Monday, November 26, 2012


Excerpts From A Ghosts Diary


July 16th, 2003
     Hello diary!  This is my first entry of what I’m sure will be many.  I mean, what else do I really have to do?  Where to start? Well, I’ve been a ghost for about 6 years now.  I have no idea why I am a ghost, I did not suffer some great injustice in my death nor do I feel I have unfinished business on Earth.  I just died and next thing I know I’m floating around the netherworld.  Well, not exactly floating.  It is quite annoying, to be honest.  It’s mostly just like walking, but the maddening thing is that your feet don’t exactly touch the ground in any firm kind of way.  There are stray currents blowing through the ether and a strong eddy can actually dislodge you and move you against your will, maybe 5 feet, maybe 100 feet. You are kind of at their whim at times, especially if it catches you off guard. As you could imagine, it can be annoying.
      I must say it has not been as much fun as I thought it would be.  It’s not as if I had been given a choice, but I’m sure many people would have signed up for the chance to be a ghost and do all kinds of cool ghost-type things.  At least they may have seemed cool.  The reality is a bit different  At first the passing through walls and spying on people was fun, but when you see the disgusting things people do with themselves in private it kind of takes the joy out of it.  Also, forget what you see in magazines and movies, people in real life do not look good naked!  They especially do not look good naked when they are doing things like exercising, or clipping their toenails or nose hair.  Worse yet, in private, people are always examining weird parts of their bodies, contorting themselves in front of the mirror or on their bed, poking and prodding in places they shouldn’t.  I don’t even want to go into the self-abuse. 
     I have gained a new appreciation for porn actors and directors.  Seeing people have sex in real life is absolutely disgusting!  The fact that filmmakers can make sex seem erotic is a minor miracle.  It quickly lost its fascination when I realized that I could no longer do anything about my sexual urges anyway, and soon the urges ceased altogether.  If there is anything I could ask of the living, it would be this:  please act responsible when you are naked, and please have the lights out as much as possible.  You are really traumatizing us ghosts and making our earthbound suffering that much more horrible.

September 27th, 2003
     Hello diary.  I know it’s been a while since I wrote, but there never seems to be enough time in the day!  Oh, that’s a lie.  I have just been kind of depressed lately.  I guess I am just lonely.  I can’t seem to meet any other ghosts with whom I have any thing in common.  Every other ghost I meet seems to be from the civil war, or from Victorian times, even a few spirits from the colonial period.  I guess that’s what you get living in the east.  I suppose I could go out west, but I fear I will just meet dead cowboys, miners and prostitutes.  What’s  really depressing is the few American Indian ghosts I’ve met.  I can’t understand anything they say, and they just seem very bitter.  After a frustrating minute or two of trying to communicate with me, they just give up and sulk. 
     Then there are all the other spirits that are simply spheres of light.  They seem to have no interests other than ruining people’s photographs.
     I had thought in death I might find some of the answers to life’s mysteries, but alas, there seem to be no answers.  It’s just day after day, moving about and wondering about the meaning of it all.  Forget about asking the other ghosts.  They just moan or whine over and over about some unfinished thing they want to take care of, but of course they can’t now.  I swear, ghosts are some of the most self-absorbed people you ever want to meet.  Everything is me, me, me! I was poisoned, I promised my girl I would come back from the war, they thought I was a witch!  Enough already ghosts, we’re dead; get over it!

December 23rd, 2003
     Well, it’s almost Christmas.  Needless to say, I won’t be getting any presents this year either.  What would anyone get me anyway?  Who even knows I still possess a consciousness? I don’t really care. 
     I have decided to stop going to see my family on the holidays.  First off, there are always ghosts of family members hanging around and I didn’t like most of them while they were alive.  My grandmother just complains about not going to heaven and being with the angels and such, but if heaven doesn’t want her around what in the world makes her think I do?! Seriously, death gives you a perspective on family that really could have come in handy when you are alive. 
     Worse than seeing the dead relatives, in all honesty, is seeing the living ones.  It’s no fault of their own, but for them, life goes on.  They move on and every year your memory fades a bit more.  It gets depressing to see that they miss you less and less.  Being dead somehow gives you a different perspective on the living (duh, really?!) and you slowly come to understand that you were never really as important to everyone as you think you were.  It’s easier to deal with now that I’m dead. I think it’s a by-product of the whole passing over thing.  It’s like you see everything from the outside looking in and you can cut everyone and yourself a little slack.  Again, it’s another thing that would have come in handy for the living.  Life is strange.  Wow, some things I still haven’t gotten used to.  I mean “death is strange”, of course.
     I must admit though, it does give me a little bit of comfort sitting in some families living room on Christmas eve, after they have all gone to bed.  Just me, alone with the tree and the presents.  It’s then that I have an ache for the life that I have lost, even if it really is just the idea of that life.  In reality, my life didn’t contain many wonderful Christmas memories that I cherished when I was alive, but I sure miss them now that I’m dead.
     I also look at the milk and cookies people leave out for Santa, and I can’t help but think about what a waste that is.  Parents know that Santa is not going to eat those cookies.  What about us ghosts?  Surely if people can waste all that food, they could just as easily leave a radio on with some Christmas carols playing for all the lonely ghosts sitting in their living rooms on Christmas Eve, remembering the past.

For part 2 go here

© David Ferraris 2012

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