We all have our inner goblin, wizened dweller-under-the-hill, unlovely creature that knows in its bones it is unlovely. Sometimes it is the goblin that stares back at us in the mirror, and all the blinking and head-shaking in the world will not restore the happy image of our ego ideal. Some people's entire persona is constructed around managing the goblin within, whether by maintaining an unbreakably smooth surface of human personability, or by running around jumping out at people yelling "look! goblin!" in the hope that the unbearable will become normalised through repetition.
We all have our inner nonce, energy vampire, runner of rackets, presumer upon others' patience. Noncing is about getting needs met in underhand ways, by positioning others so that they cannot help but feed us. Everyone has a desperate part of themselves that will resort to manipulation, provocation, entitled arrogant demandingness, to obtain for itself what we fear others will never willingly give.
The goblin nonce is the goblin self put in charge of our energy supply, running the show, demanding love for the unlovable. A low extortionist, a dazzling performer, skulking and smirking but never smiling in the happiness of mutual recognition. Not your best side. But sometimes a virtuoso, always an event, always a saga. You know when you've been goblin-nonced, when you've been compromised, diminished, and the other person's joy has increased as a result. You know when you've been the goblin nonce, when that payoff, that glut of satisfaction, is tinged with acid reflux, a nagging intimation that, ok you got one over on the other guy, but weren't you, you know, a bit of a prick about it? Was all that really necessary? Couldn't it have been done more honestly and straightforwardly, in a way that respected and uplifted everyone involved?