the spirit laughs, softly of course as if she herself controled the wind through such leaps of breath. "the world is so colorful!" she smiled thinking on it. "So many odd things exist in this world, so many differences, it is a wonderful thing! No matter what the being is, or whom they are, all things have their slight changes. And, it reminds me of something i use to say quite often in my 'livily -hood'. "There is no such thing as a 'straight line'". And there isnt'! think on it, a straight line can not exist! now, some fought with me that, perhaps, a computer or laptop can create a perfect straight line. well, i have a way to prove you wrong!" she laughs again and waves her hand in the air happily. "a computer may, in fact, seemingly create a straight line and thus your point would be true. But! look at that computer itself. it is not straight! a computer, seemingly straight, creates a seemingly straight line in the same direction as it's curve and thus the line is straight, but is is not! for your eyes play tricks." this topic always got the spirit in a bright mood, eerily almost, and her form started to take shape again. "And in thus i state that the fact that no 'straght line' exist proves nothing can be perfection. nothing! and why? because the most beatiful of all things are only so for their imperfections! and, if all things were perfect, there would be no differences in the world!

The chameleon returns after playing a couple of gigs "too early for this.." and stretches his aching limbs after sleeping for too long, more tea he thinks, get the fire on, and to business "... to love then, as the Spirit mentioned, a strange business indeed, and what can you say about love that has not already been written, I guess I don't often talk of it directly, purposely distracted by other things, is it because I care not to love again, other than the never ending love for my kids, a very different thing..." as more wood interrupts his train of thought, I am getting through it by the ton, and pauses to retrieve some more from his wood store, his latest love then, wood "... although I have sought it of late..." he continues his wood lust sated for now "... indirectly, though happy and contented without it, which is the start required I suppose, I have reached out and felt for it, ready to be loved, but cautious of returning it perhaps, analysing it, considering the consequences of succumbing of falling too deep in that sea of irrationality, so like the time I quit from being a taxidermist, for doing a half assed job, there is only one thing for it then, I think I will give up and buy a dog"

"It's been a few days, busy with stuff and a slight hiccup of a system restore, a self inflicted cock up, good job it's Linux then, that tolerates me, another repost then to get back into things and change the mood"

"yet, paradoxically we have all been shaped by war, and in particular the gun, and ultimately has it not bought us peace, in the final stand off, albeit as mini wars rage on, fuelled by the Kalashnikov, and the pacifists dream of no more war, that one wish, could only be achieved with the disappearance of the human race, and not the gun, for even without the gun, war would still rage, as man would soldier on, I see no Utopia on the horizon, other than the one I am in, where I am free to sit here by my fire and ponder on things such as this, where if randomly I had been born elsewhere I would be slipping in a magazine, or planting another car bomb, more worryingly, so could my sons, rather than just being children then"

"It is lovely to have you back." whispers the spirit as she floats along, taking in the words and photos. her wandering is aimless, as is her existence in this moment.

"If you call me I will always be here", and would the spirit do the same he wonders, who has also been quiet of late "... until of course, eventually, I am left alone talking to myself, and then that is the time to wander on, leaving what you have done behind, though carrying it with you to pastures new, starting again with a different audience, the same for sure, but there are nuances, and always some that appreciate you more than the most, a free spirit then, merely a ghost, disappearing into the ether of the internet, out of reach, gone but not forgotten, for in the mind of some I will still exist"

"If ever needed, I too, would appear." she whispered. "I shall atempt appearing more so...there are, as of the way that life doth flow, things that can stop one, even one as I, from appearing, but should I be needed I shall always appear."

repost from elsewhere

without the actual line to go on, the goblin just imagined that it was that the fact that he had stated that he didn't feel himself to be of any forum, which had merited that above reply, but no, much as the goblin did appreciate the forums in themselves, after all, they were venues where the members came together, they were not set in stone, neither were the member's loyalty, and the goblin had been around since the BBS days, and none of those forums are here now, so he had to understand that they were here now, yes, and that they were each different too, but they, like members too, came and went here, saying "...imagine that I thought here was the only site on the Internet, and placed all my posts here, and next the folds, or the server goes down, or bans me, or that someone trims off the threads, or that the site migrates, etc., ..." the goblin stopped, looked at his original line again "the forum just happens to be, and instead one must look to ones persona and the integrity of ones posts", and with that in mind the goblin just started talking again, saying "...oh, I am happy to be here, promise, and to share our posts too, but I am too old perhaps to think at forum level now, I think at persona level, only interested in what others have to say, of course, while constantly storing my posts across forums, what other way of seeing it is there are you thinking of then..."

The chameleon comes in from the cold "You know I have posted that umpteen times and never had a response until now, although, ironically it is often used as a counter put down, and is designed to shut them up, and it always reminds me of my Grandma, my Na, who was a clever old bird, and when I got up to do a eulogy at her funeral, I commented on the fact that all her favourite grandchildren were there, and that obviously her biggest favourite was me of course, or so I thought, just like all her other favourites sitting there thought they were her favourite too of course, a clever trick she used to use, and now every one of my sons think they are my best boy, and my expectations I tell them "To be happy... and the rest is up to you", much better expectations to live up to then.

“...elusive isn't it, oh yes, one can see it for oneself, sure one can, ah but can one clearly explain it to others now, that's what marks one as a writer in my view, this shared life then...” mentioned the goblin of some people who could visualize well, and of others who could recite well, where only those who did both well, understood these words from experience now, saying “...me, I am not even what I have written before, no this internet doesn't even remember what one posted yesterday, so a live writer is very much just that then, only a few posts in front of his own oblivion always, a survivor on this internet, pacing his journey to self here, yes, but never actually stopping...”

"is this my thread" asks Jats, puzzled "... it's hard to tell some times, not nearly random enough" and then the chameleon picks up the theme again "well one tries flogging the dead horse sometimes, thinking is it worth it, and then a jewel arrives a silver sapphire amongst all the blue, and then the spirit is lifted, as this prize is unearthed from the glittering gloom, for all adversity must have reward, must it not, to stand back upon reflection, and take pride in a small accomplishment, a thankful word, a job well done, that sense of self satisfaction, mixed amongst the toil"

"Kings and Queens of lore wander now, as I, a spirit damned to the world whence they lived and breathed. They now wander seeing what comes from them and then, oh then, they see how forgoten they are and how their teachings mean nothing any longer in the vast existance of all things. Thus their gems and jewels, their very beings, deminish and their luster dimms as they fade away, perhaps in sorrow, perhaps in joy for the new world all around them and their old world. Who knows." the spirit muses as her mind trails the past.

"Bonfires and light sleeping seems a continual theme for me at the moment, and I enjoyed that post Flea, which will turn up somewhere on here, in my thread or yours, or ours it seems, and for all its melancholy it set off triggers in my mind..." as another seasoned log goes on to the settled fire one of many from a midnight raid to the abondoned log store that I found yesterday, which I intend to slowly rape and pillage, until it is as dry as its lovely wood "... and as I returned walking along the canal hearing the ice forming alongside me, gazing upwards at the twinkling stars in between the converging snow clouds I thought of my little ones, as The Plough loomed into view, as I have taught them to do so too, for no matter if we are apart, we are always connected up there, as it slowly drifts by with certainty, and so, sitting here now, paused and thawed from my flurry of activity, your post reminded me that, very soon, I will be sleeping lightly again, always doing so when they are here, waiting for that instant alarm call of the unexpected, the inbuilt protection instinct, that they will only be aware of when it is their turn".

Off on a tangent, Randomly, with a repost from elsewhere...

"That reminds me" he smiles fondly at the memory that has been triggered "...last summer, on a boiling hot afternoon, I asked the boys to clean my car, knowing full well I would have to re-do it myself later, but the lure of the hose was too much, and they volunteered happily, resulting as I knew it would, with the predictable water fight occurring with the neighbours kids. After joining in a bit myself, I retrieved the hose and finished the car off, and they continued the fight in the neighbours garden, and were still having great fun when I had finished, so I went into the house leaving them to it, and avoiding a further soaking. I cooked dinner while hearing screams of whoops and delight through the window, now playing some made up game on the trampoline, and when I finally called them in to eat I was towelling them off one by one in the kitchen, as they shivered, and hearing that the game had degenerated into a little bit of show me yours and I will show you mine, between the boys and the girls, and then Joe said earnestly "I have never seen a Vagina before..." we all paused with baited breath, even though I was already impressed at him using the right word "...I always thought they were a hole but they are not are they, they are just a big slit going upwards not sideways" at which point myself and my other sons looked at each other, and burst out laughing, as did Joe. There seemed nothing to say really. Ahhh bless, his first encounter with that deadliest of creature"