I am a ghost. I am dead. I died years ago.
I walk. I move. I eat. I shit. I haven’t lived in years.
That fateful day or was it weeks or months back when I was on top of the world I fell off of it.
Lost love. Lost family. Lost friends. Lost my mind. My mind.
Everything I accomplished and worked hard to become was lost that day, that month, that year.
I can’t remember how fast or slow it happened. I slowly realized that everything I loved and created and accomplished was nothing but a distant memory. Memory.
I have been a ghost of Rich Hillen Jr ever since. I am reminded constantly of what I had and who I was and it’s sad.
It’s sad but I don’t feel it most of the time. Ghosts don’t feel. Maybe they do but this ghost doesn’t feel most of the time.
No regrets. No sentimental memories. No anger. No happiness.
Just a ghost of what I once was.
I can accept this sometimes.
Sometimes it’s unacceptable.
I try and live off of my past. My personality. My accomplishments. My loves. I am acting.
Who you see is not who I am. What I am.
I’ve lost my mind and no one knows. Not even me sometimes. I forget that I am a ghost.
I watch my new world collapse around me and I complain and I plan and I try to find a solution. Doesn’t work.
Neither do I. Work.
I look back at who and what I was when I was living and it does bring me comfort to know that I was somebody.
If this is true. If I am dead. I know that I will be remembered. I am remembered. Isn’t that the goal? Isn’t that what we all want? To be remembered?
Acceptance is the answer to all of my problems. I knew that then and I know that now. I can accept it today.
I am a ghost and I am remembered.