Frankenstina
Hmm… Wherever to begin?…
“At the beginning,” the King had said… or was it the Rabbit?
I can’t seem to recall now.
But I guess it’s really not that important. Little is anymore, you know?
The wide mouth, the silent terrified scream, like choking on fear–sometimes these things are important, to me, at least.
Like once when I was walking through this graveyard–they’re so peaceful at night–and I saw this little boy passing through as well.
He noticed me and I knew he was so afraid of everything.
So I said, “I’ll walk with you, if you want, just ’til you get through.”
He seemed relieved then. He said, “I’m glad you’re here. Graveyards give me the creeps.”
I turned to see him smiling faintly, hesitantly, and I smiled back.
“I know what you mean,” I told him, “They used to scare me too… when I was alive.”–I guess that is the best way to describe myself, if you can understand.
Like my name—Ghost–it seems to fit.
All parents have ideals for their offspring, goals, distant dreams.
I am sure my mother—
I can still
ALMOST
see her—
had hers.
But I never really concerned myself… or did I? It doesn’t matter.
Life makes its own decisions, and you come to appreciate them in time.
Beauty can be so relative, you know?
Like Popeye–”I am what I am, and that’s all that I am.”
And it was true, too–he was just that–no more than the sum of his parts, those The Artist had created.
