In My Library - A Ghost’s Diary (Limited Thought Edition)

Note to self:

I die today; that’s all I know. To put it in perspective, it’s the only thing I have ever known and will ever know. I think. Not that I’m sad about it though. I’m not even sure if I can tell sadness from any other emotions anymore, because what would be the point? I can’t be more dead than I already am. I didn’t know death would be quite boring. Unlike all the talks and discourse living people do about it. What a drag!

First Entry:

I remember today, just not the date though. I never could write down the date on my journal, mostly because I’m quite ethereal and maybe writing things down do need something more corporeal. Maybe that’s why I tend to forget things. I should take notes more. I have to take notes more. Isn’t it a little too late now? I’m not sure. But I’ll work it out. Me and problems? friends. Close friends. Best friends. But that’s no problems though. Really. Problems are just chaotic solutions to things that are not meant to be. Maybe that’s why I’m dead. Curative of life itself. Maybe life needs to get rid of me in order for it to live. Pure selection of the fittest. What a romantic notion! Not that I’m much of a believer in romance, but golly this is quite good! I’m sorry if I talk too much and quite so loud, dear listener, or reader, either one is fine, but not really. Gotta be quite silent. I am in a library after all. Bad is me! Respect for the living, those who are still figuring things out. to the glory of escaping life into the transcendence. Isn’t that the goal? To live forever, in any form but corporeal. Ahh. Again. Repetitiveness in my wordings. Not good. I guess I should have read more when I was alive. But I do feel surprisingly lively now though. Not sure. Gotta peak at the dictionary and the thesaurus, or the whatchamacallit, one of those things they call computers. What magnificence! Human inventions. Inventing more words everyday too. I love it. I like it when things progress. I hope I can too. Learning more and more everyday, side by side with those who are kind enough to keep their textbooks open while they sleep in the library. I could take my tie remembering. I can take my time reading and learn. I do take a long time to absorb information though. I’m sure I have seen today’s date in so many papers, but apparently I black out so very often. And so it is lost on me. The date of the day. Pardon me. I am having a moment of contemplation. If you can’t hear me I’ll say it a bit louder, respectfully though. Ghosts are still human. That’s not really true though, isn’t it? Why am I not making any sense today? Sorry for the lack of coherence. To whom? To my audience of course? Gotta be apologetic when failing to address yours truly. My lovely family taught me so. I think my mother would be furious when she sees me now. Dead and not gone. Not a nice thing. She likes things nice and neat. And this is definitely not it. And my father is a piece of work I am telling you. He demanded a lot of structures, and sometimes chaotic structures, if that makes sense. Barriers too great for me to step near. Oedipal? What does that even mean? I don’t like all these new terms they coined. Isn’t it too simple? Yes. Yes, I do get it that for lack of better words that these words and concepts are formed. To contain and expand. Easy. I get it. I just hate it. sorry. don’t like it. Not hate. Hate is a bad thing. And most bad things are vengeful. But enough of that, I am going to come up with a bunch of words that entail experiences after death. I bet no one would come up with it. And the words are going to be quite long and glorious. Still. I do have to find a way to write things down first. Oh I know! Maybe I can borrow the hands of one of these lovely people in here. Possession is all the rage for the living I think. They write a lot of literature on it. I’m sure that one of the ghosts tried it. Golly! I’m not sure I should. It’d be rude I know. Can’t take things that’s not yours. (Is that the rule that apply to the dead?) I’m not sure. But maybe if I spend enough time rationalizing, then I could convince myself. What a funny thought. Practical though. I am literally rationalizing right now. It starts with a joke. I think I’m funny. Who said ghosts are mean and monotonous. No one dead I digress. Ugh. That was another joke you see. I’m getting the hang of this being dead thing. Been doing it all my life. Err. death. Tss! Wait. I am getting quite sleepy. Not the right word again. But maybe tired for sure. I thought ghosts come out at night, then why am I dissipating? What a drag!

Next entry:

I die today, a long time ago. What’s the difference? Oh hello there! Pardon my rudeness. My dear audience. I think you know that I’m quite not alive. Maybe you could see that. Or not. Ha! A dead joke for you to lighten the mood. Gotta keep things lively in here. See? I can still joke. Not funny? Well that’s your opinion then. What’s the date today though? You can’t answer? Why? I have to learn it for myself? How? I’m dead. I can hardly remember my name. Been dead a long time you see. No one uses my name for many many years so I forget. Not that it matters though. I’m more interested in when I am. I truly don’t remember. Write it down? Are you kidding? I have no hands. Shut up! You know what I mean. what a jerk. Making me shout in front of all these nice people trying to read. Fascinating things these people. Learning and progressing. They even invent things if they know enough. You think one day they can create something that can bring someone back from the dead? Like the doc Franken and his pet cats? you know cats. Always have minds of their own. I have some ideas about turning them into dogs. Way better. What? You don’t know the story? How illiterate! Read more kid! Well yes, I am too a kid. But that doesn’t mean I know any less than you do. I know how dead things are, what it feels like, what my limitations allow me. See? Living things, no matter how old, don’t know these things, and they do try to get closer to it. Such a shame. Gotta live it to learn it. Ha. Another dead joke. I really can’t help myself. My father used to make jokes you see. What a guy! Always trying too hard. And my dear mother. A piece of work I tell you. She loves pie. She loves me. I wonder where the both of them are now. It must have been quite some time. Why are they not here with me ? Such a drag. Who leaves a kid in a library alone for decades. Bad parents that’s who. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t say that about people. It’s not nice. My family taught me so. Hey! I’ve got an idea. Just gotta borrow one of these nice people’s legs and walk around. I could just return it to them when I found my parents. Maybe they’ll understand. I’m a kid. They’re going to just say no? I don’t think so. As long as I portray myself as a nice suburban ghost, and from the working class no less. People would empathize. People love broken things. Like when they break trees and make books. Break mountains for stone. Collapse their own society for a chance to advance it. How do I know all this? I am in a place with a lot of books, mate. And I may as well learn as much as I can. That’s all I can do anyway. And who knows. Maybe. One day not long from now. I would break down into little particles and be on my way out of here. Does that sound doable? Who knows. Gotta try something anyway. Coming back to the land of the living so it’d be less boring. Hmm? I don’t make any sense? Well. Do you know anything about kids? They dream. They dream to hope and they hope to dream. They even do it much more than you know. Some amazing kid dreamed of explosives a long time ago. To break things in order to create. Clever lad. So very clever indeed! I heard it has led to many important things. Important good. Important bad. All in the name of courage and progress. Not that I can be so opinionated on it though. Since I don’t really know enough to have an educated discourse on the dichotomy of good and bad. It’s all these people in the library ever talk about. How boring. I have much more fun when some groups have heated discussions about heroes and superheroes. Much more my kind of thing. There are superheroes that operate best during the day. And some operate quite good at night. Some of them live. Some of them die. Some of them disappear; never to be seen again, except in archetypal stories - if you like that sort of thing. Things exist, then it doesn’t. Much like ghosts do. Much like me. Another moment or two, I like to pretend that I’m somewhat of a superhero, and vanish into the ether, having fulfilled my role for the day. And I do, you know. And then I’ll start again. Early and soon. What a drag!

Last Entry:

I die today, or maybe I will die. Again. Soon. I know it doesn’t make sense. You’re mad at me. I get it. But let me explain. Please! For old time’s sake. It’s really important to me. I hope we will be friends. Close friends! Best friends! I do. Stop shouting please. I think you’re disturbing the good people of the library. Your family should have told you to mind your manners. My family does. My parents are good people. They must have been worrying sick, waiting and looking for me. I have a theory that I learn. Superheroes must sometimes do tough things, and with the help of friends, it all seems quite possible. But sometimes sacrifices have to be made. Powerful this sacrifice thing. And I believe that is the most powerful driving force of all human dynamics. Trust me. There are not many things I remember anymore, but I still do remember someone important sacrifice something for me. I know it doesn’t help when I say things like that. But being dead has its perk. I know that embarrassment doesn’t work on me anymore. Bet you didn’t know that. Humans and all their living have all these spectrum of emotions you go through. How boring. Being dead and you can just be yourself and no one is really there to judge you. To humiliate you. To harm you. To take you over. Like what i’m doing right now. Let me show you what I mean. Just for a quick moment. There! You’re the same height. Same build. Maybe even the same age as I do. I get it. I’ve been waiting for you all along. Try getting into people who don’t have the same ethos and I’m asking for trouble. No wonder I get awfully tired every time. Possession? Excuse the language. I’m merely experimenting. I’m trying to be clever. Like that one kid I’m not really sure the name of. I think he got lucky and resurrected his pets or something. awfully clever that kid. Having undead pets. What a concept! But look, your mouth moves when my mouth moves. Your hands move when my hands move. And your legs move when my legs move. Stop shouting! You’re making me scream quite loudly in front of all these people. And your parents who come here with you to take you home everyday they would scold you right hard for being petulant. Listen to me. They’re nice people. Maybe I’ll ask them to help me find my family. Your father is a psychologist. He’ll understand me. I love it when he talks about archetypal stories to you, and tell you all these terms and jargons that I find extremely unpleasant. And your mother does seem like a real nice person. Does she cook? Maybe if I ask she’ll try and bake me pies like my mother does so well. Until I find my parents at least. Surrogate parents. What a good use of a break down of the nuclear family. Anything goes. Explosive idea I might add. I think I can write things down now. Today. When I get home to my surrogate parents. First thing I’m going to do is to write down today’s date. And with any luck. I’ll tether with you around town to look for my parents. I’ll return your body to you when I find them. If I don’t forget that I’m inside your body. Ha! A joke. I’m kidding, kid. See? I’m using a trick from the magicians to distract you from the trouble you’re having. I think there are some superheroes that use magic. They don’t always get what they want. But when they do. Ooh wee! Great stuffs. I’m starting to like your family. You all are like heroes to me now. Rescuing me from being dead. You broke death. You can break death into life. Who knew... Say now... It’s very possible now that you can help my parents back into their livelihood again too. Explosives can displace, dismember, disembody, but I’m sure you all can help with that. We’re turning into quite experts of life of the undead after all. Maybe I’ll live this life again, until I die. Again. I’m sure I’ll have much more fun next time round! since I understand how I can navigate life and death now. I can learn more things. I can learn forever. Putting my parents back will be quite easy to me. You’ll be right on my shoulder. Like a guardian angel. Night and day, protecting me. And I’ll keep vigilant, and protect you too. Like a brother. I gained a sibling just like that. Let’s go now. I’ll try talking to you again to you tomorrow. To the back of my brain you go. It’s getting late. I know so since your father is grabbing me by the shoulder, and your mother ushers me towards the door. Golly goo! What a drag...