oh how I hate editing posts, so why not join me at it

[fleamailman]

repost from elsewhere

morning rush hour and the man in the mirror, somehow guessing the goblin's mood, starts singing: "...crappy workday to you, crappy workday to you, crappy workday dear moron, crappy workday to you...", the goblin then imagined he could hear a whole chorus of the same song coming from the fellow passengers on the bus, and the goblin was probably right, just that the mute switch was turned on it seemed


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[Jason]

Yo, fleadude. What's with the third person aphoristic style?

Ditch that shit and come chill with us why not?

[colubridae]

Farsight, is that you?

[fleamailman]

("...thanks for the invite, but no, not yet at least, first I have a few more posts to edit here..." replied the goblin not knowing who this Farsight was, but quickly adding "...well now, perhaps the best way to prove if someone is or isn't a sock is to simply google their username, in that a sock normally has no internet history whatsoever whereas a real persona does, not that that makes the persona any more real, ah no, nothing is ever real here, just that you would then have to ask yourself how could any sock have so many posts across so many forums...", and with that the goblin went back to editing again, before doing the rounds across forumland)

repost from elsewhere

"...my children are dead, long live these adolescents..." joked the goblin not really laughing as he loved them no less now too, only that he seemed to live his life in shocks of realization as if catching up with the present day reality, that yet again something had gone from his life, and that their ghosts now called to be buried amongst the other chapters with some passing words, "...children, this clown will always be your clown and he'll remember you in his jests, I promise..." the goblin voiced, the muse looked on with approval, she liked it when the goblin was honest with himself, then he flung a handful of earth over her too, the children burst out laughing "...oh daddy, you never grow up do you..." well they would have said as much if they haven't grown up on him like this


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[Jason]

Pheh.. Google 'shazbot85' - my original and longest held internet handle. Lot's of wannabes, but I'm the original. I was Shazbot85 before it was cool.

.. strangely there seems to be a bunch of pordfrefect copycats.

[fleamailman]

"...Pheh.. Google 'shazbot85' - my original and longest held internet handle. Lot's of wannabes, but I'm the original. I was Shazbot85 before it was cool.. strangely there seems to be a bunch of pordfrefect copycats.

("...cool, then post something here that readers would like to read please..." suggested the goblin thanking ProFrefect in advance, adding "...I've got a wager with some of the others here that I won't make 10000hit before chirstmas, perhaps I'm a wanabe too, though I'm not sure what a wanabe want to be when one is anonymous now...")

repost from elsewhere

"...do you think I talk to myself slot...", "...no goblin you've got the muse and me to talk to, but mind you what with innerman lamenting the superficiality of outerman, and outerman craving "this, that, and the next thing", the wonder is not if you do actually talk to yourself, it's more how you can ever get a word in edgeways...", "...hello you two..." said the muse who popped in from the back room "..I heard that, is that you goblin worrying about whether you talk to yourself then...", "...um, well I, um..." "...yep, he sure is, muse...", the slot had noticed the goblin was seated looking down at his shoes woefully, the muse put her hands down on his shoulders from behind him "...there there goblin I am sure you're not talking to yourself, any schizophrenic will tell you that much...", the man in the mirror found the whole image rather appealing as the goblin lifted his hand to his shoulder placing it on hers saying "...thanks muse but..., ...", "...goblin..." she moved around the chair to look at him clearly, then, placing a lone finger on his lips as only a woman could do, spoke softly "...anyone can post but only mad people make interesting posters, leave sanity for shallow people, we're different...", "...that's better Your Madnessty..." joked the slot as the goblin then started typing his hapless posts once more


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[Skeeve]

Sweetholyjesuitjesus, more fleamailman. I travel the internets and without fail, I join a new forum and there you are! Editing! You have to make an account at our forum some day, I can't get enough of your posts.

[JimC]

This thread may be a little out there, but I like it. Surreal text, surreal pics, a welcome alternative to turgid internet arguing...

[fleamailman]

Sweetholyjesuitjesus, more fleamailman. I travel the internets and without fail, I join a new forum and there you are! Editing! You have to make an account at our forum some day, I can't get enough of your posts.

("...um, and I bet you say that to all the goblins..." he replied feeling uplifted by it though, before adding "...and which forum would that be now, my needs are modest and if there are livewriters there, well all the better...", but that was how it was, some places worked out while others didn't, never enough goblin to go round and alway a hectic posting pace, smiling "...you'd have to be mad to be me, but someone has to do this...")

the ghost of divorce

day turns to night, the droning darkness hides shapes and shadows of things past feels the goblin as he looks out across the lightly lit city of geneva, "...cold is king then..." he thinks aloud to himself alone with his thoughts "...and in the cold of night comes these ghosts, god I hate them as much as they must hate me too, they won't die till I do, I know that, and my mother's passing brings them back from where I thought I buried them inside..." the goblin's mind went back to his first marriage then, of letting go a little girl's hand and saying "...mummy and daddy are not happy..." and then the formalities of separation with an ex wife and a daughter of his first marriage at an ever acceptable distance, and each with new lives and partners, each understanding that "it was the only way", "the right thing to do", "one can't live a lie now can one", etc., but the goblin also knew that no amount of understanding ever puts this ghost to rest, time hadn't changed it, and he was struggling to say what he felt now, finally admitting it openly, saying "...so a death in the family puts family members back facing one another again..." said the goblin "...just our unspoken ghost will be sitting between us three I imagine, while we pretend to be nice to one another..."


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[fleamailman]

This thread may be a little out there, but I like it. Surreal text, surreal pics, a welcome alternative to turgid internet arguing...

"...well one does what one can I suppose within the limited time remaining..." replied the goblin, explaining "...so I feed to read, simply no one has enough time to read at length it seems, still less to write at length either, hence this compromise of offering a little space the writer can write a post that the reader can read, and then the reader can write back swapping positions then...", it was as if this forumland itself had proclaimed "the readership is dead humans, long live our replyship now" with the goblin at its helm but never in command of it


xxxx

[charlou]

This thread may be a little out there, but I like it. Surreal text, surreal pics, a welcome alternative to turgid internet arguing...

Certainly is ... agreed the moving body of H2O

[fleamailman]

Certainly is ... agreed the moving body of H2O

("...so we're all in agreement then..." replied the goblin not sure how things would turn out though, but adding "...besides, I meet too many humans in dailylife anyway, nah an alter ego is much more me here for neither the best writer in the world nor the most honest person on earth could portray themselves as they truly are to others now as that would be reality again, instead here is virtual reality and we are just personas by it, fiction perhaps...")

repost from elsewhere

"...who knows..." said the goblin, thinking it to be a livewriter's paradox then, that the goblin needed members to please to write well his posts, but taken to an extreme the goblin would then compromise himself by pleasing too much those very same members he was trying to please anyway, saying "...seems that even in the depth of my anonymity I still care as if I were real even..."


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[fleamailman]

repost from elsewhere

"...morning..." said the goblin in the cold pre'dawn air of a city that sleeps on in its sunday now, this then is his little bit of time to himself on his computer, and in little over an hour he will meet yet another group to take sightseeing through geneva, his role then was to take the normal and turn it into the interesting, perhaps this too, was why he is never grew bored on any forum, yes he could be annoyed by his inability to find the right idea, or reply, or line, or even a single word at times, oh and at times pushed by the clock too, but the goblin knew too, that at the end of the day he couldn't blame his surroundings for his own boredom here, no, he could only blame his surroundings for his own frustration towards himself


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[fleamailman]

repost from elsewhere

the goblin too, felt he now had to put a little bit more into his posts, perhaps the goblin would do a few more depictions then, somehow he was not seeing what he saw for what it meant, saying "...depictions force one to describe it, which in turn forces one to look at it more closely...", the muse was watching, her trick was either to give the idea to the goblin outright, or to jump in half way through his text and change everything to her liking, which admittedly was normally mad enough to have the goblin running behind her to trying to keep up with the beauty of it, simply, she was like ones granny doing a poll dance, where one doesn't want to actually look, nor miss it for the world


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[fleamailman]

repost from elsewhere

the goblin had learned to see his glass as half full rather that half empty but even so, he still needed a well brewed sweet strong coffee in that glass then, saying "...yes, for without coffee, even if my glass were full to the brim it still wouldn't give any reflection upon it..." he paused for a sip, adding "...and what is one's life without reflection then, surely people who don't reflect are like vampires now, ever dependent on the blood of others to sustain themselves here, but that's not me for I know deep in my bones, that I want to produce my own blood here...", the goblin paused for his coffee again, explaining "...well, that's if posts are the lifeblood of a forum so to speak, thus perhaps I'm proving my reflection by them too, but who knows, I mean who can ever tell what others think where they don't post much..."


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