The Goblin in the pipes does not have a mind of his own. He is a spectral mirror, taking over the cerebellum and the auditory cortex when you are not in absolute, conscious control of them. The Goblin in the pipes is an agent of bedlam, chaos theory in action, transforming the random gurglings of water running down the pipes into a subliminal babble. You can hear him just after you begin to sleep, and just before you gain consciousness, muttering in gobbledygook, urging to the surface forgotten fears and unimagined anxieties.
The Goblin in the pipes is just noise, not quite white, not quite brown. Deep and literally guttural, it is as if the pipe itself is trying to speak through the language of water, but cannot form the words and sentences or guide them with considered thoughts. These gaps are filled in by random neurons firing between the brains, partial recognitions of phenomes and phrases. Between the water and the neurons, emerges the Goblin in the pipes.
It is the fear of the unknown, the struggle of filling the gaps of comprehension, that provides a trigger and a platform for the paranoia, suspicion and dread to express itself. The Goblin feats on the suppressed psyche, seeding fright and amplifying agony. The Goblin sits nervously laughing, while you thrash around in your sleep, unsure of what is gripping you or whispering you ideas from beyond the dark void.
PS, I tried to go for round two, but it didn't happen, simply hovered somewhere between consciousness and sleep. So I decided to wake up and write this down.
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