Eternity is a really long time. I’ve felt how encompassing and tormenting it can be. I walk among the living without being alive—it’s a separation I can’t explain. I return to my final resting place every morning in the same clothes that I died in, and start again. After I passed I was hopeful about moving on, regardless of what that meant. Time became my obsession after a while, I haunted the ticks of clocks, like a self-appointed duty.
Having all the time in the world made me nervous unlike when I was alive, when all I wanted was free time. “Am I in purgatory?” I had so many questions in the beginning, and many have gone unanswered—I’m not alone here there are others. We all wait for our answers; meanwhile most of us haunt our loved ones or pack ourselves away in darkness. It’s been sixty years and I’m still waiting. How do I get out? Move on?