i was dead. somehow, somewhere along the way, i finally died. im really not sure how it happened... consumption or possibly something completly different... the point is, i was dead, and i was also a ghost. my occupation in life was now to haunt a small family of wealthy women. two older ladies and a small girl. they lived in a well furnished, old victorian style home with large windows and green window frames. my company and advisors (i was new at being a ghost) where two other ghost ladies, quite a bit older than me. it was hard to learn the tricks to haunting a house such as this...
all the new things i could do with my body where over whelming to me. Contrary to most ghost stories and tales, i could not fly. i could, however, separate my limbs and then they could fly. but only for a short distance. i remember one time as we were walking through one of the upstaiors halls, we came across one of the old ladies residing in the house. as a rule, we could not touch her... she was a bigger lady and we had to get around her somehow to continue our walk down the hall. my friends dismembered themseves with ease and floated around the lady, behind her and over her head their limbs flew. i watched them put themselves back together again once all their body parts had reached the other side. this was a difficuly thing for me to do. my arm wanted to float everywich way exceppy where i wanted it to go. my friends laughed and instructed me. finally, after much concentration, i managed to collect myself all up on the other side of the lady. i could also jump very long distances with ease. i found it difficult to learn these traits.
it seemed as though there were a thousand new things i had to memorize. one of them being, if it was daylight and you were busy haunting around in the upstairs of the house, if you happened to come across a bell, you better not ring it or else HE would take your ghost-hood away... this was hard, becuase ghosts love to ring bells, but i simply had to refrain myself.
now, HE was the ghost of all ghosts. the grandaddy ghost, if you will. and HE just happened to haunt the same house that i did. i had no say in the matter, of course, or i would have picked another habbitat for myself. you have to understand, HE was acient. haunting houses thousands of years before i could even imagine... possibly the firsy ghost! he was huge and he was especially mean. HE knew the rules and his passion in life was not to haunt, but to inforce the rules upon other ghosts, especially new ghosts such as myself. lucky for him i was assigned to the same house. HE terrified me. so much, that after a while i could hardly bring myself to come out at night to enjoy the pleasures of haunting my old victorian style home. i sat, alone in a dark closet and listened to him stomping up and down the hall ways, breathing heavily, just looking and waiting for me to make a mistake... the closet was dark and cold and lonely, but i would not budge. i had come too close the first time...
the memory was still clear in my ghostly mind... the time i was exploring the house. it was day light and the ladies of the house were downstairs doing something-or-the-other to busy themselves. i found the narror staircase leading up to the topest floor of the house. i gently pushed the door open and was delighted to hear it creak in a haunting like way... but what lay before me delighted me even more... the room was a sort of collection room. the ladies of the house, being well on in years, had used this room as a display case of the pretty things they bought themselves through life on their various trips and excusions. the room was an eclectic collection of old trunks, lacey things, feathers, pretty little trickets and beads and dried roses. in the middle of the room sat a antique vistorian style table with a hat box sitting on top of a doily. the hat box was adroned with some of the strung beads and a few dried roses. but it was the object in the middle of the box that caught my attention... it was a bell. a beautiful, small brass bell. to you, it would seem simple. there was nothing ornait about it at all. but to a ghost, it was a treasure. i could not say why, afterall, i was new at being a ghost. there was just something about it that drew me closer. as i advnaced upon it, i heard the warnings of my advisors in my head... "you must NEVER ring a bell in the day light! HE will come for you..." but being young a foolish, i pushed the warnings aside and pressed on. the bell seemed to have a soft light glowing over it... a soft bluish light, beconing me nearer... as i drew near to the bell, something in the back of my mind felt him coming closer... an eerie, dreadful feeling came over me. as i came closer to the precious trinket, HE came closer to me... ready to tear me apart for daring to touch the bell... HE was coming up the hall... every second i came closer to the bell, HE came closer to me... i reached for the bell, overcome by the mysterious power it held over me...
suddenly, something touched my hand. i looked down and saw another hand. the hand of a boy. i looked up and straight into the deep, dark blue eyes of jon-boy walton. he looked at me with a look i had never seen before. he looked at me and he gently said, "please. don't touch the bell. i dont want him to take you away. i like you too much... please... " and i backed away from the bell. HE pulled back also... down the long dark hallway, he receded, away from me and away from my new friend. i was never tempted to touch the bell again. something in the way that jon had looked at me... he was my friend, the friend that i must have needed so badly. and then i was sitting with jon somewhere, doing something... just being friends. being together...
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
that was the dream i had last night. as i wrote it, i realized how funny dreams are... at least this one was... i recognized a lot of things in the dream out of things that have been happening in my life within the past week or so... my dream was a sub-concious compilation of the goings-on in my head. and the part about jon-boy walton? i guess i have a little t.v. character crush on him. i really do. he is handsom and polite and nice... *sigh*... anyway...
sometimes i just dont know about things... so instead of trying to figure them out, i think i'll just run from them.
non-conformity is a fad. its the popular thing to do. something that most of you will grow out of someday, joining the rest of normal society in your mundane daily tasks. a few of you will stay back, with me. mostly alone, refusing to conform. hopefully, finding someone else with similar views and opinions, similar ways of life. hopefully, to become friends, possibly more than friends. but that will happen to few. most of you will conform.
conformity is also relative. like, im sure some of you think im so full of sh*t right about now... thinking i dont know what im talking about. but, unlike most of you, im also realistic. sorry, you will conform. thats just the way it goes kids.
i really am full of it today. too much time alone to think things over in my brain.
*sigh*
all the new things i could do with my body where over whelming to me. Contrary to most ghost stories and tales, i could not fly. i could, however, separate my limbs and then they could fly. but only for a short distance. i remember one time as we were walking through one of the upstaiors halls, we came across one of the old ladies residing in the house. as a rule, we could not touch her... she was a bigger lady and we had to get around her somehow to continue our walk down the hall. my friends dismembered themseves with ease and floated around the lady, behind her and over her head their limbs flew. i watched them put themselves back together again once all their body parts had reached the other side. this was a difficuly thing for me to do. my arm wanted to float everywich way exceppy where i wanted it to go. my friends laughed and instructed me. finally, after much concentration, i managed to collect myself all up on the other side of the lady. i could also jump very long distances with ease. i found it difficult to learn these traits.
it seemed as though there were a thousand new things i had to memorize. one of them being, if it was daylight and you were busy haunting around in the upstairs of the house, if you happened to come across a bell, you better not ring it or else HE would take your ghost-hood away... this was hard, becuase ghosts love to ring bells, but i simply had to refrain myself.
now, HE was the ghost of all ghosts. the grandaddy ghost, if you will. and HE just happened to haunt the same house that i did. i had no say in the matter, of course, or i would have picked another habbitat for myself. you have to understand, HE was acient. haunting houses thousands of years before i could even imagine... possibly the firsy ghost! he was huge and he was especially mean. HE knew the rules and his passion in life was not to haunt, but to inforce the rules upon other ghosts, especially new ghosts such as myself. lucky for him i was assigned to the same house. HE terrified me. so much, that after a while i could hardly bring myself to come out at night to enjoy the pleasures of haunting my old victorian style home. i sat, alone in a dark closet and listened to him stomping up and down the hall ways, breathing heavily, just looking and waiting for me to make a mistake... the closet was dark and cold and lonely, but i would not budge. i had come too close the first time...
the memory was still clear in my ghostly mind... the time i was exploring the house. it was day light and the ladies of the house were downstairs doing something-or-the-other to busy themselves. i found the narror staircase leading up to the topest floor of the house. i gently pushed the door open and was delighted to hear it creak in a haunting like way... but what lay before me delighted me even more... the room was a sort of collection room. the ladies of the house, being well on in years, had used this room as a display case of the pretty things they bought themselves through life on their various trips and excusions. the room was an eclectic collection of old trunks, lacey things, feathers, pretty little trickets and beads and dried roses. in the middle of the room sat a antique vistorian style table with a hat box sitting on top of a doily. the hat box was adroned with some of the strung beads and a few dried roses. but it was the object in the middle of the box that caught my attention... it was a bell. a beautiful, small brass bell. to you, it would seem simple. there was nothing ornait about it at all. but to a ghost, it was a treasure. i could not say why, afterall, i was new at being a ghost. there was just something about it that drew me closer. as i advnaced upon it, i heard the warnings of my advisors in my head... "you must NEVER ring a bell in the day light! HE will come for you..." but being young a foolish, i pushed the warnings aside and pressed on. the bell seemed to have a soft light glowing over it... a soft bluish light, beconing me nearer... as i drew near to the bell, something in the back of my mind felt him coming closer... an eerie, dreadful feeling came over me. as i came closer to the precious trinket, HE came closer to me... ready to tear me apart for daring to touch the bell... HE was coming up the hall... every second i came closer to the bell, HE came closer to me... i reached for the bell, overcome by the mysterious power it held over me...
suddenly, something touched my hand. i looked down and saw another hand. the hand of a boy. i looked up and straight into the deep, dark blue eyes of jon-boy walton. he looked at me with a look i had never seen before. he looked at me and he gently said, "please. don't touch the bell. i dont want him to take you away. i like you too much... please... " and i backed away from the bell. HE pulled back also... down the long dark hallway, he receded, away from me and away from my new friend. i was never tempted to touch the bell again. something in the way that jon had looked at me... he was my friend, the friend that i must have needed so badly. and then i was sitting with jon somewhere, doing something... just being friends. being together...
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
that was the dream i had last night. as i wrote it, i realized how funny dreams are... at least this one was... i recognized a lot of things in the dream out of things that have been happening in my life within the past week or so... my dream was a sub-concious compilation of the goings-on in my head. and the part about jon-boy walton? i guess i have a little t.v. character crush on him. i really do. he is handsom and polite and nice... *sigh*... anyway...
sometimes i just dont know about things... so instead of trying to figure them out, i think i'll just run from them.
non-conformity is a fad. its the popular thing to do. something that most of you will grow out of someday, joining the rest of normal society in your mundane daily tasks. a few of you will stay back, with me. mostly alone, refusing to conform. hopefully, finding someone else with similar views and opinions, similar ways of life. hopefully, to become friends, possibly more than friends. but that will happen to few. most of you will conform.
conformity is also relative. like, im sure some of you think im so full of sh*t right about now... thinking i dont know what im talking about. but, unlike most of you, im also realistic. sorry, you will conform. thats just the way it goes kids.
i really am full of it today. too much time alone to think things over in my brain.
*sigh*
posted by april at
7:51 AM
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