do you suppose there are not ghosts of our manufacture? well i figgered out the mystery of the memory card, so i reckon i was the ghost there, i manufactured my own self. still kids there are without a doubt ghosts in the machine-sa. it was ghostly seeing mister in the soft-focus tunnel with the little box turtle helmet. it was like a ghost, as all old images are i spose, and images get old fast in the fastly decaying world. his little bone helmet. oh, mister. so many ghostly objects have i placed upon your dome since when. 
then i was blinking behind my glasses in the melting light on the bike ride and a blind bastard in a car nearly wiped me out. do you suppose i won't get made my own ghost of my imagining?