To me, a ghost is a kind of spirit that once died and now lingers here on earth, looking for some kind of closure. A ghost isn’t a life. It is mostly invisible and really cannot make a difference, because, well it’s dead. Ghosts tend to scare the crap out of people, which annoys me because I’m afraid of their existence even though, technically, they do not exist.

Sometimes, I feel like a ghost. Not because I’m dead or anything, but because I’m living as something that just doesn’t exit. Have you ever felt like you’re just drifting by, aimlessly, invisibly searching for something, anything to breathe life back into your soul? Well, I do. And as long as I pretend to be something I don’t want to be, I will continue living as a ghost, annoying the crap out of people (mostly myself).

I remember what it felt like to live in the moment; to feel as if you’re relishing every second. Now, I don’t know if I understand the concept of fun. Sometimes, I tell myself that hey, this is fun, but I’m not really having fun. I’m not really feeling. Instead of touching a wall and feeling the hardness and texture of uneven paint distribution, my hand would go right through it. And I’d feel nothing.

I’m not LIVING. So I’m not FEELING in the way I need to be feeling.

When we are born, we are already being conditioned to think in a particular way. This is wrong. This is right. This is black. This is white. Our values are taught to us, instilled within us, and as we grow up, they make us who we are. You may be thinking, “Hey what’s wrong with growing up with values and morals?” The thing is, nothing is wrong with it. It stops a lot of us killing people who chew really badly. On the other hand, values are taught to us in a particular way. And a slight deviation from the way a value “ought to be practised” is like committing a mortal sin. At least it feels that way to me – the ghost.

I was conditioned to believe that studying really hard, graduating, and getting a status-giving job (that of course paid well) was the ultimate life purpose. Be a doctor. Be an engineer. Be an accountant. Be a lawyer. Nobody told me to follow my dreams, because some dreams defy rationality, and rational dreams are the way to go.


But what about doing what you love? What about doing something that gives you energy to wake up every morning? Does that not count in this opinion-driven, sanctimony-producing world?

When Martin-Luther King Junior made the “I have a dream” speech, he moved people. You know why? Because everybody has a dream they’re too afraid to follow. They’re afraid because society figuratively takes a piss on anything that deviates from the norm. The norm of complacency. Hell, judges stick to the ratios of previous cases adjudicated upon like robots.

Sure, I see why they have to do it (I’m not a complete idiot…). But what if the previous judgments were wrong? What if all judgments ever decided upon were wrong? Excuse the melodrama, but the point I’m feebly trying to prove is this: our entire conception of right and wrong is based on what someone else taught us. Based on what someone else taught him/her, based on what someone else taught him/her. Kind of sounds like that game called Broken Telephone if you ask me.

I have a dream too. It’s simple and selfish.

I have a dream that more people will follow their OWN dreams and not what they’re made to believe are their dreams. I have a dream that the dreams people choose to follow are not socially-constructed ideals. I have a dream that one day I will become brave enough to live my dreams without guilt or regret. I have a dream that I will not live my life as a ghost.

I do not want to flit around being invisible. I want people to see me as me; the living me. The girl that loves to write. The girl that doesn’t want to practise law her whole life. The girl that wants to wake up every morning just to type away on her laptop. I want to be ALIVE, in the way I know how to be alive.

I still float around as a ghost, and will continue doing so until I break away from the mould of me I’ve managed to construct. The ghost of me is searching for that bright light, you know, the one that leads you to the other side. My other side, in this non-dead existence, is liberation from just being what I’m told to be. My other side is the courage to be more than the ghost of me.


Tell us: What is your dream? Would you say you are living or are you also a ghost?