theatrical_muse #16: Ghosts
Do you believe in ghosts?
No.
That’s like asking if I believe in Santa Claus or the Tooth Fairy or some other figment of imagination that should remain in childhood.
I believe in more interesting things. Like, I believe in the possibility of one day ruling over my own planet. I feel very strongly that we’ll start colonizing other planets - starting with the moon, then moving on to Mars possibly. If I start the competition now, then I’ve got a good shot at taking over Mars. I’ll be queen. I deserve it.
But, ghosts? No. That’s stupid.
Because, I had to come to terms with death early on. My dad died. Am I going to give you details? Hell no. But the point is, he died. His ghost never tucked me in or told me a bedtime story. He never popped up while I was at ballet or in school, all transparent and creepy. No. Never.
If there’s an afterlife, then I’d like to believe that the spirit or soul or whatever moves on, to heaven to hell or just to a bar somewhere. Whatever. I want to think we move on. I don’t want to believe that we have to roam around the earth watching everyone we love - and, for that matter, everyone we hate - keep on living. That’s sick. That’s torture. And I don’t want to believe that happens, to anyone.
So, no. I don’t believe in ghosts.
No.
That’s like asking if I believe in Santa Claus or the Tooth Fairy or some other figment of imagination that should remain in childhood.
I believe in more interesting things. Like, I believe in the possibility of one day ruling over my own planet. I feel very strongly that we’ll start colonizing other planets - starting with the moon, then moving on to Mars possibly. If I start the competition now, then I’ve got a good shot at taking over Mars. I’ll be queen. I deserve it.
But, ghosts? No. That’s stupid.
Because, I had to come to terms with death early on. My dad died. Am I going to give you details? Hell no. But the point is, he died. His ghost never tucked me in or told me a bedtime story. He never popped up while I was at ballet or in school, all transparent and creepy. No. Never.
If there’s an afterlife, then I’d like to believe that the spirit or soul or whatever moves on, to heaven to hell or just to a bar somewhere. Whatever. I want to think we move on. I don’t want to believe that we have to roam around the earth watching everyone we love - and, for that matter, everyone we hate - keep on living. That’s sick. That’s torture. And I don’t want to believe that happens, to anyone.
So, no. I don’t believe in ghosts.