The Ghost of my Ambition
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It's been many years since my ambition died. It was a long, slow, lingering death. It's too painful to recount the details here. Suffice it to say that at long last my tortured ambition expired and moved on to its eternal rest. Or so I thought.
The other day, I heard a faint but familiar voice. It was saying the most evil things. "Get a real job", it hissed demonically. "You're going nowhere in life. Stop smoking that grand-daddy purple and make something of yourself."
Then, as quickly as it arrived, the vile spectre departed. However, I now know that is not dead which can eternal lie. There is no telling when the ghost of my ambition will return to offer its depraved advice.
Original author unknown
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