Ghosts, an overview

GHOSTS FLOAT FREE, GHOSTS

lack solid grips on worlds inhabit. Ghosts manage sans solidity. Within every breath we breathe in & out souls of ancestors, ancient enemies, et al. We respire the evaporated remains of the dead. This is a fact of the world. Later facts may contradict.

Ghosts lack free-movement, lacking as they do basic motor function, musculature and a nervous system of real substance. No one knows if they can even conceive of movement or any concept at all conceivable for that matter or whether their solitary sojourn around and about the world is nothing more than a series of sensations. Brutest of realities. Sensum Sensorium of data. Greatest of our minds'll know one day as will we all. Experience: the best teacher. Same sayable of all tokens of post-experience which no past-experience can alter.

Ghosts have no memory, ever in want as they are of brain tissue. Each moment stands alone. What constitutes a moment? At present epochs unknown.

Enters the ghost, wafted inward He is and hither in the wake of the gleeful child. Now in a new home the ghost flails buffeted by a new storm. Ages spent lifeless, longer than lifespans of deathless bloodlines, outlasting the acoustic ripples of the breath of the humanity He loved when His thoughts were cogent and His heart was of flesh. Eyeless eternal eyefuls enjoys He of the best/worst His flock has blithely offered Him this latest infinity. His ethereal sensitivities have felt each curve of Earth. No thought put to how much longer His curse must last. This, His curse of love for these, His children, for these, these kids in this house, for this His world.

From creation until His birth He lofted along the winds of this at-that-point--on-an-epic-scale-truly--empty Earth. Betwixt patchworks of humanity lay eternities to scatter in the wind.

From Ascension onward He’s confronted life well and poorly lived and if His thoughts were graspable, by Him even, even in this state, they’d be troubled. For a week now He’s floated in the countless countermanding streams that circumscribe and contrascribe this exurban town. Today this is His home and once more He is static sensation.

A woman sits at a computer-desk in front of a computer. He’s seen many times this object and understands intuitively it without ever having the slightest awareness that such a thing exists. He’s seen such a thing thousands of times, has absorbed its electric essence as he has beheld and felt the hurricane-birthing disturbance of the furious tapping of the keys, rapidfire the flesh of these strangers He worships, even those that know him naught. He knows nothing of this, though. Currently He lacks a frontal cortex. Its physical imprint lay deep underground and far away. It itself has less a hold on existence than He Himself does in this cross-dimensional chemical-electric state. Some day, if He could think to Himself he would think, it will return. All of I will. But for now the ghost floats. A dog jumps through Him as through a fog and out this house He once more exits only to return through a kitchen window on the surf of a mid-day breeze shortly thereafter.

All life is eternal. It exists in a matter imperceptible but for its susceptibility to the air currents and magnetism and chemical electrical activity and gravity. But strangely each and every ghost “lives” in its own spatial-temporal dimension. To each ghost there is an identical earth. Each ghost wanders the world alone. If ghosts could feel they might care.

That fact of the world may have contradicted.

This ghost has no recollection of His creation, has no idea to what extent He played an active role in creation. He was born to a Semitic woman in what He will one day recall as being the Middle East, a name-phrase he has picked up oblivious to its import as much as to its object as much as to the touch of the sound of it on the electro-magnetic echo of His worm-devoured ear a hundred thousand times the past century. Upon His birth He recalled all history, syncretized what wisdom He could from the vast data collated in His being, and brought light to an en-shadowed people.

His next coming will be His first opportunity for regret.