Last week I found a post by the Goblin that really touched me. It’s remarkable how with each post I find by this persona it is as if he deliberately is trying to make me find myself. Or rather, to make me think and wonder about emotions, situations, actions and consequences, on life and how I handle things. In a way it feels as if he’s posting for me, that’s how personal it feels, while I know he can’t be posting for me. Or she, for all I know it could be a sixty year old woman, living in Nova Scotia, but I quite like the idea of a middle-aged man who is slightly overweight, and the black sheep of old money. Fiddles away his time drinking coffee and typing in a bistro somewhere in Geneva while pretending to be working.
Anyway, enough about me and my fantasies. I’ve found a post by him (let’s just keep the illusion alive that this truly is a man, for he claims that he writes his life, hence the Live Writing) about a subject many people have either been through, or know someone who has.
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 separate lives of 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 can one”, etc.,” but the goblin also knew that no amount of understanding puts this ghost to rest, “…time hadn’t then…” and he was struggling to say what he saw now “…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…”