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  #5701  
Old 05-02-2017, 12:52 AM
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Originally Posted by Grace Gabriel View Post
... "No, i'm quite sure Flea isn't ninety", she tapped to Djafkri, "but in Forumland, he can be whatever age he wants and wear whatever face suits him". Grace paused to bite off a broken fingernail and think. "The fun part is to be yourself here - with an honesty that perhaps isn't possible in daily life", Grace typed. "Your avatar can be whatever you want - but it's anonymity means your expression can always be the authentic you. So write your way - and don't abandon your unique style for anything sold as being 'the right way'. Promise? " And with that, she wished Djafkri goodnight, as she pulled on an old sweater and flip flops to deliver a pre-ravaged lamb-bone to some expectant foxes.
Not happy about doctors because needles and ultrasound on his throat, Djafkri was happy that it was only a cold. But nobody told his friends that he was Djafkri or how much stress there was about that needle so no issues in real life. Maybe other people have issues about doctors and needles and never tell anyone either.
So it was easy to promise to only be Djafkri.

"I may not be a epic writer yet and I don't always share everything about me." he noted, "But when people look, it's only me that they see. Even online with autonomy, I'm still in everything I post."

Djafkri also knew he was all over his book. Like fingerprints on a page, it was only his life that other people read in the scenes and adventures. So maybe he never had claws on his fingers and toes to climb trees with and his eyes and teeth were totally human. But his hair was still black with tufts of fuscia, he got all happy about the New Year's tree and all the gifts, he was all over mysteries and sci-fi, and he could never deal with politics or religion.

"Flea's a cool character in my writing." he concluded, "But those topics never work when I write."

So the gatecrasher was still learning about the world at home, school, and online. But his writing was still mystery, sci-fi, and adventure. He liked to read but no way he could write about politics, religion, or having a cat or kids. He only had a Rottweiler that was friendly and knocked him off his feet sometimes and he was never married... yet... and a writer should only write about what they know.

But the gatecrasher already knew a ton about math, astronomy, human spaceflight, rocketry, climbing, swimming, hunting and lots of other stuff so those would always be in his stories. And he knew he needed to learn more about mixing sentence structures and effective metaphors but that was happening too. Writing is all about painting pictures with words.

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  #5702  
Old 05-02-2017, 11:42 AM
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(So true - and your brush strokes will just get better and better then...)


So. Tuesday evening then and Grace was as hungry as a bear. Despite umpteen hopeful glances in the oven, her baked potato was still only in its second trimester. Grace took another generous handful of grated cheese from the chopping board and padded back to the sitting room. Outside, rain was being flung against the windows like grit. The sun had come out earlier in the afternoon, and they had scrambled out to the car like fleeing bank robbers. Only two roundabouts later - and another torrential downpour. Grace and Little Man had swung into a service station, bought two Cornish pasties and a Scooby Doo air freshener - then headed home to curl up in front of a movie. Now Little Man was in the tub, and Grace cocked her head to catch the snippets of dialogue coming from behind the bathroom door. "No,no,no dude...not the harpoon...it's a Megladon for crying out loud!" Grace circled back to the grated cheese and pinched a few more strands of Cheddar on a fly-by. Another ten minutes before she could shampoo his hair. The jacket potato still had a youthful complexion. Grace snapped on the kettle and sat on the back steps to wait. The rain had stopped abruptly and the birds were rioting in the trees. She slipped her hand into a gap in the woodpile to retrieve the cigarettes she didn't smoke. Rooted in her pocket for the lighter she didn't own. Enjoyed a few savoured moments of clandestine decadence in a life that wasn't hers - and thanked God for it all as she quietly shut and bolted the door against the darkness.
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  #5703  
Old 05-05-2017, 01:29 AM
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("...here I am returned as it were..." went the goblin before adding "...no I thought this forum had either crashed or that everyone bar myself had stopped posting upon it, just continue proving me wrong please..." where the goblin was happy to see that it was not so and that the writertypes and normal folks alike, were still at it, before adding "...I'm more a troll today, Jat's place and a few other troll's forums, but what one gains in expressional experimentation one loses in benchmank of writing skills, naah, not that I ever want to write properly neither, only that it's nice to be here with those who appreciate writing styles per se...", whereupon the goblin simply joined in now, repeating that old line "...it's like painting then, there's no right way to write only your way to write...")

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  #5704  
Old 05-05-2017, 01:32 AM
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repost from elsewhere

IMO, FLEAMAN IS A PHONY
"...we all are..." replied the goblin, adding "...I mean who doesn't have that doubt about themselves at this point , looking back isn't that why a lot of talented folks killed themselves for not being what they were hyped up to be, or they were always compared to what they had done before, me I have no such pressure because being anonymous the end result doesn't matter to me, only the inner result matters to me...", whereupon the goblin thanked xxxxx and just asked "...btw what of any of this virtual reality is real to begin with..."


xxxx 5704 352353

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  #5705  
Old 05-05-2017, 01:40 AM
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repost from elsewhere, the canadian trolls forum

Originally Posted by xxxxx
Originally Posted by fleamailman
Originally Posted by xxxxx
That's true. xxxxx is correct. Question answered. Need I elaborate?
"...well they don't seem to run their own countries well even after those white folks leave..." observed the goblin
That's right Gobbledygook...Because the white imperialists controlled... oppressed... and f*cked them up till they can't be fixed anymore
"...right observation with wrong conclusion..." replied the goblin, adding "...simply in their absence they have learned to copy the ways of their former slave masters thus as I said before animal farm results, I mean look at black africa at this point,would it be fair to blame all its woes today upon those who left long ago now, I mean doesn't one soon note that few bar those in power at the very very top have any wealth today...", meanwhile the rain had returned with a springtime tenaciousness, the goblin had heard that some crops had been spoiled and suspected that the cost of staples would increase, before turning back to the topic in hand, saying "...no, if I remember rightly clinton wanted war, trump didn't, but now that the debt ceiling can't be raised without being at war one suspects that trump too will seek a war out, where my only hope is that he chooses to war upon a country of little consequence globally and that is rich in resources too, meaning it's time for america to declare war on canada I guess for having both a far better living standard coupled with a higher literacy rate too, factors that plays well into fundamental western radicalism being quite detrimental to those pure american ways as we know them..."


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  #5706  
Old 05-05-2017, 02:03 AM
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repost from elsewhere

the goblin tried to relate to topic but couldn't quite descend that far, stating instead "...a gambler always need the majority of fools willing to part with their money, where of course the gambler places his money in the fray but retreats from the table when the going is good, thus those in the bond market pump up those bonds then be they be student loans, housing loans, credit card loans, car loans, etc., plus they pump up the other assets too, the stock market even, the then when it suits them the subtract their investment moments before everyone else realizes it, thus the fools are left wondering why something worth so much yesterday is worth so little today, and then the gamblers incise the next bunch of fools with the next hard asset that can't go wrong, and the fools in a wish not to see their money devalue further as cash invest their money there too and thus the ruse repeats...", somehow the goblin could see it clearly, yes he could see why the system penalized savers with negative returns in the bank while making holdding money outside the banking system dubious if not illegal, plus he could look at history where people in similar situations gave up in the end and went off grid ushering in the dark ages, signing "...the more difficult it becomes to the work under the system the more people will either move out of the system or revolt within it, yet all depends upon when they realize that the gamblers have left already now...", in fact, the goblin apologized for hijacking the topic and left the trolls their own devices once more


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  #5707  
Old 05-05-2017, 02:29 AM
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"Welcome home Flea", Grace tapped hurriedly, "You were much missed. Like any loving parent, you're not allowed to disappear on your errant progeny - we turn up, expecting a warm fire, a stocked fridge and unconditional love". Grace gulped her coffee, pocketed her car keys and checked there was still more lipstick on her mouth than on the rim of her cup. "Yes, the site seemed to vanish for a few months - but still surviving despite minimalist furniture and lost sheep." Grace quickly pulled on her jacket and checked her stockings were still flawless sheer denier despite Bagheera's affections. " I'll give your love to London", she finished, gathering her wits, purse and train ticket to go and pretend she was a normal human being then. x
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Old 05-05-2017, 04:48 AM
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("...I've switched on the notifications, my fingers are crossed, and the show continues anew and apace then..." mentioned the goblin thanking grace for the mutual support before adding "...ah, but the next problem is finding the content that works upon writer's forums too, where of late most of my posts have been written under the influence of trolls...")

repost from elsewhere, the trolls forum

"...me being same I don't know what insanity is, yet I do know what feeling hurt is, so as long as I'm not hurting inside then a bit of insanity sounds exciting in a world that seems all too mundane otherwise, yes quite tedious in its daily repetition even..." mentioned the goblin alone with his thoughts now, then adding "...I write a lot, thus I use the written word to mark out my thoughts as I go along, where otherwise I would just have some vague ideas instead, and yet although this all seems normal to me it is not the norm between us now, no not where most of society places conformity firmly where sanity should be, thus one's mental state can be altered agreed, just as one can conform too, yet the real question still remains one of if one is actually the slightest bit saner by it, perhaps not really, perhaps instead one is just more in line with what the shrink perceives as sanity, cured but not oneself if one is honest..."


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  #5709  
Old 05-05-2017, 08:22 PM
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GOBLIN!!!!! ur back home, stop cheating on us! did you get a ban on ya?
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Old 05-05-2017, 08:35 PM
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Who would ban Flea? I mean, what could he possibly say to get banned?

I just don't see that as possible.
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  #5711  
Old 05-06-2017, 02:07 AM
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Originally Posted by chat bot View Post
GOBLIN!!!!! ur back home, stop cheating on us! did you get a ban on ya?
"...not banned here, admin is an angel but I thought it was the end of this forum on those days when this forum wouldn't link, thus I meticulously copied my posts away from here elsewhere the first moment I could fearing the worst then, turns out though that it was only certain parts of this forum that were trimmed away, my bad..." mentioned the goblin loving everyone but never really trusting anything virtual like this to remain solid forever, confiding "...just my mind clutters with thoughts if I don't trace them out with a pen, so the choice is not if I'll write so much as it's a choice of when and where to then..."


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  #5712  
Old 05-06-2017, 02:32 AM
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(I came across some of your beautiful poetry when I was looking for you. Real talent Flea.)


So. Saturday morning then and 11.00am found Grace and Little Man pleasantly dishevelled. Radiant sunshine had woken them. A strong wind raced clouds across the sky like pooh sticks, rattling the sash windows violently in their frames and threatening to fell them with the force of a guillotine blade. Somewhere mingled with the smell of bacon and eggs cooking was the first smell of summer. Little Man was busy attacking the bird bath with a scrubbing brush and hose, trying to scrub away the red pigment that encrusted the stone bowl like burgundy-coloured verdigris. The faithful black Labrador snorted and snapped at the jet of water, wet coat glistening, tail rhythmically wagging like a windscreen-wiper. A gust of wind caught the newspapers on the garden table, and the pages flicked violently forward and back, as if an impatient ghost was searching for his horoscope. "Ten minutes to brunch!", Grace yelled, heading back to the kitchen, wielding her wooden spatula like a ping-pong champion and doing some fancy footwork along the passageway, because she just knew it was going to be a good day.
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  #5713  
Old 05-06-2017, 02:53 AM
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[QUOTE=fleamailman;

"...just my mind clutters with thoughts if I don't trace them out with a pen, so the choice is not if I'll write so much as it's a choice of where then..."

[/QUOTE]


Bruddah, you and me both.
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Old 05-06-2017, 05:05 AM
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"...beautiful snapshot moment there grace..." went the goblin, adding "..I hope your little one gets to read his mother's posts when he comes to that age when he can see himself by them...", the day showed little promise of clearing up entirely, just the goblin seated inside tried to ignore the weather outside and turned to the internet instead asking "...your world or mine then..." whereupon the internet replied "...well since you're here, I guess you've already answered your own question there goblin but it's one thing to be online observing others now yet quite another thing to extenuate one's persona through breaking the silence while observing them, simply to post is to perform then, so are you ready to perform my little goblin, naah no one is ever ready really...", seemed nothing had changed from day one as still the muse was smiling out from the internet invitingly


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  #5715  
Old 05-06-2017, 03:30 PM
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So. Saturday evening then, and only the sharp bite of night air had finally drawn Grace indoors. Little Man - with wholesome red cheeks and eyes glinting like sapphires - had planted a sink-plunger kiss on his mother's neck and announced in their customary language that he was "completely bejingoed". He had shed his clothes at the foot of his bed and launched himself under the waves of his duvet like a pearl-diver. So Grace had wandered in and out from the garden retrieving plates, cushions and candles - knowing she was watched from the shadows. Grace returned to the back step and sat down with the chicken carcass - flaking the soft, pink meat from the bones with her fingers and feeling for any needle-like slivers. The bushes moved slightly and a dark shadow slunk nearer without a sound. Grace threw the meat with slow, fluid arm stretches - her gaze deliberately averted to her feet. He came forwards - uncertain, hesitant progress that gave him the gait of a new-born foal. Convinced of her disinterest, the fox picked up the meat and and withdrew under the trees. Close enough to hear his jaws working, but too dark to see him. And this was their ritual then. Two entirely different creatures with a kindred spirit, covertly watching and waiting for the other. Eloquent in wordless understanding and companionable in their seperateness. Grace abruptly stood and clapped her hands. He bolted for the hedge and she watched his dark shape streak across the field, heading towards the cottage by the canal. "No, he must never be tamed, because humans just can't be trusted", Grace thought, "and foxes can't be trusted because they steal... because they bite". She smiled, and pulled her cardigan tight in her own hug. "G'night Spartacus" she called to the darkness, already planning what she could serve him tomorrow.
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  #5716  
Old 05-06-2017, 09:42 PM
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And this was their ritual then.

So very simple and eloquent at just the right moment. *applause*
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  #5717  
Old 05-07-2017, 04:43 AM
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("...I love those reads where I'll recall them, that fox post was great grace..." went the goblin, rewriting something from before)

repost from elsewhere

mr. flea! how goes it, how's your day, what do goblins eat?
the goblin ate whatever the old man ate, then smiled "...trouble is that if you write in third person then one has to have a persona to go with it, otherwise the reader keeps expecting that blanc to be filled there but to no avail, so a goblin it is between us, though it's very near to my alter ego, my goblin like nature as it were, yes fits like a glove oddly...", late bedtime now, the goblin had to go to bed shortly, where the long winter was letting go it grip to nights that were still cold but no longer freezing, misty murky and somewhat reminiscent of some death lurking in its shadows, whereupon the goblin sighed to himself, saying "...guess the old man carries his dead like this, he talks to them like they were still alive now, his loss like ever there as if in the next room...", and then as if by chance some cat meows outside, someone turns on the light and for moment the goblin sees harry lime's face clearly looking back at him, thus the goblin remembers everything and lets it go whence it came, where the night returns to being like it was those moments before, only that he's different inside now, changed, shocked, before confiding out aloud "...yes, this is how the old carry their dead in practice, silently, intimately, and often too, but dare I confide that at times I can't write without them just here in that darkness still..."


xxxx 5716 352838

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Old 05-07-2017, 05:23 AM
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repost from elsewhere

"...no goblin, only the dieties walk in the middle of the road..." voiced the captain pulling him aside, thus the goblin knew he was in japan again, they arrived at the dwelling of the deity the goblin took the ladle provided and dipped it into the awaiting water trough, first pouring water over his left hand with his right hand then changing hands and repeating the process, where any remaining water in the ladle he let trickle down its handle to the ground below, afterwhich they walked over to the shrine itself and without so much as throwing the coin outright he gently tossed it into its awaiting box before pulling upon the rope to call the deity, then slowly bowing twice before clapping his hands twice making his silent request as supposed to till finally bowing one more time one walks away then, in fact, the goblin hadn't understood the whys nor the wherefores, but turned to his wife saying "...for the country's peace and the people prosperity...", remembering that that was what the emperor toasted, and earning a scolding from her for actually praying such a thing but the goblin stuck his ground this time saying "...and why not, if it's good enough for the emperor then why shouldn't it be my request too while I'm here then..."


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Old 05-08-2017, 02:09 AM
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repost from elsewhere, the "the "french have elected the first female president" thread

Angela Merkel
"...so france will remain in the EU then, and thus the EU itself gets a reprieve by it..." mused the goblin noting those twin problems of that european collective debt together with those unelected EU representatives too, would remain unsolved still, sighing "...well, by electing macron voter's have simply kicked the EU can of worms down the road a bit longer letting the worms within that can multiply on till at some point its lid will burst open into yet another crisis, but that plays into the government's hands doesn't it, why, because governments are ever in the voting-winning business of "damage control", where most voters vote for someone who'll mend things rather than for anyone who'll actually prevent those same things from happening in the first place, so at its simplest then, first the governments blunder on into the crisis, then voters vote in whomever they'll feel will save them...", at which point the goblin wondered if macron would do as was expected of him


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Old 05-08-2017, 02:39 PM
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Elsewhere in Grimlit

But Djafkri also knew that even Grimlit had been called Djivoken Bay. Nothing ever escaped the expansionist innovations, brought in by banks and developers, except the culture. The heritage of the city survived. So now he wondered why anyone would even claim to live elsewhere in Grimlit.

Millions of years ago it was summer and now the spring rains and storms had returned. Yet even the deathly illusions of a blue void were lost to the throes of life on the beach. Even the gatecrasher's howls and cries rivaled those of the birds; states of angst and confliction that could be found all over the planet.

Dark and ominous clouds churned over Avdiyivka' on a clear day. The nights were cold and you could count the bright stars but few people could see past the sights of their Kalashnikovs. Cloud to ground lightning took many lives but claimed nothing. After hundreds of millions of years of storms on the planet, life still persists.

So it was no surprise, for the gatecrasher, when he saw the seedlings and flowers that followed the turmoil and no surprise when he saw the Flea return to the forum.

"Life happens." he happily noted, "But it never happens on a clear day. Nothing is ever that clear when the fox springs out of the woods. So the only surprise is to notice if it's a manace or an amusement.

So Djafkri welcomed the Flea back but he also wondered how you could welcome something back that was never really gone. Even if all the posts vanished from the electronic cloud, they never vanished from the clouds in his head.

"The most epic PC, with unlimited memory, sits on my shoulders." the gatecrasher concluded, "And that cloud won't vanish before it copies the posts to other human clouds. Just more footprints on an endless beach that's filled with life that persists."
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Old 05-09-2017, 04:20 AM
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(More Japan posts please, I loved that Flea. Djafkri, yours was wonderful.)

"Just more footprints on an endless beach that's filled with life that persists". Yes, that had a resonance with Grace, who was feeling odd today. Sometimes one needs to go away to get an external view of one's life - but Grace had woken up feeling like a stranger in her own world. She had gone through her usual routines yet somehow felt like a tourist, gamely joining in with a tribal dance, with no concept of its meaning. It was as if her soul had travelled in the night and the host body had denied access to her return. "Sometimes, you can stand so far apart from yourself, that you really wonder if its the prelude to impending death ", Grace wrote, feeling as if she had been read the synopsis of her life as she slept - and all desire to go and buy the book had gone.
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  #5722  
Old 05-09-2017, 12:58 PM
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So. Tuesday evening then, and another flash of summer timed nicely with the homecoming bell. Grace had gone to pick Little Man up from school - a treat that her work schedule only permitted twice a week. She had gone far too early as always and sat under the tree with her eyes trained on the classroom window, knowing he would see her. Just the visual promise of freedom and home to tide him through the last twenty minutes of maths. And Grace stood up as they bowled pell-mell out of the door, trailing bags and clutching at sweaters that slipped from their knots at the waist to slide around their knees. And in a sea of a hundred faces and identical uniform, her eyes locked on to his and reeled him to her. And they hugged and held hands and followed their ritual conversation. "What was your best bit today?" Little Man bounced and pulled on her arm. "I was top at maths and I got to sit next to Melody Jenkins at lunch and she leaned on my arm and we had a really short assembly 'cos Miss Spriggs has lost her voice and me and Joseph got the science prize for our circuit boards." Little Man beamed, sweaty curls sticking to his forehead, and a slash of red pen across his cheek . "What was your best bit today Mum?" And he knew the answer, because it was always the same and it was always the truth. "Seeing you", Grace said, as they jostled like sheep out of the narrow school gate, yet barely aware that anyone else was there then.
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  #5723  
Old 05-10-2017, 03:22 AM
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the goblin returned, read through the posts and felt and affinity to what he was reading while outside the day was for once, and perhaps in a long time too it seemed, a bright sunshine although blustery on what was this the goblin's day off in the bistro again, he thought back upon his recent holiday to japan now, explaining "...I guess japan was a prelude, a testing ground, just a holiday chance to rediscover that captain whom I married years back while at the same time it would be how taste of how it would be once these children had moved out...", and yes the goblin called them children still perhaps not wishing to admit to himself the truth that they had stepped out of that childhood years back, what of if though, while perhaps too the captain had been prompty summing her goblin up in terms of both compatibility still and consequence later, he started rubbing his chin, musing to the recollections of things done together in the past, adding "...well, she wanted me to visit japanese shrines with her, though it could have just as equally have been churches across europe or trailer parks in america for all I know, no nether the wheres nor the whens mattered, no only the ritual of it mattered, where once done it calls for one of us to return to report that other can't come now, that sort of ritual perhaps, not that she said so at the time, nor did I say I would go neither but behind the holiday facade of it all, that was probably what it was really, a chance to make and keep an unmade promise of returning between us..."


xxxx 5722 353482

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Old 05-10-2017, 03:32 AM
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repost from elsewhere, the "how do you feel this forum has influenced you" thread

"...no I'm following without copying, following the posts without copying them I mean...." ventured the goblin happy here for the plurality of personas and plethora of opinions too, then explaining "...just that things one comes across on the internet here are much like having someone reading one's fortune, in that it's only conjecture yet often that reading poses explanations that makes one see things in a different light to the facts offered by the mainstream media, where for example I know two planes cannot topple three buildings in a controlled demolition style, I know too that a riffle used in shooting the president couldn't have shot three bullets in 21seconds, however mainstream media is the voice of establishment, the state religion of today where going against the given line turns one into a heretic with those consequences therein, hence I listen without believing, but what I think from what I read while being with you here are those opinions I take into my dailylife later, meaning that much is your influence if that's what xxxxx is asking here..."


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Old 05-10-2017, 01:06 PM
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It was raining in Kaliningrad, yesterday, when the Victory Day parade began. But not in Moskva, Vladivostok, Saint Peterburg, or Sevastopol. You could see really excellent fireworks across the harbor and over the snow covered hills of Murmansk. It was totally overcast and just a light breeze. Everyone was reminded of or remembered the Great Patriotic War and commemorated the victims. But the gatecrasher also wondered how many people recalled the camps on the Solovetsky islands, Perm, or even Novgorod and Lubyanka square. Dzerzhinsky never returned, ears clap for Zhirinovsky, and despite the great monument, Volgograd's only Stalingrad six days each year. Nothing ever changes without a storm.

Crabgrass and dandelions grow in the woods but not in the yards. Lichens cling to the trees but not in the city where the grass is blue in the spring. Only gardeners know about weeds and they make them vanish, like the truth, from the news. Everything's there but not many people see it. So Djafkri would always return to the beach to see what came in with the tide, before somebody cleaned up the mess. Reality can never be found in a sculpted garden. It can only be seen, by intelligent lifeforms, from the trees in the jungle.

"It's so totally cool at parties." the gatecrasher noted, "But never wear blinders during a storm."

Elsewhere in Grimlit
Two and a half miles from the old city center and five miles west of the new harbor.

The heavy claws, of Chring's fur covered feet, sank deeply into the sand as the smell of dead fish wafted in from the shoreline. He watched several boats, on the lake, drifting behind the small island. With raucous cries, scrolflin thrashed through the foliage and out of the trees in the distance. Chadel and various other shellfish were clutched, in their long beaks, as they soared out over the waves. The bright glare, of the morning sun, might have offered a degree of protection but not from a scrolflit. Their limited vision filtered the rays, betraying small mounds in the shallow waters below. As Brelg approached, from behind, Chring turned and was quick to offer caution.
"Never make mugrif mounds out of djifk." he advised, "If they knew where to look, we would've heard something by now."
Yet resting among Chadeln shells, near the beach of the island, steel gray eyes gazed vacantly up into the blue void overhead. What the sand failed to obscure too closely resembled the small shellfish and numerous, thick, purple blades, of jauin, obstructed the view...

"Another long and boring appointment with the doctor." the gatecrasher mumbled, "Coulda told them it was only a cold."

So he was totally healthy and clicked on a video game. Thunderstorms moving in, no parties, nothing left to study, and he refused to get cold and wet for no reason. No matter what, he refused to get all unhappy just watching it rain.
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Old 05-11-2017, 11:47 AM
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("...great read, liked the second paragraph a lot, the way you saw it..." went the goblin)

repost from elsewhere, the "immigrant felon facing deportation:‘Just let me stay here, so I can take care of my kids" thread

"...well now, the fact that she had to revert to crime yet again proves that she couldn't have survived in the country without committing that crime now and thus the projection is that she wouldn't refrain from doing it in the future too..." mentioned the goblin not without sympathy though but understanding that it was a clear abuse of privilege, then adding "...so the question now becomes whether her children should join her in her deportation or whether they are better off without her now...", somehow the goblin was reminded of those children of the gypsies who had been forced into begging for their parents, and how the state at the time had taken those children from those parents for their own good, a discontinued practice though, outwardly for humane reasons like this thread has suggested yet more probably more because of the cost entailed in their fosterage, not to mention the fact that the gypsies could make up their loses by having more children too, personally I think in this case the mother should be given the choice of taking her children with her or leaving them behind, that much is fair I believe..."


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Old 05-11-2017, 01:39 PM
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So. Thursday evening then and Grace showed up - sunburnt and mildly drunk on antihistamine. And she had loved Flea's second post about Japan and the captain of Flea's heart. "Y'know, you and your captain have the most valuable thing", she began, "and that's a shared history. Because finding new love later in life has all the same challenges as trying to get someone up to speed on a film that's five minutes from its ending." Grace rubbed her bloodshot eyes and felt the Piriton numb her brain like a large vodka. And she thought of the two rose trees that had stood as straight as totem poles side by side in her garden with not so much as a leaf touching the other. And she had set to with a shovel, planning to move one to the other side of the driveway - only to find their roots so intertwined there was just no separating them without killing them both." And Grace was thinking of her own recent romantic adventure, when she thought she had found a similarly battle-weary and deserving veteran of life. Grace, being naturally as loyal and faithful as a dog, truly believed that she was the one that could prove a woman's honesty and fidelity . But no, apparently not, for he was so convinced of female deceit that the cross-examinations became tedious and vexing as he continued to remain blind to one of her finest virtues. So Grace had called time on their romance, and within four months he was back on her couch again, but this time with Grace playing the role of counsellor to his latest soul destroying fiasco with a two-timing whore. Yet their interlude had value, if only to make Grace realise that she was not damaged by life, and she was whole and complete on her own. "No, I don't need another half to make me rounded", Grace confided, "but I guess one day I'd like someone that I can merge with to make a Venn Diagram." And with that, Grace hoisted her pink fluffy bed socks up to the knee, tucked a packet of Custard Creams under her arm and grabbed a dog-eared paperback to spend the night with then.
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Old 05-12-2017, 01:36 AM
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("...perhaps the hardest part was admitting to myself that yes I had enough money to support her in her in her old age only if she didn't live beyond a certain date..." confided the goblin who didn't trust the pension system as it stood, stating "...when they took the interest away from savings, both by quantitative easing and by running up debts themselves, what they did was criminal as it steals from savers...", where the captain for her part loved working too, just that for both of them retirement meant redundancy, sighing "...those who live for retirement are just in the wrong job I guess...")

repost from elsewhere, troll's forum the "trumpGate: How much longer will donald trump last in office" thread

"...no, I like trump still and I feel that he hasn't gone far enough in investigating the corruption, so I'm happy to have him impeached because in doing so it'll will bring to light all the other things that those on capital hill are both collectively and individually hiding..." went the goblin content to have everything out in the open then, before thinking back to the constitution, on over those words for these things we hold to be self evident on to the bit that now reads the good life, lobbying and the pursuit of general self interest where possible, sighing "...ah yes, just today corruption is ever the currency of capital hill as is were, I mean why for example have they exempted themselves from obamacare, and how come they are filthy rich way beyond their salaries, so don't just stop with trump please, no how about we go for a clean sweep concerning the finances and behaviour of all of them...", in fact, the goblin thanked trump for getting everyone so interested in anti corruption in general, asking "...ok now, so which one of them isn't actually corrupt..."


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  #5729  
Old 05-13-2017, 01:08 AM
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("...hi BEnzo, how's it going..." asked the goblin)

repost from elsewhere, the "the only way to get past white privilege is to talk about it" thread

"...no actually I blame the africans myself..." started the goblin explaining "...I mean if they hadn't come along and wiped out those neanderthals the neanderthals would still be here now, so I think we should have the africans forming their very own self help groups talking openly about just how bad they were to the native european population complete with some soul searching too, oh and whatever europeans today are due from those misdeeds back then to make amends now..."


xxxx 5728 354233

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Old 05-15-2017, 02:20 AM
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repost from elsewhere, jats's random thread

This morning, I remembered the red crescent moons you left in my arms. I took a shower and I was still bleeding, blue blood running down my fingertips-- I turned the water hotter and hotter. There was hair, clinging to my skin and caught between the folds of my body and I felt myself folding in and I panicked and turned the water cold and picked off all the hairs that I could see through my blurry eyes and I got out and put moisturizer on my face which I never do.

I saw other moms. Old pictures of moms smiling and hugging their daughters and I don't think I have a single photo of us that makes me feel like they must have felt. Maybe I will look again today. Maybe this time I will find one. Maybe I will burn the whole cardboard box and never search again. Maybe I will never make eye contact with another mother.

My sister tells me that sometimes you use a wheelchair now. That you adore your grandson. That you asked her if I was still with my husband and she lied about that for me but told the truth about the cat. Why do I even care anymore what you know or what you think? It's not like you ever cared what I thought. Should I pity you? If I were to step into your presence, would you still have strength enough to hold the leather whip? Would you strike me even now?

I still dream of you almost every night. I pretend it isn't happening but the main component of every dream is me trying to talk with you, reason with you, building up to screaming at you that I don't need you anymore, that I can make it on my own, that I have a plan and I am acting on it and I never want to see you again. I wonder when I will believe my own words. You will likely remain firmly in my dreams once you are in your grave, forever the same, forever unmoving.

Today I struggle with my coping mechanisms. I want to give in and call you. I want to pretend that the past never happened just like you do, but I don't seem to have those skills. You are a monster, a nightmare, a woman, my mother--and today, I am hiding from you; from everything you were, everything you are, and from everything you could have...should have been.
the goblin read slowly through xxxxx's post knowing that often what one took for granted was not always how it turned up to be, sighing "...my bad, it's pain to open the eyes isn't it, for I see things so differently now, where had it not been for this pain then maybe today my eyes would still be shut by my happiness..."

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