fly on the wall

The story is that my grandfather supposedly died with an oil painting i had painted in his arms. While I doubt that to be true, i loved him so dearly and had such a hard time contending with the fact that i would never see him again. i was assured by everyone that he would be watching me. For a long time i felt solace in the fact that we still had an "in-road", he was taking care of me from above. But after a while i started getting freaked out that he was watching me when i was doing bad things, which i usually was. Then I started getting angry when anyone died. I was pissed because I knew that there was one more person who would be able to watch me, when I didn't want to be watched. I spent half of my time as it was trying to 'not get caught' doing...whatever. It felt unfair. Once you die you get this super-hero power of "judgement" where you get to just look down and watch everyone and ultimately judge everyone. I call bullshit. I hate the idea of angels and the afterlife (well that's a whole other story). I just don't want anyone looking at me anymore ( as in my mind they have been for decades).