Sometimes feelings can be the heaviest part of a ghost, when our bodies are a wisp of fog in the air our feelings can be a ball of lead weighing us down like an anchor, but sometimes when feelings are good they act as a ballast, keeping us around and afloat for a while longer before dissipating into nothingness.
I have come to find that I feel too deeply, not in the sense that they are complex feelings, in fact, most of my internal processes are quite simple and my sense of logic could be chalked up to a screwy form of deductive reasoning. That aside, when I say that “I feel too deeply” I mean that my emotions primarily rule my state of being.
To a ghost like myself “feelings” are hard to explain with words, it always seems like it would be so much easier if someone could just spend a second inside your body. Then again I lack the conscience or money to pay for the kind of therapy someone would need after spending an hour in my mind…
Think of feelings like a spectrum of color, these colors are of no real importance as they vary from person to person, what one person feels as blue could be green to you. It is all about the essence of that color. Now picture the mind as a blank canvas, in which people and monsters alike can often fill with many varying hues and different saturation of the same color with hints of other things mixed in.
But the same is not so easy for a ghost.
Colors just seem to come one at a time, with either the highest or lowest saturation. Sometimes it is an ugly color, an annoying color, or a color that reminds you of home. The canvas of the mind is then filled with that color nothing else. Ghosts collect swatches of color in the canvas of their mind, like memories of emotion, reminders of feelings that have passed, so that when the color returns in its full intensity we are able to remember what exactly it is we are feeling because we have felt it before. And when things turn dark or sour, ghosts don’t exactly have the easiest time coping when there are no other ghosts around, and your monsters are busy, you are alone and smothered in a gross color with nobody to talk about it with.
(Sometimes I drown in blue if I am alone for too long, and today I am kind of tired of blue.)
I once took a pill that seemed to add detail to my canvas, clearing the slate of color to reveal intricate patterns and little bits and fine lining. The only downside being that this image was now in black and white. The image was neither good nor bad, looking at a piece of abstract artwork in monochrome looks nothing more than a mess on paper, unless you are the eccentric type of being that finds beauty in such things.
Regardless, that pill allowed me to see what I previously could not, and for a ghost finding meaning in things makes us one step closer to existing. The challenge I now face is to assign colors to that which is colorless and give form to something that is formless.
It is nothing short of an extraordinary feat, however being a ghost is already extraordinary enough on its own I suppose. Some ghosts will give up, either remaining to see the world in colored monochrome, or grayscale. But I want to choose another option, to paint with the colors that I remember and have collected. And should the image fade and I have to see singular colors again, I want them to be new colors, things that I can add to the archives of my mind and eventually continue to paint the masterpiece in my mind that is ultimately the person that I am meant to become.