It's not as dreamy as it sounds, you know. Being the immortal pirate ghost that I am. Oh sure, I get to scare people and constantly make the filthy denizens of below the skies live in a state of perpetual fear of the undead, but there is a limit to how much fun the fear of others can be. After the years go by, you start to realize just how much you loathe it, and after a little longer you began to yearn for a taste of mortality.
The scares become cheapened. The cries go from an invigorating orchestra of pure adrenaline to a dull and barely noticeable white noise incessantly playing in the background like a broken record 24/7. Never stopping, never breaking, always playing, never slowing. Time itself begins to betray your senses. The days become longer. Much longer. Soon, every second feels like a year. Every year feels like an eternity. But, that feeling could not possibly compare to a century. I shiver just thinking about that unholy measurement of time. But, even that isn't enough. No, time goes on forever, and so do I with it.
I have seen the lives of others swim passed and end in what is relatively an instant. I once scorned and laughed at what I considered their bad luck, but now I envy them. They get to taste the warm embrace of sleep. They get to feel the pangs of hunger and the godly satisfaction of relieving it. I once felt these things, but they are but a faint glimmer of the past; a shadow of a shadow, a memory of a memory. But, never have I felt the most desirable and pleasurable mortal fortune of them all: death. An end to time. After climbing the steps of life and seizing the day, the mortals get to reach the top and feel the salvation of a finish. But, never I. I am doomed to continue climbing an endless ladder that drains me of energy but never reaches the ultimate and savory end.
And so I and my ghostly ship sail past the starts and finishes and the joys of life. We stretch infinitely towards the end of time and all things, but we never get to enjoy the journey, and the destination is too far away to look forward to. We are forever haunted by the thing that we can never escape. We are ghosts, and we forever fly above the din of happiness and the comfort of the world, always seeing but never feeling. So it's been decided, and so it will always be.