repost from elsewhere, just sharing
the goblin sits in the bistro again, readying his brain for "take off" that is, "...ah, just a little more imagination and I will be out of here in my own world once more...", though meanwhile he just looks at the group of middle aged men chatting and drinking away next to him, dismissing them as somewhat old school, "...ah now,
there, but for the grace of this Internet, goes me then..." he types into the slot observing them still, while the white wine remains ever their preferred medium of escape it seemed, adding "...their choice I know, and perhaps it's the same escape we all seek too, our escape from dailylife, though tomorrow they'll just be back here once more, while I'll be editing this portrayal of them I guess, this is, of their drowning in their drinks only to be flung back onto some shore of sobriety afterwards in some senseless repetition, at the same altar again, that same ritual, with exactly the same result...", not that this shore of sobriety was very forgiving for that matter, for what did it ever offer one instead now "...and what does this life owes anyone anyway..."asked the goblin once more as he slipped away onto the Internet now
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