the Ghost

2:23 pm

Sometimes I am lost for meaning.  It is easy to go to writing.  Then I can explore the inner and not worry about the outer.  i like to be a ghost floating high above my body.  My body that gets tired and stressed.  My body that yearns to be elsewhere where it is not.  My body that demands to be complimented and appreciated.  The ghost does not need any of that.  The ghost does not want sugar or a treat.  The ghost wants to fly and float in the ether.  Starring at the life bellow, exploring its complexity and its simplicity.  To marvel and to write poetry.

If love is the answer than what is truth.

I saw the movie “and Justice for all” a long time ago.  It had an impact.  It is about injustice, of course.  Injustice of the system, injustice of those who work within it.  Injustice of what is done to those who demand justice.

I started reading a book recommended to me, about writing.  The author said that the good writers are usually murdered by the critics before they even get to become anything.  They are sensitive souls.  The writers that become something are usually egotistical pushy survivors.  That did not sound just.

“Have you been half asleep and have your heard voices.  I’ve heard them calling my name…. I’ve heard them too many times to ignore them, it’s something that I am s’posed to be.” – The Muppets, pure brilliance

8:07 pm


5 responses to “the Ghost

  1. You say, “The writers that become something are usually egotistical pushy survivors.” As an editor, I question that. It may be that the egos inflated once they were published, and not before. . . Again, I know accomplished writers who’ve retained humility and gritty character. It’s up to the individual. To publish for mass market, you do have to be persistent, and usually it means having courage to ignore the insecurity that gnaws at you. At least that’s what I’ve seen from an insider’s perspective.

  2. Yes, it is so comfortable to explore the inner and escape the outer. Well said my little friend.

  3. Olia, this just made me cry. We are cut from the same cloth. How can it be that two people from two different worlds can be the exact same age and are currently battling the same exact things? you are not alone. Speak your truth… and I, for one (and many others), will listen. Be the ghost. She’s magnificent… xoxo

    ps. I sing the rainbow connection to my daughter every night before she goes to sleep. the words get me every time… esp the ones you’ve written here.

    • Thank you Harper! I’ve bee so preoccupied with the piece, I didn’t even read my comments. The things I love to read the most! I love our connection.

      Those words get me every time too. Once I listened to it over and over to try to get sick of it and I couldn’t, every time I wanted to cry and laugh and felt the same chills.

      We will write words like that!!!

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