My nose is bleeding into a little napkin; I looked to see the blood and it was bright bright red.
If I was a ghost I do not think I could haunt the same place for very long. What a horrible waste of ghostliness. If you are a ghost and you are reading this right now, please for each of our sakes go to all of the places I cannot because I am a girl and not a ghost.
Or maybe just disregard this. Maybe I have no idea what I’m talking about; maybe you are all trapped and really bummed about it or maybe I’m the last to know that all of the places I want to go are where ghosts hang out all the time, that every forest and lake and mountain is spilling over with ghosts doin’ their ghost thing and having a ghosty-ass time.TAGS : text. ghosts.
The wind is howlin’ like a ghost. It sings for endings and beginnings (which are really just the same!) and it sings for times that exist outside outside of time, outside of feelings that have names or distinctions from other feelings! Hello hello hello!TAGS : text. ghosts. wind. hello.