Thomas Pyjamas / Blog

The Twelve O' Clock Ghost

The science was in place, so all I had to do was go through the motions to get what I wanted. I was putting on a variety of outdated tricks, and the thrills, rather than happening in the moment, now seemed to be the same every night. It was like slamming my head into a wall over and over. The attention I got from being a ghost still propelled me forward, but attention was sometimes difficult to keep among people when you weren’t really supposed to be there in the first place. But this was not a tryout; I wanted attention, and felt a vast compulsion to shock people. Cities of millions with thousands of appearances left me with no conditions for testing new ideas. I experimented with variations, presenting minor extras and alterations all over the place, but they were mostly absorbed by the hollow, spacious edicts of Einstein’s distinguished theory. Though the numbers of believers continued to increase, I felt a related despair produced by fatigue, quarantine, and artistic dissatisfaction. As I was too shocking to go out in the open without creating massive public upheaval, my dreamy rests died away. I no longer had natural contact with the more peaceful and sophisticated afterlife. The midnight hour I spent scaring people was still fantastic, but after the appearance, I took a lonely trip back to the site of my accident, where I was rapidly guided by relativity through the cosmos. A resolution went through a gate and then I suddenly found myself at the uncompromising core of inner space, where there was nothing to do but contemplate but the deepest darkness. I am certain there were answers.


to blame this crap on the kids to try to save a few dollars is COWARDLY and STUPID. grow up, man.