My Ghost...

My Ghost...

A Chapter by Lucas Grasha

I cannot bare to listen to my voice…the voice that had been recorded on graduated tin paper and a diamond-tipped needle, all while being shot out through a sophisticated phonograph. The sound of it may sound like beauty to others, but it is a horrid scream to me. Just the thought of it makes my skin crawl with the legs of one million insects. I would rather have my ear drums disintegrate, melt out of my head, than to listen to the dead voice of myself.

          The feeling of it is excruciating…it is both a physical pain and emotional one. It is one that I cannot describe; it is only one that must be felt to be understood. It is like being lost in the middle of the city that you were born in…like no longer knowing the path that you have beaten and scorned your feet on. This grievance that I have with my music, my life, is one that is so horrid…

          Having your ghost live among memory…I wish that this could nearly never happen. Not to mention that my ghost can be let out into the world at any given time…any time that anyone wishes to hear that ghost.

          They gawk at the amazement of my ghost…but they fail to know my hate toward that ghost. That ghost represents something that I no longer am. They don’t understand it, and praise it effortlessly. It sickens me…both my specter and the ones who love it. I am here; my ghost is not. Why would you praise something that is dead? I would ask you to stop, but you can’t; you won’t…you never will be able to do what I ask.

          The worst part is this: I cannot kill the memory that I have already made dead. This is the paradox that I live with; something is deceased, but I strive to kill it. Why is this so?

          Some say ghosts aren’t real…but I can tell you that they are real; both in my religious sense and of the sense that I hate. Memories don’t die, and this way I am immortal. But this immortality…oh, this immortality…

 

Daniel Helle, Twenty-fourth of May, Two Thousand and Eleven.



© 2011 Lucas Grasha


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"understand it, and praise it effortlessly." No comma.

Beautifully written, per usual. Wonderful job.

Posted 12 Years Ago


Perfectly eerie, made me stay reading until the very end, great read, well done

Posted 12 Years Ago


I believe in ghost. I do my best to leave them in peace. I have felt spirit touching my head in deep sleep. Telling me to relax and be calm. I like this chapter. If you live a long life. You will be tested often.
"They gawk at the amazement of my ghost…but they fail to know my hate toward that ghost. That ghost represents something that I no longer am."
A excellent story.
Coyote

Posted 12 Years Ago


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it's interesting, The first few lines impose what many artist say about their work, a bit of self-loathing i suppose, their is always that internal battle that brings out the best in us, i enjoyed this chapter, you me friend are talented.

Posted 12 Years Ago



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Added on May 24, 2011
Last Updated on June 20, 2011
Tags: immortality, gods, ghosts


Author

Lucas Grasha
Lucas Grasha

Pittsburgh, PA



About
I've chosen in life to use the pen in place of the sword; or rather, the giving in place of giving up. I believe that I do possess a talent, but that opinion is only mine; if you would please (if you .. more..

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