, nor is it a belief either, it is just 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 just that much clearer for his having written about it too, "...that's what this posting is to me..." voiced the goblin in the empty evening room once more, before the next demand of dailylife called him away once more


fleamailman 04-26-2011 09:02 AM

repost from elsewhere

the goblin had the last post for now, "...in fact, we live the "last alive" lives too..." he ventured, continuing "...so many previous livers then, who probably thought as little about us now, as we do about the future generations to come...", 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 perhaps that manual of life hadn't simply stated "for selfdestruct, press the christmas-binge button"..."

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fleamailman 04-26-2011 01:27 PM

repost from elsewhere

somehow the goblin had changed, saying "...before I started this muse's pact, I might have been someone who had wanted happiness, but now, I know that if I had been content, I wouldn't have even seen, nor felt, nor understood half of what goes on around me...", outside, in that hum of this late city's night that contrasted, or complimented, the methodical ticking clock on those white walls around him, and with that countless majority beyond that, who still wanted "to be happy" here, and yet, the goblin's feeling at this point was one of awareness and depth, "...happiness is just one color on the palate of life, I need all the colors to create, I want to mix those colors together, the sadness and the tears on the one hand, with the joy and laughter on the other to create something beautiful, but above all, I don't want know the outcome, oh no, this author mustn't know how life's story ends, even if that ending is the same for us all isn't it..." said the goblin feeling the need of this "last post" thread once more, the clock ticked away his moments but every moment here was worth it to him he felt now


fleamailman 04-27-2011 01:10 AM

repost from elsewhere

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

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fleamailman 04-27-2011 09:48 AM

repost from elsewhere

which was the very 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 then, don't mention the housing crisis, unemployment, the price of petrol, global warming, the troops in Iraq and alfghanistan, 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


fleamailman 04-27-2011 09:52 AM

repost from elsewhere

"...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 slot 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 for making this a open thread then..." shouted the slot after the goblin who was now heading towards his bath in compliance


fleamailman 04-28-2011 01:27 AM

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

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