Red rum

Last night I had a dream that I was in a hotel room that was haunted. I was in no way scared, and when Tim had to leave to go on an errand, I stayed in the room by myself and watched the walls move. The drywall was getting sucked into the frame, and the room would suddenly expand. I still wasn’t scared, and I took out my camera to see if I could get photos of the ghost. A smoky figure of a man started appearing and then disappearing, and I was able to get photos of it. It was only when the lights went out and it got noisy that I did indeed become afraid, and I left. Tim came back, and I shared my photos with him, pleased with the shots.
I have come to realize in recent years that I don’t believe in anything except science. I guess that belief was just as strong in my dream. I am an atheist, but I also don’t believe in magic, luck, the devil… I don’t know what else there is to not believe in. I just looked inside myself one day and realized that that was how I felt. I used to think atheism meant some sort of negative feelings towards God or gods, but it does not. It just is what it is.
However, I have yet to reconcile my feelings about ghosts. I’ve spent too many years thinking that they were real, and if I sat down and really thought about it, I would have to admit to myself that I don’t believe they’re real anymore. I have also had a handful of negative peripheral associations with ghosts. My friend had this whole “The Entity” thing going on, where ghosts were living in her house and following her places. She also did speed. She was progressively doing more and more speed, and seeing ghosts more and more often. I wanted so badly to point out to her that even a medium wouldn’t take her seriously if she was doing methamphetamines, but our mutual friends kept reminding me of the pointlessness of it.
There was also a ghost in the building we were staying at at the river in the summer of ’01, and I thought that god damned ghost should have had better things to do that hang out around me and my friends. There were plenty of vulnerable drunk men whose heads it could mess with. My friend, though, had to get up in the night and made me get up with her so that she wouldn’t have to walk around by herself in a building that was haunted. I thought that was a pretty good argument for her not to have been told about the ghost in the first place. How many times do I have to point out that a spirit floating around in between worlds does not have a body to hurt you with, so there’s nothing to be afraid of??? And this is why I don’t like people to talk about ghosts. Because eventually I will have to get out of bed and accompany somebody to the f**king bathroom!
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