Ghost Stories

It is not worst at nights. Sure, it does not feel good when I lay my head down on the pillow and my thoughts and feelings are starting to make room for themselves after a days work of keeping them at bay. But it is not worst at nights. It is worst in the mornings. When I have woken up and is getting ready for the day. It is worst then. When I once again realize that I have to get out, I have to breathe, I have to taste life, because staying inside gives me too mush time to feel, too much time to cry (when I once again realize what I have wasted). When I realize that I will once again pass through this world, this town like a ghost. I feel like a ghost. Looking at other people. Seeing other peoples lives and loves. Crying with them and for them, but always invisible. Always a ghost. Walking around, walking about and never having any real aim, any real goal. Nothing to go to, nothing to come home to. No home to come home to. And even if I had, what would be the point of going there?

So, I am a ghost. I spend more time with people I love than I have in ages and still... I feel more nonexistant than ever. No point. I am not attached to this world. I lost my anchor.

I see people, I meet people and they have fun. And I want to know what they are having fun with. And they tell me, or show me. And I don't understand. I want to understand. I want to have fun with them, I want to laugh and be friends and all that. I just don't get it. Have I travelled that far from humanity? Have I, in my foolish quests for some sort of personal development beyond the herd gone so far that I am a completely new species? And I don't want to lie or pretend and act like I understand the joke just so I can get to hang. Not anymore. I've already done that, in other crowds. I am beyond that, almost physically. And I have also been given the luxury of letting myself be myself (at least the part that I could, to myself, admit was (and is) a part of me). And going back to something else, something less... No. I don't have the energy to act, to play games. Fuck it.

So, I am a ghost. I am not bored. I am nothing. Because ghosts aren't real. So I spend my days looking at real people. I spend my day drinking coffe and smoking. I spend my days just waiting for time to pass. I spend my days regretting. I spend my days waiting for it to end. Or start.

And money... I hate it.