So I was reading the annual scary stories on jez and because I don’t love myself, I started reading one’s from years past. There are a significant amount of stories about racist ghosts.

Now just the thought of encountering a racist ghosts is...

FEAR. Complete utter terror. Then as I consider it, fear gives way to something else.

ANGER.

You’re dead. Don’t you think it’s time you let it go.

And there is no way I’m going to let your crusty dead self defeat me.

Then I know your supposed to talk to it, but nah fuck you. Imma just exorcise your ass up out here with no warning, but not before I throw a huge party with hella poc all up in the space.

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You mad? Stay mad.

I would just roll up in the house and play And I am telling you and beat it. All day everyday

And what you gon do? Flicker some lights? Give me weird dreams? Bitch, I defeat you on the dream world. I seen that movie, I know what to do.

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 All this to say, fuck ghosts, but fuck racist ghosts in particular.