A Happy Ghost Quotes

“People go, places change, and time continues. All they had were their moments. And some of those moments turned into memories. And some of those memories hurt. And depending on whatever the pain was, that was what differentiated one person from another.”
― Karl Kristian Flores, A Happy Ghost

“But he played music so loudly he could not hear his pain. He stunted his growth beneath a bass that decorated his aura and lyrics that hardened the glass parts of him. He was indeed an autumn leaf dipped in concrete. He wanted sound, any sound but his own thoughts. Ears that needed songs louder than the mind were ears afraid of what they might hear inside.”
― Karl Kristian Flores, A Happy Ghost

“Hello. I am dead, very dead. Yes, we write after we die. It seems the need to create had nothing to do with a desperation to understand oneself during our aliveness, but rather the discharge of natural, tiny volumes of our soul.

Here comes six bubbles: there was a boy named andrei.”
― Karl Kristian Flores, A Happy Ghost

“This book is dedicated to friends we walk past & never meet.”
― Karl Kristian Flores, A Happy Ghost

“Only a king knew what a crown did to a walk. No matter how diligently explained or even repetitiously tried on by others, the crown weighs not what its gold measures, but its bearer’s battles, near-deaths, and navigations of terrain. Terrain cheered by none. Terrain open to all.”
― Karl Kristian Flores, A Happy Ghost

“Oh, what the ocean did to a man. How unmatched it was. One could competitively build a giant castle made of sand or even hire architects to construct a true castle by the shore made of rocks and furnish its enormous insides with crystals. Yet plop him closer to the sea and within seconds, he will yield and feel as dumb as any other measly man lost at land.”
― Karl Kristian Flores, A Happy Ghost

“Hey, I get you, man,” assured Officer Villalobos. “And what you feel is totally valid—”

“—for Christ’s sake, can you stop saying what you think you should say?” said Gonzales.”
― Karl Kristian Flores, A Happy Ghost

“And she said goodbye to him and closed the door, not to pressure the inhabitant to evacuate, but because doors would not be doors if they stayed open, would they?

Andrei walked down the corridor, lifted his hand and clutched the air in front of his chest, as if grabbing a part of his spirit, and privately threw it in her direction, saying, “Here’s some of my soul forever, somehow, yes, for you.”
― Karl Kristian Flores, A Happy Ghost

“At one point, all of us must be lost in a desert. It’s an excellent sanction. If we never have that trial, I struggle to see how else we can find ourselves.”
― Karl Kristian Flores, A Happy Ghost

“A part of him did not want to disrupt her—she was so with herself that stopping her rhythm would be like interrupting a play or telling a healthy sea animal to stop swimming. But greater than the need to admire was his need to follow that admiration—which meant talking to the stranger.”
― Karl Kristian Flores, A Happy Ghost

“He really liked her—especially the way her femininity stimulated him. Alejandra was the type of girl that never let a boy entirely have her. If his lips tried to go for a random peck, she would turn the opposite way and smile a “no.” They would be seated at a restaurant and her peppy, shy voice would say, “Thank you for taking me here, but don’t expect anything.” He felt like he had her slippery heart in his hands, but never held it—instead her heart levitated, floating a few centimeters above his twitching fingertips, shining like a fickle disco ball, magnetized in the air by Alejandra’s masterfully crafted tension. She perfected this practice and learned it from her older sister. Except Alejandra felt that she was not as intelligent or gorgeous as other women, and that this prowess was all she had.”
― Karl Kristian Flores, A Happy Ghost

“And so now. Listen to yourself. Tune in. What do you want?’
“What do I want?” he repeated.

He thought. And instantly, he knew. Andrei’s heart pounded while the suite was still. In fact, it was the type of stillness that men and women knew all too well. That familiar, embarrassing calm, which in seconds usually soared an unquestionable fact. Minds in that room could only come to the single conclusion Andrei feared to admit.

“I want to...” And Andrei, taking Mars’ hands in his, bent over and kissed her with an angle of awe and the timing of gratitude.
“Right,” she said, knowingly.
“Did you know I was going to do that? Was that weird?”
“Why explain feelings, Andrei?” she professed sincerely. “We’ll end up dissatisfied. If you feel the truth, so do I. That’s how rooms work. You have to keep doing that. Listening carefully, then acting fiercely. It’s a contrasting relationship.”
― Karl Kristian Flores, A Happy Ghost

“But imagine,” said Mars, “being a comet. I want you to imagine a divine force in someone that pushes them through the world, infinitely, in each choice, melting barriers in its own perfect path, out your mouth, out from your hands, across countries, through rooms—”
“—through terror—”
“—past regulations—”
“—past people—”
“—every time—”
“—every day...”
“Their life would go so much further,” continued Mars, “so much—as if absorbing hundreds and hundreds of years of ordinary life experience while still their real age. If death is no secret, why do we hunch? That doesn’t make sense to me. I don’t get the hunching! We retreat even when we always know the most favorable thing to do. If you took every risk, you’d have everything. You’d have all that was all.”
― Karl Kristian Flores, A Happy Ghost

“Few things burned men as much as the cold side of a woman that was once warm.”
― Karl Kristian Flores, A Happy Ghost

“Her true skin color was a light beige, like the skin of pencil shavings, and was soft as it was when her mother lotioned her before bed every night. Stephanie did not have the memory of those nights, but they were the reason she subconsciously pumped two servings of shea butter before she sleeps. Mothers lived in a child forever, the way their own mothers lived in them. With one mother’s kiss, a child received a recipe made by a thousand seasoned souls—a generation of love transferred in everything a woman did.”
― Karl Kristian Flores, A Happy Ghost

“I can't say anything though. Even if it’s true I’d sound like a prick. Believe that. How can we even— Christ! That’s the problem with people living however they want. When anything goes, reason is no longer credible. You can’t point out trouble. If the truth is offered, and they don’t want it, they get to say the truth is a lie. Autonomy is now prioritized over understanding.”
― Karl Kristian Flores, A Happy Ghost

“Freedom sounds phenomenal to the preoccupied young. But when one is an adult and has “free days” there is simply not much to do. Even in Los Angeles, where everything was. There was an unspoken spell of solitude cast on the city. Once one has been to the main parts of town, and had their fair share at the beach, Los Angeles turned unbreathably lonely. The biggest risks took place in grocery stores where a quiet shopper chose to switch to multi-grain bread after two years on sourdough. One could use their afternoons to create art— maybe writing a poem or painting a picture—all of which pass time but are isolating activities in and of themselves. The child begs for freedom and the adult wants to be told what to do.”
― Karl Kristian Flores, A Happy Ghost

“A man, perhaps an inch shorter than Andrei, sensing the height comparison, slowly passed him. The stranger still wore an N-95 mask. The pandemic ended three years ago, but Andrei identified why masks were still worn by others. While millions had died from COVID-19, others silently and ashamedly rejoiced in the virus’ demands. The requirement of face masks made it mandatory for everyone to cover more than half of their face. And for those who disliked their face, they, for nearly two years, had the chance to go out in the world and not be ugly for once. Suddenly, while they were not beautiful, they were not hideous. Neutrality can do so much for someone. This period was like a gift for those with horrid teeth, large features, cystic acne, injuries, scarring, and discoloration. Never before were so many people looked straight in the eyes. Masks were some people’s only chance to show who they were. And now, when the pandemic had ended, they were back in the shadows. Large groups of people, however, as Andrei had seen, still wore them, beneath the excuse that the virus could still return. "I would love to kiss one of you on the cheek, he thought.”
― Karl Kristian Flores, A Happy Ghost

“He hated walking. It was the most excruciating activity in his day; that was, because of the screaming. You see, passing strangers on a walk is terribly painful for people like Andrei, whose every muscle fights to pretend their mind is not yelling questions like: “DO YOU GO LEFT?! OR DO I? Do I know you? Are you looking at me? Do I look familiar to you? Look down! Peruse the floor, scan left now right. Where are your headphones? It would have been so much easier to look busy if you had just remembered to bring your headphones! They’re coming closer. Don’t look at them. Rub your eyes. Sniffle. Good. Good...We made it. OH GOD ANOTHER ONE.”
― Karl Kristian Flores, A Happy Ghost

“hello. i am dead, very dead. yes, we write after we die. it seems the need to create had nothing to do with a desperation to understand oneself during our aliveness, but rather the discharge of natural, tiny volumes of our soul.”
― Karl Kristian Flores, A Happy Ghost

“He had tried so hard that day. Andrei looked toward the smoke, searching for a face, and found none.

He knew there was no reward for his life. It would continue to be excruciating for him to venture into the world with stakes and yet receive no friendly consolation. No audience. There were only things and him. The state of aloneness was the condition comets came with. Oh, what a hand could do! A friend! A touch on the shoulder! But this loud torment of silence would serve as the rhythm of a much larger song that played in him—the tune of ceaseless risk. The song commences at the first streak of undertaking. And the lyrics of progress are never congratulated. How could others toast to a victory they did not understand? That they could not see?”
― Karl Kristian Flores, A Happy Ghost

“Andrei perched on the rooftop of the cinema and looked out at Westwood’s nightlife bustling before him. He was mounted on the single, cream, stoned gargoyle built above in the corner of the theatre. He and his gothic animal breathed under the cold moon. Yes. He always felt like the moon—generally unnoticed by the world, that never minds—and navigated richly through his life alone and uninterrupted, like a ghost. Truth is an unobvious color. Those who attempt truth will never make billboards or conversations but usually sift in the background in awkward veritas.”
― Karl Kristian Flores, A Happy Ghost

“There once was a boy named Andrei who shivered on a roof, and sometime there later, there would shiver others—many others— never meeting and never needing to.”
― Karl Kristian Flores, A Happy Ghost

“Life often functions in dull repetition, but humanity does not operate in patterns. Experiences are random to the point of them never happening again. People are different and they shift throughout space over time. Nothing may repeat. There is no one in a million. There is one in one. It was why no summer was the same. It was why some lips in history never got to test if they were good kissers. It was why Ali lost to Frazier but Frazier lost to Foreman. It is why film does not get another Marlon Brando and no music, however similar, can be compared to Debussy. To resurrect these greats is like trying to re-enter a lost dream. The shore motions toward the feet and never meets them exactly again.”
― Karl Kristian Flores, A Happy Ghost

“Andrei’s bruised mouth loosened and inhaled the saltwater scent of his water planet. And as easy as it was to breathe, tears rolled down his tender cheeks. This was no less than the transaction between nature and man. Beauty is known to pull out fluids from humans that surrender to it.”
― Karl Kristian Flores, A Happy Ghost

“The children who played the Scorpion game in daycare knew the point. Before the beach, Andrei walked past a group of little boys and girls through the front window. He spectated their game. The kids were placed within a circle marked on the ground as a boundary. One blindfolded child played the Scorpion. And then the Scorpion violently tagged each student they found, eliminating the group one by one. The game would eventually end. The Scorpion would eat everyone. Andrei watched the children choose their mortal dance and run carefully in all directions. Then the circle of watchers applauded the child who won— that was, the timid, clever boy who had laid down patiently on the floor, away from the Scorpion, as still as a manhole cover. The unseen kid held his breath in the name of survival for the duration of the game. Though there was one player who moved unlike the rest. Bless that spirit who dared to dance teasingly in front of the Scorpion, inspect the circle to learn its space, had fleeting looks of love with other bugs, and was the only one to know what it felt like to belt their endangered voice in a loud, delightful cry toward the heavens.

The dancing crier was killed. But the shy, certain statue of a boy died twice.”
― Karl Kristian Flores, A Happy Ghost

“Life was never about survival. For a long time, it was proposed that all living organisms shared a single purpose: to survive—but this was not the appropriate case for humans. Survival was all along but a secondary basis to man, while attendance to life was the first. One must secure something to survive for, as the cells of the straightforward body will, regardless of permission, do their job. Men do not breathe without air first around to inhale. A sailor cannot know his passion for sailing without an existing body of water. Similarly, a man can only survive if there is something larger in him that lives—not a beating heart, but a moving one. If he only “holds on,” prolonging preservation and supervising health, there is nothing in that lingering lifeform to endanger or threaten. And since no system of security can defend from death’s next play, there is no use in mortals wearing armor. The essence of chance had loitered since the beginning of time, anticipating a being who adhered to its expressions. The human priority is one’s comet.”
― Karl Kristian Flores, A Happy Ghost

“And suddenly the motorcyclist felt ignited, that was, in the most subtle spark of need: to live in that alternate, finer side of life that was within reach and waited to be taken. It occurred to him what he wanted. And as that butterfly of chance flew past the biker’s soul, he eyed it and caught the white-winged sign instantly. There, he said to himself, I’ll go. And he attended to that meteoric obligation—that dear, vivacious reality unveiled by leaping humans. The biker wanted to see what a certain future looked like, and excitedly leaned back on his Triumph, released the clutch, and pushing off on the rubber footrests, leaned high up in the air to his right and threw himself off the bike.”
― Karl Kristian Flores, A Happy Ghost

“He had jumped off his motorcycle not to die, but to command. To see if the future still listened to his cue.”
― Karl Kristian Flores, A Happy Ghost

“Each room I enter, every road I walk on, it asks for me, and waits to see whether or not I agreed to it. Did I try? Did I grab the moment? I love these jumps and where they lead.”
― Karl Kristian Flores, A Happy Ghost