We Are All Mad Here Forum Music!

repost from elsewhere


"...well now, we can't ever go back home in this life, but admitting to oneself that one is lost here is half the battle so to speak, for then one can find one's bearing anew..." mused the goblin looking at the forum as very much to his liking now, appreciating that posted song too, then adding "...so this journey to self continues, where this forest of forumland needs this sense of direction, lest it waylays you from where you should go ..."




214

repost from elsewhere


"...well I never write otherwise..." replied the goblin appreciating this forum's tolerance towards him, but then continuing "...simply, one has to ask oneself why most writers narrate their works with such amazing fluidity but then when it came to their posts it all seems that same old dull directness each time, where isn't it the truth that that author is still the same author in both his published works and his posts too, so perhaps more authors should stop compromising to that boringly dull norm and give their readers their fiction writing style instead, I mean what a waste of obvious talent and imagination...", all lies of course, in fact the goblin was no more in control of his own writing habit than an alcoholic was on that drinking habit, sighing "...ah, but who needs an excuse for one's habits now, the words just flow from my pen then, and besides, what would forumland gain if I ever pretended to be one of you greedy humans here...", at which point the slot just reminded the goblin not to make the post too long as normal folks didn't read this far


164

repost from elsewhere

"...welcome to our forum here and to forumland in general too..." went the goblin, doing his bit to welcome those who had welcomed him, continuing "...where in fact for all its outward appearance of diversity you'll probably only ever meet four types of humans on forumland here, their being, the ignorant who don't know of your posts, the morons who ignore your posts, the sheep who read your posts, and the nutters who actually reply...", at which point the goblin, who felt that he had covered the topic of forum readership to a tee here, asked "...so does this in-depth analysis get me that nobel prize for literature I wonder..."


164

("...would this music be what you're looking for..." inquired the goblin linking them now, then adding "...you write well but not nearly as well as you will, don't give up...")







repost from elsewhere, just storing this here now


"...yes it's like quicksand then, simply one races that spambot to stay afloat..." smiled the goblin explaining "...yet the groups places on this website are quiet and secluded if such be your need then, whereas the forum itself is more like a freeforall where only the most tenacious of posters can possibly post against that spambot remaining ahead of it...", in fact, the goblin often bumped anyone's genuine post too helping it stay fresh, yet if it were some ad out the blue for someone's book, someone who never posted he meant, he'd allow the spambot would sink it, sighing "...alas post and run like that is often the bane of writer's forums...", whereupon the goblin hoped that xxxxx would make out here, asking "...seeing how badly I write would you or anyone else ever trust me to review anything really, ah but what if you found a forum that had a hitcount, and what if you then posted your book in segments upon that forum there, wouldn't the number of times those posted segments got viewed kind of reflect its readability, I mean it's as then say then it's not it's perfectly written that makes it pulling, it's that it's pulling that make it written perfectly..."

repost from elsewhere, the "how old are you" thread

in fact, the goblin had noted that when the old man had been younger he had been a more external person there, whereas alas today his external has been taken over its surroundings even to the point where one soon notes that he is either playing some expected part within his dailylife or more simply that he not taking those youthful risks like he once did, merely he was old not only by his external appearance but also by his internal understanding of what consequences each action in turn had, yet this goblin persona within the old man was someone else again, for the goblin had no age, nor was he ever answerable to those others around him who either accepted him slowly here or quickly barred him, smiling "...ah no, I'm definitely me alright, where I often wonder if I'm not more me like this, as this goblin persona now, than as that old fart there who keeps doing whatever is expected of him each time...", just the goblin was a persona at this point and as such was merely a personification of some alter-ego that was behind it then


217

repost from elsewhere

"...ah now, the reality is that the reader only ever gets to see these written words just reading the author's vision from them then..." replied the goblin thinking what was done was a sort of wizardry in its way, continuing "...though what those readers read from these written words here is both individual and depends as much upon the magic of the writer pull as it does upon the imagination of the reader...", just that the reader was in effect blind where the author had to relate a vision that the reader to see, smiling "...so we deal in visions then, not that that makes it any less real in the reader's mind, no, it just makes it fiction I suppose, a fiction that cannot be proved or disproved...", and perhaps that too was what was meant by virtual reality here, and yes, most writers had dealt in virtual reality long before this internet had come along, save they had called it by its other name back then, that of fiction perhaps


164

("...hardly a day goes by where I don't post something..." replied the goblin thanking the mouse for her company still, then adding "...though my actual writing moments masked by my editing, that line when fluid write when dry edit seems apt then...")


repost from elsewhere, the "afterlife" thread

the goblin turned up, and then explained "...in life, there is only this journey to self here, that you can know of for sure, in that, some people will talk about lots of things that make sense attaching still more things they will then ask you to believe in, even as far as to offer you an eternal reward or punishment depending on whether you accept their given line as the truth about your afterlife...", somehow the goblin knew that the next bit was harder but he continued "...so imagine the first of two choices, that you accepted their argument to its full, and did exactly as told to because that reward or punishment that was coming later, now what would that tell you about yourself here and how truly base you are then, simply your actions would be based on self-advantage, something like taking out a mortgage on heaven perhaps where every good action you did would be some further contribution towards that mortgage then, wouldn't it...", so the goblin just offered the second choice by saying "...now imagine the other choice, that all your actions good or bad were based on your own judgment of them, no expectation, nor reward nor punishment here, just you knowing yourself by what you do, well if you can imagine these two choices clearly then, and can still choose the latter of the two, thus defying any notion of buying god, or the devil and anything else for that matter, saying "I do not look to reward in my actions, those actions are the reward in themselves", then for an eternity you could hold you head up high and look your maker in the eye, saying "well, you may not like my choices but at least I was as honest to them then as I am to you now too"..."


51

repost from elsewhere


"...thank you for welcoming me to the future than..." replied the goblin, adding "...if we ever get to have one that is...", yes, somehow the goblin knew one could leave reminders in this "here and now" for one to find later, continuing "...ah, but they only turn into voices from the past when one actually reads them in the future..."


50

("...I always read anything you write here, giving you a readership of one at least, but I'm sure your would prefer to be replied to than read then..." smiled the goblin looking out upon the rain of chamonix where the same front covered most of the alps today if not europe then, adding "...the old man has been ill and under the weather too, his birthday was marked with no one bar me wishing him wishing him well, and the memory that his father who died on that day too, so I guess he sees it differently now...")

repost from elsewhere


"...easy, post whatever you like as you see fit for you are as if on stage here, improvise then, and when stuck ask yourself simply "what in life is worth posting", remember too, you're entirely unknown, yes it's ever a masked ball on the internet here isn't it..." ventured the goblin over his coffee at his desk again, where he knew well that most people just played I win/you win on these "last post" threads, which was their choice he guessed, though not for the goblin, not for someone who then tried to post to a benchmark of self or upon whatever interested them, knowing that it actually evolved them through the practice and effort they made towards it, "...and no, not just in their penmanship now..." remarked the goblin, remembering some posters posted jokes, while others were into smileys, others illustrated, etc., to which they, if they were at all similar to the goblin that if, had then probably collected it all together into a collection for themselves, often reposting that collection elsewhere too, so the goblin returned to the topic, saying "...just post anything that really seems you to yourself now, but not just anything though, where if you don't post anything at all, then your dailylife wins in your place doesn't it, yes people put down posting anonymously a pointless profitless madness perhaps but in truth the reason why I post on like is it itself, without any real reason to do so..."

repost from elsewhere

"...it's just a paradox then..." went the goblin thinking upon it now, relating "...in that if one explains something as obvious as one's overall readership will grow by incorporating one's writing style directly into one's posts it will either ruffle the feathers of those who didn't as yet accept that fact, or further alienate those who wished not to be reminded of that fact anyway, whereas if one keeps one's mouth shut posting on like this, up goes the readership anyway, thus proving one's point without much effort on one's part, so I think I'll go easy on explaining what I do for just doing it instead, letting both the readers and the writers alike, as well as normal people too, see for themselves then..."


210

"...thanks for the compliments then..." replied the goblin thinking the mouse was progressing well on what was after all something very subjective, something personal like her journey to self here, before adding "...just one wades through karma posting like this, where the posters come and go, where writers rush past one on their wish for fame and fortune, and where forumland is not real neither, posters seem like ghosts don't they, but no, one's ghosts of the past are far more real than posters are, they stay in the back of your mind and appear upon your opening a slot, perhaps awaiting your pen to dispel them, perhaps aware that your pen only feeds them further, anyway for me a least livewriting is an exercise in honesty where the muse's pact holds to her words honesty, and thick skin, and a share life goblin for a journey to self in return...", years later and the goblin is still here

 

repost from elsewhere, the "what are you doing" thread

"...me, I am trying to have "thoughts a plenty" but failing that I suppose I'll try to think of something, but if I can't think up something, then I'll just go through my day on autopilot I guess..." confided the goblin, then adding much like an afterthought perhaps"...and besides, whoever said that life is for the living was sold on mere experience of it in my view, for surely this life is also what one gains out of one's experiences then, after all, what's the point of having any experience, good or bad, if it is simply forgotten afterwards...",  where one of the goblin's ghosts just smiled back at that point, remarking sarcastically "...ah, but you do know that none of your petty afterthought conjectures will ever change me now goblin, any more than it could change what happened at the time either, so you're welcome to spar with your past my friend, only that you're lashing out at a shadow that you can't actually touch there goblin...", whereupon the goblin, looking back, replied"...agreed, but if all this turns into you ghosts as you point out, then how else is one ever going to know which ghosts one is beckoning still, other than by figuring out which ones one has met to date..."


75

repost from elsewhere

"...so the passion just comes to its climax each time, and then I'm stuck back in my reality once more..." ventured the goblin to the muse over the coffee table in his usual bistro now done up in christmas style now, continuing "...so I am no longer sure what really gives me the most pleasure here, oh yes, I have those needs, like everyone else has, which can be relieved by indulging myself, yet they only seem to return me back to myself afterwards and always at a price too...", somehow to the goblin it was the same for drink, as it was for food, and for those computer games too, in fact for whatever then just everything returned one, but the muse just looked back at the goblin till, after a while, she opened up her empty hands to him saying "...well now, that does rather betray your age here goblin, I mean, if you really do understand at this point that "everything returns you to yourself afterwards", then simply you've swapped your previous delusions for your present day disillusions, which admittedly is progress all the same...", and, although the goblin could follow her logic clearly, he could never quite tell if she wasn't actually laughing at him too


76

repost from elsewhere

the goblin was simply recounting here, the scene today of two men dragging the dead stag by their ropes across the snow, and how a clear trail of red marked their slow progress, and of course the people on the mountain-train looking on were so dismayed at it all, so the goblin had to explain something to them, saying "...folks, it's the hunting season where only the males are killed, and where those trappers, since there are no big predators left in the alps today, play the part of the wolves now...", in fact, it was almost too easy to forget that most of the animals of the forest met their deaths at the jaws of other animals, adding "...oh yes, nature might be beautiful and most picturesque at times but it is still cruel all the same..."


76

"Well, that renews a recent thought"
Somehow, it almost feels impossible
to escape that journey to self,
in writing or whatever else.
My dailylife has been afflicted
with an odd silence for some time now.
Within it, I have realized,
that this distance to those who
value my advice was not only theirs.
I feel an absence of epiphanies
stirred by my own words
simply because I have not
heard them in some time.
So it begs to question.
Were they ever even meant
for anyone but myself in the end?
Who would have thought,
that a question such as that
can just drop the temperature
so far into the abyss like this."

---

"First time for everything!
I thougth upon your last post...
while I understand,
and highly respect your viewpoint,
it makes me churn over in my seat.
Humans strive to fill nature's role too much.
I don't put it past them to try,
only wonder at the result it would have.
I mean, cruelty is an intentional act,
one that could be attributed to ones nature.
Even predators let the prey simply be
if none of them are actually hungry.
Nature is unfair, I do agree on that,
and my knowledge might be limited
these things may as well be deeper,
but I know of only two creatures
that seem to only kill for sport.
First one being some domestic cats
second being certain people."

"Now that I think of it, it begs to question
the nature within one is varied
especially with humans.
Do these things change?
If they do, then it never really was
a matter of nature, right?."

("...your writing gets better, a few years of this and they'll see you by your posts, as the mannerisms ingrain themselves here..." smiled the goblin appreciating the mouse now)

repost from elsewhere

the goblin wants to be by the seaside now, he wants to paddle the cold retreating surf just above those crashing waves looking for that ever elusive carnelian that shines with the reflected setting sunlight on his way homewards, somehow the goblin knew too that if he ever found that gem it would be a gift from the great sea herself to him alone, something worth far more than anything a jeweler could ever offer


15

repost from elsewhere

morning and the goblin is not quite ready for the clear cold crispness that awaits him outside, for first there is the getting up to do right "...morning narrator, you're up early what's the plan for today..." asked the goblin only then remembering his need for a pick'me'up coffee, the narrator then mentioned breakfast, a bath and hitting his inbox once more all to the television news in the background, "...sounds good, any other distractions then, I mean we don't want to become too sane too quickly do we now..." mentioned the goblin who felt he could just about glimpse the great metropolis through a thin gap in the curtains, so the goblin walked up to the window, saying "...no, I am not ready, your minion still wants his distractions first..." pulling those curtains tightly together again


19