Dearest Diary, Dated : Eternity.
The sheer idiocy and callousness of the crew of this ship is beyond imagination. Crazed old nuts all of them are, yes that's it. I have been residing on this ship for Almighty knows how long and they still have not comprehended my presence in their lowly midst. They pass through me on a daily basis and yet the only thing they feel is a frigidity in the air. I have been around many mortals, to my obvious dismay, but I have never come across an assortment of fools such as the one on this ship.
Had it not been for my difficulty in staying on land, I would have gladly forsaken this vessel. But, cursed that I am, I shall never be able to cherish the earthiness of the shores. Seeing as I was forced to make peace with this unfortunate situation, I decided on setting sail with this proudly named vessel, albeit with the shabby crew, including the dame who is attempting to pass for a man. In all honesty, it was the name that drew me towards the vessel. I had been tired of sailing in the fetid ferry that carried abusive passengers to and from the harbour. The man who called himself the Captain was unbearably common in his mannerisms and had I not been dead all those centuries ago, I would have personally made sure that his existence was wiped from the face of the earth. Nevertheless, the name Pink Daffodil sounded so refreshingly unique to my ears that I began to imagine a passenger ship with nice china and heavy cutlery, where well-bred ladies in all their finery and gentlemen with impeccable manners dined, with violins playing soothingly in the background. The images were too enchanting for me to let go, since they reminded me so much of my life as a mortal. So, I committed myself to sail with the vessel.
It was only when we had set sail that I realized my error in judgement, but then it was too late to rectify it. I was stuck in the midst of ill-mannered, rude, callous and filthy mules who called themselves pirates, especially the swine who captains the vessel, some fellow known to the crew as Bottoms. Even his name reeks.
Enough rambling and feeling sorry for myself, but I can not seem to help myself. It hurts to be the only Ghostess who is not armed with the ability to raise hackles or scare the pants off the mortals. Anyways, that is another story for another time.
I think I'll float over to the deck and give the chills to the scum loitering around there.
Forever unfettered yet confined,