The weight of grief is a kind of psychosis in the mortal world. It produces symptoms that are overwhelming, consuming, and destructive. The only antidote for these is time. Grief is a weight we carry whose burden eases with the passage of days and hours, months and years. For the spirit population, this ease of weight never arrives. Chased in place in a circle, a temporal residence is constructed within the confines of regret and remorse never absolved, never forgiven, without hope for atonement. Bound by the earthly spaces once occupied in life, ghosts relive the grief that ties them to these places eternally. Like reins tied loosely around a hitching post, a simple knot binds a powerful creature in place until released. In grief and mourning, we recognize little beyond the damage occupying our hearts and minds, and it is difficult to see which world we occupy in such a state. Does the spirit know the fast swirling aching is unceasing, notice the absence of alleviation, of relief in some minuscule amount never occurring? In grief, our feet are so heavy. It feels like they sink into the earth. But we walk without footprints, unsure of which world we stand in.