ghost in the shell
‘Search me, O God, and know my heart;
test me and know my anxious thoughts.
See if there is any offensive way in me,
and lead me in the way everlasting.’
Psalm 139: 23-24
Yet, I stay here still. I should leave... just walk away... but as I'm unsure of myself, my soul remains bound to its shell; confined. Am I only free to expand myself within boundaries that have been created? In truth all things change so perhaps it is my efforts to stay the same that have limited me. Perhaps that is why a love that I had craved so much was simply unable to break down my walls and complete me.
Sometimes I wished I had not dreamed this dream so hard... perhaps then I would not have felt so lost when Reverie became reality. Till today, I have no idea why I stood silent, like a dumb mute, with no answers to his gestures. My ghost whispers contemptuously ‘ghost-hacked humans are so pathetic, it's a shame’. I can only sigh in agreement as I tell out my soul.
All I want to do now is pretend it was just a simulated experience. False, like a dream. Yet it happened. My fantasy was real. My ghost whispers sadly ‘we weep for the blood of a bird, but not for the blood of a fish. Blessed are those with a voice’. I cannot weep because I do not know how I lost mine, yet I bleed.
I dare not dream anymore. My voice is gone. My actions seem to echo those of a coward. But I tried. I swear I tried... so much so that even distance could not come between us. My ghost whispers mockingly ‘no matter how far a jackass travels, it will never return a horse’. My thoughts shift suddenly to Italy. Alone in Milan with the lure of speed as my only friend. Life raced by me that September weekend but somehow it failed to take my hopes with it.
Just a whisper. I hear it in my ghost.
Reverie.
Today, again, he is close by. However, today is the first time in a long time, that I have chosen not to reach out. I do so, not to punish him but myself; should he not notice. Perhaps this will finally prove to me that when he looks at me, he sees in me only golem; an absence of form yet to be shaped from mud. Yet do I not already know this to be untrue? Simply because he helped fix my fragmented form. He stopped my heart's demise and then reconstructed my being using the clays of hope on the river banks of my tears. Happily, I morphed. I became the child of a dream. I laugh as I look up to the heavens, not in wonderment but with a certainty that ‘life perpetuates itself through diversity and this includes the ability to sacrifice itself when necessary’. Yet when I look within, inside my Section 9, I have no idea of how to cope with a such a loss. Major.
Just a whisper. I hear it in my ghost.
Aemaeth.
Perhaps I am the unknown puppet master that has been pulling my own strings; forcing myself to remember… how he pulled me close… his kiss… the times he made love to me. What of my feelings for the future?... were they just mere trick modes? This thought alone cuts me; causing a solitary sob to escape from me mid-flight. I begin to plummet into a cloud of despair. I am bleeding more now but still I choose to go... to forget. I fear that when next I hear him call my name my heart will soar again with childish joy and instinctively, I will turn and run back... I always have. Sometimes I wish my heart would turn to stone instead of being set alight by the blaze of his warmth. I look to the mirror; searching for my truth. My ghost whispers scornfully ‘when one’s face is distorted why you should blame the mirror? The mirror doesn’t help to enlighten but rather to confuse’. So I stop staring at myself and I rub my forehead; robbing it of truth.
Just a whisper. I hear it in my ghost.
Maeth.
Looking back, I realise that the universe conspired to keep us apart. What could be… cannot. The dream must die, for I choose to live. I finally understand. I hug my ghost as it whispers reassuringly ‘life and death come and go like marionettes dancing on a table. Once their strings are cut, they easily crumble’.
Good Shepherd, I know not of tomorrow so just for tonight all I dare ask is ‘let one walk alone, committing no sin, with few wishes, like elephants in the forest’. Please.
