Under the full moon, sitting in a park that used to be my grave.
And so, I thought.
Thinking of the reason why I am here.
Wishing I know the reason.
Hoping I could just sit here forever.
Wishing yet …
The next thing I know, I am on the verge of dying.
Yet dying is not anymore my destiny.
Because I died a hundred years ago.
And I keep on dying
But never perish
I just keep on living.
Reborn. Reborn. Reborn.
When will I stop living in a smoke-like body?
When will I die forever?
I have been in different times.
Decades of being alone.
Years of sadness.
I am a ghost.
No one can see.
I am a shadow.
With no body to stand with.
I am just like a wind.
Sometimes I can make it cold.
Sometimes I just want to touch someone’s face.
sometimes I just want to make it a storm.
I want someone to know my presence.
But for a hundred years,
I become a wandering ghost.
Yet no one is scared of me.
because no one knows my name.
I have no story to tell.
I have nothing to ask for help.
I wanted to cry.
But no tears to fall.
Even if I wanted to regret everything,
I just couldn’t because I can’t remember anything.
I will wait until the time I will be reborn.
Maybe I will be in another place.
On another planet.
In a different universe.
Will I survive a different gravity?
Will I be forever a wandering ghost?
Until someone said,
For the first time in hundred years,
I got my heartless ghost body scared.
Someone just talks to me.
No! No! No! It can’t be possible.
Maybe I am hallucinating.
Hahahaha! I laugh out loud.
A ghost? Hallucinating? Me?
Yet a voice said,
‘What are you doing?’
And he stared at me, blinking his eyes.
Impossible. I am a ghost.
Nobody can see me.
‘Yo! white lady, I am talking to you.’
He said again.
‘I drink too much. I am seeing a white lady.’
He continues to utter words I cannot understand.
I think he is just drunk.
I just stared at him while he walks as he would fall to the ground.
He walks so weirdly.
And he sings in a voice no one wants to hear.
“Hey! I am drunk! I am walking! Yoohoo!
I saw a white lady! Yoohoo!
Oh! I think she’s a ghost!”
And he keeps on singing like a mad man.
I guess because it is the full moon.
The last time I know, my name is Roho.
But I never know my real name.
I travel the world.
In a different era.
In a different land.
I’ve learned their language.
Then the world change.
I am back to where I first open my eyes.
Without knowing what happens.
I cannot touch anyone
No one can see me.
I am a wandering ghost.